“Monty and I have been learning all about your anatomy,” she declared. “And it is apparentlyveryimportant to keep your genitals clean. And if you happen to have a foresk—”
“I don’t … I, um—” Finn fumbled.
Beside her, Monty was hiding his laughter by pretending to preen the feathers under his wing, his body shaking enough to vibrate through the couch.
“I think that’s enough documentaries for today,” Henry declared, walking over to gather the plastic cases. “Or, possibly, all time.”
“Did I say something wrong?” Iris asked, pressing a hand to her heart, lips curving into a pout that would make her little sister proud.
The twin masks of shock on their faces were making it hard to keep her own features flat.
“Let’s just … not bring up the cleaning of one’s genitals from here on out,” Henry said, tone tight.
Iris was pretty sure she could read the regret on his face as he reached up to yank the collar of his shirt off his neck.
“Understood,” she agreed. “I was simply concerned for his well-being. I do so wish to have a healthy husband. Speaking of, how is your prostate?” she asked.
Finn looked about ready to faint right then and there—his skin pale, his brows pinched, and sweat starting to bead up on his brow and neck.
“I believe the procedure to check the health of it involves one inserting a finger—” she said, holding her pointer up then making a jabbing motion.
“All right,” Henry interrupted. His voice was too loud, and he clapped his hands hard enough to make Iris jump. “Perhaps, from this point on, your education should involve immersing yourself in the surface world, not watching documentaries. That will … better help you understand … appropriate topics of conversation.”
“I would be happy to lead her around Manhattan,” Monty, recovered from his laughing fit, declared.
“Fine,” Henry said. “Just keep her out of trouble. And out of the tabloids. I’ll wait for you at the office,” he added, nodding his chin toward Finn.
He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, leaving them alone with Finn, who looked like he was still trying to recover from her comments.
He cleared his throat awkwardly and shook his head. “It’s all right. You’ll … pick things up pretty quickly.”
Iris was reasonably certain he was even less sure than Henry, before he turned and walked away.
“What? You’re not going to offer to inspect his manhood yourself to make sure he is cleaning it properly?” Monty asked when Finn was gone.
“Do you think it worked?”
“Making them think you’re barnacle-brained? Maybe. But the important thing is, we are allowed to leave the apartment. As much as I love penthouse living, we can’t deny this wonderful city the pleasure of my presence any longer. You get some shoes. I will get some cash. And then we are going to go have some fun. Without getting into too much trouble.”
Oh, she was looking to get into trouble. As much as possible, in fact, so long as she could maintain plausible deniability.
Finn had no idea what lengths she was willing to go to so she could find a man who didn’t want to try to dull her shine and turn her into someone she didn’t even recognize anymore.
She wasn’t just running from what Finn wanted her to be.
She was still searching for someone who would see all of her—tangled hair and loud voice and sensual gait—and think she was enough just as she was.
8
Iris
“Do you smell that?” she asked a few minutes later as they walked down the street, and she could have sworn she caught the scent of salt water washing down the streets.
“Huh? Oh, it’s probably the sewers,” Monty said. He was too busy gawking at everyone he passed in the hopes of brushing shoulders with someone who ‘was someone.’
Whatever that meant.
Iris was okay with his distraction, though. It allowed her to really start to absorb the city and its people without getting distracted by Monty’s monologues.
