“You noticed.” She hadn’t been imagining the sketchy behavior.
“I noticed.”
“I disliked his attention, too.” The man was...slithery.
“Women find him charming.”
“Not this woman.” She didn’t know whether to be insulted or amused. She couldn’t fathom any woman being attracted to Soton. Were they crazy? “In the first place—ick! In the second, and most important place, we’re married. I keep my promises. Until this marriage is annulled, you are the man in my life.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” His smile chased away the clouds and brought out the sun. “You are the woman in my life.”
But is that temporary, or could it be more?
Chapter Nine
Falkor awakened before the rise of the daystar. He’d spent a fitful night, shifting between spates of sleep infused with disturbing but ephemeral dreams, and bouts of wakefulness fraught with free-range anxiety.
The tarot reading weighed on his mind. He didn’t understand how a random draw of preprinted cards could predict anything or provide any guidance, but Earth divinations were alien concepts. Maybe the cards did hold some power of prognostication. Karma believed they did. Her expression when she’d flipped over the third card worried him more than the card itself. She had tried to downplay it later, but her face didn’t lie.
Betrayal and heartbreak were in his future. He trusted Karma, but could fate be trusted? Or chance? Random happenstance had smacked him in the head more than once. Fate and chance were like two heads on the same creature. They were both fickle and heartless.
He didn’t worry about Soton turning his wife’s head because he trustedher, but his friend might still try. Love was a game to Soton. Until now, he’d valued the friendshipdespitethe womanizing. People were never all good or all bad; they were a mix of both and, in friendship, as in marriage, you accepted the bad because of the good.
But he’d started to question how much of a friend Soton had really been. Two single, randy young men out for a good time, one had better luck with females than the other—nothing unusual about that. However, Soton usually got the girl. Falkor knew he was just as handsome as his friend, and, when the moodsuited him, he could turn on the charm. Plus, he had a title, which Soton lacked. Shouldn’t he have had better luck?
So, why hadn’t he?
Because at the first sign of Falkor’s interest in a woman, Soton had waged a campaign of seduction, like they were in competition to get the girl.
He won’t win this time.Not with my wife.He wouldn’t allow it, and she was too smart to fall for his practiced charm. She had pegged Soton as a player.
But could Soton succeed in making Falkor less in her eyes? As the spare—which Soton frequently,jokinglypointed out, he’d always taken second place. Second to Jaryk, second to the throne, second to his parents, second to the women he’d set his sights on.
The other women hadn’t mattered; Karma mattered very much. She might be leaving at the end of the year—might?—but he cared about her. He longed for her to care about him, respect him, see him as somebody worthy of first place.
He rolled over to find her side of the bed vacant. He sat up. “Karma?”
The bath chamber door was ajar. He slid out of bed and tiptoed toward it. “Are you in here?”
Not inside. He padded into the parlor. Unoccupied. The spare bedroom and the workshop were also vacant.Where would she have gone so early?And why? He paced and then spied something on the balcony.What is that?
He moved closer. Karma’s slippers! What were her shoes doing out here? He stepped onto the balcony, and a movement in the grotto caught his attention. He peered over the railing.
Moonlight danced on his wife’s bare backside as she glided through the pond. He blinked. “Karma? What are you doing?” His gaze shifted to a puddle of nightclothes beside the pool.
She stopped swimming and turned toward him; water lapped at her shoulders. She waved. “Come on in! The water’s great!”
“It’s not morning yet!”
“I couldn’t take a moonlight swim in the daytime.”
“How did you get down there? You didn’t climb down the trellis?” He glanced at the frame clinging to the wall. “You could have fallen and gotten hurt!” He recalled sharing how he used to climb down the trellis. But he’d been a reckless adolescent.
“But I didn’t. So, why don’t you join me?” she invited again.
A surge of heat and yearning coursed through him.
* * * *
