Demon Moon

many unsuccessful love matches. I’ve also known many to be the opposite. What do you care of the approval of others?”
    “I don’t. I’m just surprised.”
    “You shouldn’t be. In my lifetime, arranged marriages have been commonplace far longer than they have been not.”
    “Yeah. But then, so were corsets and unequal gender rights.”
    “Every time you turn and journey to the faucet, I offer a prayer of gratitude for progress, liberation, and the designers who popularized hip-hugging denims.” His gaze settled on her chest. “And baby tees.”
    She didn’t glance down; if she was aroused, there was little she could do to stop it—but she could ignore it. “Here you go.” The crescents of mango glistened a deep yellow-orange on the salad plate. “Eat it with your fingers; everything tastes better that way.”
    “Savitri, I cannot—”
    “I know. I don’t mean taste taste. This mango isn’t the greatest, anyway—but it’s got a nice scent. Half of flavor is the odor. I experimented once by holding my nose through an entire meal.” She lied; it had only been through a couple of bites.
    Colin arched a brow, but she could have sworn amusement lay beneath the doubt. He picked up a slice.
    “The texture is almost perfect. So take a long sniff, and eat it.”
    He bit off the end with a decisive snap of his teeth. The hollows in his cheeks deepened, as if he was lightly sucking on it.
    She licked her lips. “Smooth and juicy, right? Now imagine that smell in your mouth, and you’re close.”
    His throat worked as he swallowed, and he set the remainder of the slice on the plate.
    “Put it away, Savi,” he said. “I’ll not be held responsible for my actions if you do not. Your shields are up, but your physical scent is…and the flesh of the mango is almost precisely like—” His eyes closed. “No, you cannot know.”
    Oh, god. She hadn’t intended to tease him. She swept the plate from the bar, stuck it in the refrigerator. “I know.” Looking back over her shoulder, she found him staring at her. “I’ve always been curious. I just prefer what I can’t see in a mirror.”
    Recovering himself with a visible shake, he said, “As do I.”
    He was serious. Savi caught her bottom lip between her teeth to stop her laughter. But he must have read it on her face when she returned to the counter; his own smile flashed.
    “Pray tell me you have two of those.” Colin nodded to the bottle of wine she’d retrieved from the fridge.
    She blinked in surprise. “Do you drink it?”
    “No. The alcohol has no effect, and the liquid no taste. But it does the most incredible damage to your psychic shields. I shall keep your glass filled.”
    He was right: either drunkenness or the fever had affected her blocks at Polidori’s; it was unfortunate she couldn’t test which one. Perhaps it had been a combination of both?
    “I’ve sworn off alcohol for a while; this is for Hugh and Lilith. Will you bite this?”
    His fingers enfolded hers and the jalapeno pepper she’d offered him, but he did not take it. “Why?”
    “It’s an experiment. There’s flavor, and then there’s heat—but both are chemical reactions, like alcohol on a body. So I’m curious to see if it’s spicy to you, even if it doesn’t taste like anything.”
    “If I comply, you must agree to allow me to drive you to Auntie’s tomorrow.”
    “Okay.”
    “And to drive you home when you’ve finished.”
    “Okay.”
    “And to kiss me.”
    “If I feel like it.”
    He grinned. “You will. You do now.” He released her hand, and she braced herself, took deliberate account of her body. Quick breathing, heavy awareness in her belly and breasts—
    “Bloody hell!” Colin coughed, choked. His eyes were wide with shock—and they were streaming tears. In the next instant, he was around the bar, leaning over the sink.
    “Not water! Bread. Or the yogurt.”
    She grabbed the tub of plain yogurt she had out, but he’d already unwrapped the foil from around the store-bought naan. He ripped off a piece of the flatbread.
    His eyes narrowed dangerously as he chewed it.
    “Sorry.” She clapped her hands in front of her mouth, but couldn’t stop her giggles. “Sorry.”
    He glanced down at the naan in his hand and froze, his features a mask of terror. “Is this garlic?”
    “And onion…ohmygod.” Her heart stilled. “I thought garlic didn’t—” She knew it didn’t. “You ass,” she said, and this time her laughter