CHAPTER 26

MYRA

Palate cleanser

RON WAS RELEASED from the hospital on Monday. I knew because Kristin told me over lunch in the cafeteria.

"Are you going to go see him?" she asked.

"Why would I? He made his position quite clear."

"Yeah, but maybe it was just the effect of the attack–"

I cut her off. "I don't want to talk about it. I've got to go to class."

I stood up and grabbed my tray, suddenly wanting to get away from her. I'd managed to push Ron's betrayal out of my mind and I had no desire to revisit it. I was moving on with my life, though I was still worried about what would happen when he returned to class. Maybe someone would swap seats with me.

"Your next class isn't for another hour," Kristin called after me .

I ignored her and dropped off my tray and kept going, out of the cafeteria and across campus, not even sure where I was headed as long as it was away from people who insisted they knew what was best for me.

Well, except for one person. Him I actually wanted to see. I couldn't get my last encounter with Julianus out of my mind. I didn't know how to contact him; he just seemed to show up wherever I was, and I wondered if I wandered into town would he find me?

The thought preyed on my mind all afternoon, until, when my last class ended, instead of going back to the dorm, I decided to pay a visit to the coffee shop where I'd first talked to him. Because it was the middle of the afternoon when I got there, it was all but empty. I grabbed a cup of coffee and found a table in the front near the window where I would be in full view, then pulled out my laptop to work on my psychology homework.

I knocked out my week's assignments for two classes and had decided to work on a story I had been playing around with when I realized I was starving. The coffee shop only sold muffins and bagels, but it was better than nothing. I stood up to go to the counter when a hand closed around my arm and a deep buttery voice slid over me.

"What are you doing out here?"

I inhaled slowly to steady my heart rate, marveling that for the first time my body hadn't warned me he was near, and looked up at him. He was back in his customary suit, his long hair pulled back away from his chiseled face, his gray eyes watching me intently.

"I was looking for you," I answered truthfully.

"Me?" He seemed to consider that for a moment, then shook his head. "I told you not to go out after dark. "

I glanced past him to the window. "It wasn't dark when I got here. Besides, I figured you'd find me. You always do."

His frown relaxed into a reluctant smile. "Grab your stuff. I'll walk you back to your dorm."

"I'm hungry. I was going to get something to eat."

He looked over at the counter and shook his head. "Not here. Come on, I'll take you to get some real food."

I slid my laptop into my bag and shouldered it, looking up at him expectantly. "Is this like a dinner date?"

His brows shot up. "I don't…date."

I resisted the urge to laugh at his reaction. "It's the least you can do after what you did to me the last time I saw you."

I turned and walked out of the shop, mentally patting myself on the back for being bold enough to say that to him.

"What I did?" he called after me, catching up as I turned down the sidewalk. He fell into step beside me, veering me toward the corner, where he stopped to wait for the light to change. He leaned over, his lips brushing against my ear. "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it as much as I did, cuore mio. "

I felt my cheeks heat up and a tightness gather between my legs. To distract myself, I asked, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see. Trust me, it's better than a stale muffin."

We crossed the street and walked for several blocks before he ducked down a narrow side street that didn't seem wide enough for two cars to pass. A number of small businesses dotted the area, most of which looked to be closed for the night. There was a sign over one door with neon letters that spelled out Tagine . Julianus reached for the door handle and guided me inside.

The interior was dark and intimate, the only lighting coming from the colored glass in the brass lanterns hanging above the tables. A small woman met us at the door and pointed to a wooden shelving unit lined with cubbyholes.

"We have to remove our shoes," Julianus explained to me while he slid his off and handed them to the woman, who placed them in a cubby and handed him a ticket. I did the same, realizing then that the room was layered with thick, colorful rugs.

"Is the private room available?" Julianus asked the woman.

She nodded and led us through the tightly-spaced dining room, the tables of which were separated by carved wooden screens, giving the diners a sense of privacy. She stopped before a heavy curtain and pulled it back to reveal a small, dimly-lit alcove. There was no furniture to speak of, just several large cushions arranged on the floor around a low brass table.

Julianus nodded his approval to the woman, who then asked if we needed menus.

"That won't be necessary," he replied. "Bring us a tray of starters and tea."

"Very good," she said and turned to leave, pulling the curtain closed behind her, and I noticed there were small bells attached to it that tinkled when the cloth moved.

Julianus indicated for me to find a seat and folded himself effortlessly onto a cushion. Once I was seated, I looked around. The walls were covered in colorful tiles and another jewel-toned lantern hung above the table, providing the only light.

