Jaenelle hesitated. “Well, Daemon kissed me once.”

“Well, there you—”

“When I was twelve.”

Surreal bristled automatically at the thought of a grown man kissing a child, then took a moment to consider the man. There were kisses and there were kisses. And Daemon would know exactly how to kiss a young girl without crossing the line—especially when that girl had been Jaenelle. “He kissed you when you were twelve,” she said carefully.

Jaenelle shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “It was at Winsol, just before…everything happened. He had given me a silver bracelet, and I thought a kiss was a more grownup way of saying thank you.”

“Okay,” Surreal said, nodding. “So you kissed him, and then he kissed you.”

“Yes.”

“And he didn’t drool on you?”

Jaenelle’s lips twitched. “No, he didn’t drool.”

“So why can’t you kiss him now?”

“Because I’m not twelve anymore!” Jaenelle shouted.

“What’s that got to do with it?” Surreal shouted back.

“I don’t want him to laugh at me!”

“I doubt laughing would be his first response. As a matter of fact, I don’t think it would even occur to him.” Surreal paused. Hell’s fire, this is as bad as talking to an adolescent girl.

She let that thought sink in and settle. If she put age aside and only considered experience, wasn’t she talking to an adolescent girl? There had to be some key she could turn, some way to make it seem like Daemon desperately needed help. If he needed help, Jaenelle would…

“You know, sugar, Daemon is as nervous as you are.”

“Why would Daemon be nervous?” Jaenelle asked warily. “He knows how to kiss, and he’s—”

“A virgin.”

Jaenelle’s mouth fell open. “But…But he’s—”

“A virgin. Granted, he may know a bit about kissing, but there’s a whole lot he only knows in theory.”

“But…Surreal, he can’t be.”

“Trust me, he is.”

“Oh.”

“So you can see why he’d be nervous,” Surreal said, feeling a little nervous herself. If Daemon ever found out about this little chat, she could end up the main ingredient in a carnivore’s stew. “Frankly, sugar, if push comes to shove, all you have to do is lie there. But if he’s nervous about his ability to perform well…” Cocking her elbow, Surreal stiffened her hand and fingers, then let them droop.

Jaenelle studied the drooping hand long enough for Surreal to start to sweat before saying, “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Oooh.” Then she shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t happen to Daemon.”

That naive assurance of Daemon’s ability was touching. Scary, but touching. And not something she was going to introduce to reality.

“Let’s sit down,” Surreal said, heading for a couch. “Thirty minutes ought to be enough, but we might as well be comfortable.”

“Enough for what?” Jaenelle said, settling on the other end of the couch.