Page 61 of Bred By the Sheikh

Goblin began to purr.

Chrissy pressed her cheek to the top of her head.

I remembered Chrissy in the courtyard, crouched on the stone while the cat decided whether she trusted Chrissy enough to come closer.

That animal had been dirty, hungry, and frightened.

Now she was clean enough to shed gray hairs onto Chrissy’s blouse, strong enough to attack my furniture, and comfortable enough to fall half asleep in her arms.

Chrissy cradled her with ridiculous satisfaction.

I wanted her to keep sitting there.

“We need to leave soon,” I said.

She tipped her face toward me.

“For the estate?”

“Yes, for the estate.”

Her hand slowed over Goblin’s back. “Does she have to go back downstairs?”

“No. Farah will arrange somewhere appropriate here.”

Chrissy glanced at the household manager.

Farah nodded. “Everything has already been prepared.”

“Of course it has.”

Chrissy grinned at me.

“Your house was ready for a cat before the cat knew she was moving in.”

“My house was ready because I have competent staff.”

“It still counts.”

Goblin opened one eye.

Chrissy kissed her forehead.

“You behave.”

I glanced at the shredded tassel.

“That instruction may have arrived too late.”

She laughed again.

Farah took Goblin carefully, and the cat immediately reached one paw back toward Chrissy.

Her expression softened.

“I’ll see you later.”

Something about the simple promise lodged under my ribs.