"Do you come here often?" I asked Julianus, who was watching me intently.

"It is one of my favorite places in the city when I want to eat."

It seemed an odd thing to say, but I didn't comment on it. "What kind of food do they serve here?" I asked instead. Whatever it was smelled amazing; spicy and sweet at the same time.

"The owners are Moroccan, but they mix in several North African specialties. I ordered us a sampler of finger foods." He reached over to me and brushed a hair behind my ear, his hand lingering near my lips. "I'm glad this room was available."

Sitting as we were on the floor cushions seemed somehow more intimate, like we were in a bed, and my pulse stuttered wondering what he had in mind when he requested it.

The bells tinkled and the curtain parted to reveal a server who brought us an ornate brass urn and two glasses, which she set on the table before slipping quietly out of the room.

Julianus picked up the urn and poured two steaming glasses. "It's atay , a traditional Moroccan tea." He handed me a glass and I took a sip. It was sweet and strongly flavored with mint.

"Do you like it?"

I nodded. "It's very good."

He seemed satisfied with my reaction and took a sip of his own glass before setting it aside and focusing his attention on me. I suddenly didn't know what to do with myself and started fidgeting nervously. Julianus closed his hand over mine and pulled my eyes to his.

"Relax, cuore mio. I promise I won't bite you." He leaned closer, his voice oozing like warm molasses over me. "You weren't nervous the other night."

I felt myself blush, but before I could respond the curtain tinkled again and the server reappeared with a platter laden with all sorts of delicacies and two small plates. She set it all on the table and asked if we needed anything else.

"I believe we're fine," Julianus replied without taking his eyes off me .

After she was gone, he scooted closer to me and swept his hand over the tray. "What would you like to try first?"

I was slightly overwhelmed. "I don't know what any of it is. Why don't you choose for me?"

He smiled at that and after a moment of deliberation, picked up a small triangular-shaped pastry and brought it to my lips. "Close your eyes and take a bite."

I did as he suggested, nibbling at the warm crisp dough. An explosion of flavors burst against my tongue.

"Now, without opening your eyes, tell me what you taste."

I chewed, savoring the rich tang and spicy aftertaste. "Feta?"

"Very good. This is called bakoula , and yes, the main ingredients are feta cheese and pine nuts, along with various spices."

He popped the remaining half of the pastry into his own mouth and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as though he was savoring every nuance of flavor. He opened his eyes and smiled at me before picking up a walnut-sized brown fruit. "Stuffed dates," he said, placing the fruit against my lips. I opened my mouth and he pushed it inside, tracing his long fingers over my lips. I chewed the fruit, marveling at how something so simple could have such intense flavor.

He popped a date into his own mouth and licked his lips before peeling a piece off what looked like some kind of crusty vegetable. "Sweet chermoula . Roasted cauliflower.

This time after he deposited the delicacy in my mouth, he leaned forward to press his lips to mine. "Don't forget to chew," he chided, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck to pull me closer .

He continued to feed me items from the tray until we had sampled everything, his lips finding mine after every bite, the kisses becoming ever more insistent, his tongue dipping inside to tangle with mine until I was simultaneously sated and starving. When his hand lingered on my chin then proceeded down to my neck, I leaned back without thinking to give him better access.

"So responsive," he breathed, tracing a single finger between my breasts. I could feel my nipples harden, straining against the lace of my bra, aching to feel his touch. When his hand closed around my right one, I couldn't stop a moan from escaping my lips.

"It seems you're still hungry," he chuckled. "I want nothing more right now than to lay you down on these cushions and devour your sweet pussy. The perfect dessert."

My breath hitched, my pulse skittering at his bold words. Part of me wished he would do it, but I knew, despite the barrier of the curtain, we were still in a public place and the server could walk in on us at any moment.

"I could pay her to stay away," he murmured as if reading my mind, his hand finding its way to the hem of my skirt, where he traced ever-widening circles on my thigh until I felt like I would cum from anticipation. When I let my legs fall open, he hummed in approval and snaked his hand higher, brushing against my pussy. I couldn't suppress a moan of frustration.

"So impatient," he teased. He slipped two fingers inside my panties and rolled them over my lips. "Fuck, you're soaked. You know that makes me want to slide my cock inside you."

He slipped those fingers into me and teased them across my clit, causing me to whimper his name. "This won't do. I need to get you out of here before I say the hell with it and mount you right here on this floor."