I persisted. “You’re not intimidated by me, and you ask questions instead of just accepting orders.”
“I see.” She peered at me for a moment longer before nodding. “I’ll do my best to be less distracting while staying out of your way and not interfering with pack business.”
I turned away, gripping the railing. “There’s one more thing.”
“Oh?”
“We’re sharing the bed.”
Silence rang out.
“Does your manhood—wolfhood, that is—demand such a thing?” she asked.
I slanted my head her way. “It’s for appearances.”
“Your pack expects their alpha king to claim his mate.” Her tone came out matter-of-fact, like she was stating a scientific observation. “But we’ve agreed this is purely strategic.”
“No one else needs to know that.” I turned fully, watching her process this. “As far as they’re concerned, we’re properly bonded. Sharing a bed reinforces that image.”
“And in reality?”
“I won’t touch you.”
The words felt like a vow and a lie at the same time. Every part of me wanted to do exactly the opposite. If I pulled her close, would I feel her heartbeat against my chest? If I tangled my fingers in her hair, would I learn what sounds she made when someone touched her that way?
My wolf howled.Territory. Claim. Mine.
“I promise,” I said, more to convince myself than her. “You have my word.”
Amusement flickered across her face. “How magnanimous of you.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I’m sure you are.” She left the balcony and crossed the room to a chest near the wardrobe, opening it to reveal nightclothes my staff had unpacked for her. She’d sent her things ahead days ago, along with a lengthy list of instructions I’d passed onto my staff without actually looking them over. “I appreciate the clarification of expectations.”
She was much too calm and accepting about this arrangement. As if she’d already worked through every angle and reached a conclusion I couldn’t see.
Her squirrel leaped off her shoulder, soaring over to land on the bed. A flying squirrel. Great. Maybe it would fly through a window opening and remain outside.
I wasn’t actually angry with him, but he was an added complication I hadn’t expected.
I needed to ignore him.
The squirrel chattered from the bed, where it had claimed one of the pillows. My pillow, in fact.
“What did he say?” I asked despite telling myself I didn’t care.
“He says you protest quite a lot for a man who would like his wife to believe every word of his own clever plan.” Victoria pulled out a nightgown, examining it with the same clinical attention she’d given everything else. “I told him to mind his own business.”
The casual way she translated the squirrel’s commentary made my insides twist, though I wasn’t sure what the feeling meant. Most people would’ve lied or deflected. She stated it plainly, as if honesty was easier than deception.
Which it probably was, for her.
“I have to leave,” I said, moving toward the door. I needed distance before I did something stupid like close the space between us and test whether her lips were as soft as they looked. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back late.”
“Will you wake me?”
“No.”
