Jezebel

Part One: 27

The joy. The sheer gladness that consumed Jezebel's soul when she saw Ahab at her door was almost too much. She had looked upon his face like it was the very first time she saw him. The fact that he did not summon her but chose to surprise her with his presence made Jezebel almost melt on the spot. And he looked perfect. His curly dark hair appeared oiled and tamed and it fell to his shoulders like the richest silken threads. Though his eyes appeared empty, Jezebel chose to ignore the fact. At least he was here in her presence with a weak attempt of a smile on his lips.

"May I come in?"

Still unable to find her voice, Jezebel managed a jerky nod, bowed slightly then ushered him in. He made his way past the door, taking slow deliberate steps. A whiff of the heady scent of saffron caressed her nose as he brushed by. He glanced around her chambers, observing every spot as though he were seeing it for the first time. When his gaze skipped her, Jezebel struggled not to frown in disappointment. She glanced down at her attire. Perhaps she should have worn a sheerer garment. Surely that would instantly capture his attention.

Shutting the door, Jezebel walked to an ornate side stool. "Some honeyed wine?" She lifted a jug and shook its content.

Ahab merely diverted his attention to the objects on her dresser, ignoring her question. He lifted the bull figurine and swept long fingers over the object. When he finally turned, he smiled a little. "I like this." He raised the bull to the light of the lamp, observing it carefully. "Can I keep it?"

"Was there a need to ask?" Shaking her head, Jezebel dropped the jug and drew nearer. Taking a bold move, she used her fingers to close his over the figurine then looked up at him. "You can keep it."

His gaze held hers for a moment before he nodded and glanced away. Releasing his fingers, she tentatively rested her hand on his shoulder.

The words Jezebel was about to utter had to ring genuine for it to achieve a desired effect. So she summoned the saddest memory she could remember.

Her first sacrifice.
Her mother's proud gaze.
A small blade trembling in her hand.
Bailiah was six and her only friend.
The sight and smell of blood... so much blood.

Jezebel gulped as the sadness came at her in tall waves, crashing upon her heart relentlessly. "I heard what happened to Anat." Tears blurred her vision. She was certain sincerity burned in her gaze. "I am so, so sorry she died. For the brief time I met her, she was kind to me. I can't even begin to imagine your pain. Sorry."

Ahab's gaze danced around her facial features before he shut his eyes and sighed heavily. "Thank you. Your words... kind."

Jezebel's breath caught in her throat when Ahab rested a hand upon her cheek. She would have died at that moment and be ecstatic about it. When his thumb swept over her jaw, Jezebel shut her eyes and basked in the feeling.

"I have chosen to forget her."

Jezebel's eyes flew open at the same moment a fat drop of tears raced down her cheek. Ahab wiped it away.

"You have?" Her heart wouldn't dare hope.

"Why else would I be here?" He smiled again. The action appeared sad but it was beautiful nonetheless. "Please..." he shut his eyes and gulped before opening them again. "Please help me forget."

"Are you certain?" The words were like bile in her mouth but Jezebel said them anyway. She wanted—needed Ahab's complete trust.

Do not appear eager.

"Why else would I be here if I am not?" Ahab let the bull figurine drop as he swept a hand over the curve of Jezebel's hip. "Are you going to deny me?" He rested his palm over the dip of her waist and drew her closer, causing their chest to collide. "Are you?" He asked again, this time with a lifted brow and a faint smile.