He smiled at her. “Perhaps it was myself, then. I believe I could wish for no other thing than to wake with you in my arms every rising.”
Brittany was a little shocked—actually, a lot. Those words spoke of permanence, of forever after, of never being parted. They were something a woman might say or think, but a man? When men tended to go through a heck of a lot of agonizing before they even came close to thinking about commitment? But then he’d used the word “wish,” which could put the statement back into perspective. He wasn’t really saying, Let’s get hitched. He was just being fanciful.
That conclusion annoyed Brittany somewhat, enough to have her pushing off of him. “Careful, big guy, or you might get your wish.”
She didn’t get very far in the pushing. His arms around her tightened, and she quickly found it pointless to try to squirm out of that. So she gave him a look that said release me or…actually, she couldn’t think of an “or else” in his case, but she was sure he got the point. Not that it worked. He wasn’t letting her move off of him yet, and that was all there was to that.
“What has annoyed you?” he asked.
“I’m not annoyed,” she grouched.
“What has annoyed you?” he repeated, refusing to accept her evasion.
“Okay, you asked for it. I really dislike how men forever say things they don’t mean.”
“And women do not?”
“Not nearly as much, and besides—”
“Did you notjustsay something that you did not mean when you said you were not annoyed?”
“No. That was a flat-out lie. That isn’t at all the same thing. I’m talking about things that get said between a man and a woman that can affect feelings, that can build hopes and dreams, that will finally shatter a relationship when it’s realized that it’s been nothing but BS.”
“All this resentment over a wish I am inclined to grant?” There was suddenly a lot of screeching coming out of the earphone that was still attached to his ear, reminding Brittany that they weren’t alone. “I am told you require asking, that I cannot decide the matter for you as I should.”
“What are we talking about now?” she demanded.
“A difference in our cultures, one I find unacceptable. Asking can be done, but if the answer is not the right one, the question will be withdrawn and the matter seen to in the proper Sha-Ka’ani way.”
She had the distinct feeling he wasn’t talking to her just then, but to Martha. His own annoyance was sensed, rather than reflected in tone or expression, but it was still crystal-clear to her. He hadn’t liked the interruption from Martha any more than she had.
She had to wonder why he hadn’t spoken to Miss Coach earlier. If the woman could hear every word they said, and was speaking to him through that earphone, wouldn’t it have been much easier for him to have simply asked Martha for clarification of the things he’d been having trouble with last night, rather than making her guess what he needed to know?
Brittany knew to the second when his attention was fully back on her. His eyes absorbed her. His body seemed to as well, and, oh my, that bulge was back. He even shifted her and pressed her against it in that very spot that nature had intended it to go.
Swirls of desire took flight in her belly, so it was like a dash of ice water when she heard from him, “What is the meaning of bee-ess?”
She managed to get off him this time. Thrusting an elbow into his belly for leverage helped.
“I know you can hear me, Martha. So why don’t you explain that one to him,” Brittany growled as she stomped off to the kitchen to make coffee and call Arbor. The spa would have to wait a few more hours until it opened.
She had that flare of passion under control again by the time she turned back toward the living room with the coffee cups in hand. She didn’t get far. Dalden was blocking the doorway, a normal-sized bath towel around his neck that seemed more like a hand towel aroundthatneck, his tunic removed. Not enough time had passed for him to have showered, nor did he look damp, he just looked good, too good, good enough for her to want to meld with that body of his.
She’d already seen a good portion of his chest through the gap his tunic made, but it was nothing like seeing it all. The man was simply too huge. She’d never seen anything like his size before, not even in pictures. Without the height, he’d look really weird; with it, he simply looked gigantic. A fantasy giant came to mind, wielding a club as big as he was. She would have smiled at her own fancy if she wasn’t so mesmerized by all that bare, golden skin.
No stressed muscles or overly taut skin to accommodate them, just natural bulges in his relaxed pose, the difference being that everything was oversized to begin with. And those arms, bigger than anything she could have imagined when they’d been concealed by his loose sleeves. The kind of strength represented by them had to be amazing. She wondered if they were registered as lethal weapons. And yet they’d held her with tenderness through the night. Her gentle giant.
She did smile this time, but had it and her fanciful thoughts wiped clear away when Dalden remarked, “Martha says that as long as you have spoken to her directly, you may be allowed to hear her voice.”
“Wow, lucky me,” Brittany said sarcastically as she shoved a cup of instant coffee in his hand.
“You can shelve that jealousy, doll” came out of the box clearly, which nearly made Brittany drop the other cup she was holding. “I’m not what you’ve been thinking. Try this one on for size: I was there for his birth, even assisted in it. That help? Yes, I can see that it does.”
Brittany’s face was going up in mortified flames. God, she had been jealous of a name, a voice, a faceless woman, without even once thinking the lady could be a little old grandmotherly type.
To cover some of her embarrassment, she asked Martha, “How can you see?”
“There are six viewers on the combo-unit attached to Dalden’s belt, one on every edge, so no matter which way he’s facing, I’m bound to get a good shot of what’s going on around him.”
