Roshaun was acting strange. Well, stranger than usual.
Dairine was already in a cranky mood after dealing with some jerk customers while helping out at her Dad's shop before coming to Wellakh, and now this?
The worst part was that Roshaun wasn't saying anything. He kept just looking at her, twitching slightly, then turning away with a low rumble of a growl. Dairine hadn't even known Wellakhit could growl. Few human throats could have reproduced that bone-deep rumble that was probably more at home coming from a lion.
Their planned discussion on some of the intricacies of solar storms was going about as well as you would expect.
After the fifth time in less than that many minutes (she counted), Dairine stood up and slammed her hands down on the low (to Wellakhit) table they were sitting at. She probably shouldn't have taken such satisfaction in making Roshaun jump, but her nerves were frayed as it was and she was done with this shit.
"Okay, what is wrong?! If you have a problem, spit it out instead of sulking over it!"
"Kings do not sulk," Roshaun grumbled, crossing his arms and clearly getting ready to work himself into a fine example of the term.
Dairine let a flash of irritation cross their bond, then winced as he returned it twofold. This wasn't just because of their little spat, he wouldn't be this worked up so quickly. Something else was going on here.
She took a deep breath, a technique that Miril had taught her to calm her temper, then leveled a steady glare at Roshaun. "Seriously, what is wrong?"
He grimaced but uncrossed his arms. "You smell wrong."
Dairine was just bristling and getting ready to pick a really good fight because she did not smell when Roshaun continued, words a little rushed to get them out before the brewing storm spilling over their bond broke loose. "You don't… I… this is hard to put into words, because a lot of this is… instinctual, for Wellakhit. Normally, individuals smell of their…" The Speech word he used then held all sorts of connotations, family-friend-pack, so Dairine took it to mean 'those close to you' "… and normally you smell of your father, and sister, and… myself and my parents. But today you don't. You smell of… a strange human."
Unbidden, a memory flashed to the forefront of Dairine's mind, an encounter a few minutes before her 'shift' had ended, with a jerk customer who had not only demanded a discount, but then tried to wheedle her number out of her. He had put his hand on her shoulder, but Dairine's Dad had stepped in before a police report had to be filed and the guy's spine had to be removed from where the sun didn't shine.
A low growl, deep enough to vibrate the table, let Dairine know that Roshaun had caught the memory over their bond. Well, at least they knew the source of the problem now.
"So, your instincts are out of whack because a customer got handsy earlier. How do we fix it so we can get back to work?"
"The fastest and most effective way would be scenting. Otherwise, you could go and bathe, or we could separate until the scent fades."
"Look, we have a lot of work to get through, so just do the scenting thing so that we can get done."
As Roshaun arched an elegant brow and reached for her wrist, Dairine mused that she should probably get a handle on her big mouth before it got her into trouble. And maybe learn to ask better follow-up questions.
He was gentle as he lifted her wrist up to his face, using his hand to brace it as he ducked his head to stroke his jawline over the sensitive skin beneath her palm. He made one pass on one side, then turned his head to make a second pass with the other. Her wrist felt slightly cool when he finished and dropped it, but she wasn't sure whether that was from the sudden lack of his body heat or possibly something left behind from… scent glands, maybe?
Dairine was tempted to resist when Roshaun reached for her other wrist, but she wasn't known for backing down and she wasn't about to start now. Another two passes, one on each side of his jawline, and he let her go.
Any hope that he was done was quickly dashed when he cupped the nape of her neck with one long-fingered hand, ducking his head low to stroke his jaw over the base of her neck, just above where the Sunstone's torq rested. One side, then the other, then back again, and Dairine was sure she would be as red as her hair by the time he finished.
And of course it took him longer to do her neck.
When Roshaun finally pulled back, Dairine knew there was no point in trying to control her blush, but she was able to school her expression into a slightly irritated one.
In other words, her default.
"Better?" she asked dryly.
"Yes," Roshaun said, tension leeching out of him as he settled back into his seat.
"Good. Now, about the affects of solar storms on planets outside the frost line…"
And if they couldn't meet each other's eyes for the next fifteen minutes, neither was stupid enough to comment on it.