mentioned...lovers.” Valerian spoke up again, his tone dripping with irritation. “Are they the reason you want to return home?”
Ugh. She’d yelled at him for misleading her, but she’d done the same to him. “I have a business. I have dreams.”
“What’s your business?”
Genuine interest? “I sell anti-cards.” Did Atlanteans celebrate holidays?
“Or, more accurately, I sell sarcasm to people who have stopped romanticizing life.”
A pause, as if he needed a moment to store every bit of info about her. “Give me an example of an anti-card.”
She thought for a moment. “Congratulations on your new job. Before you go, would you mind taking the knife out of my back? You’ll probably need it again.”
He chuckled, surprising her, delighting her—arousing her. Which was so freaking frustrating!
“Now tell me about your dreams,” he said.
A safe topic. One she embraced. “Well, while I was busy drowning, I admitted I’d like to write a book.”
A soft growl. “You were never in danger of drowning. And you can write a book here.”
“I have a feeling just do it here will be your answer to everything,” she told him dryly.
“Yes, I’m very wise.”
She had to cut off a laugh.
Twice, she realized. Twice he’d amused her—the moody, broody cold fish—in a way no one else ever had.
“I notice you mention nothing of your family,” he said, his tone now careful. “Not your mother and her new husband. Not your father.”
“We’ve never been close,” she admitted.
Love heals; it doesn’t hurt.
Argh! Those words!
“Their loss,” he said.
Love is the answer, not the problem.
“I...thank you?”
Another pause stretched between them. “I’ll be your family,” he said, and she could picture him banging his chest with his fists. “It will be my honor and my privilege.”
She rolled her eyes. “See! Told you just do it here would be your answer to everything.”
Let’s say she agreed to date Valerian. Would she ever be able to trust him? Was he capable of being faithful?
Shaye despised sharing. She’d shared her parents with their ever-changing lovers. She’d shared her childhood and her toys with stepsisters and stepbrothers.
If ever she gave herself to someone, it would be to a man who wanted her and only her. A man willing to give up his life just to make her happy. And she, in turn, would do the same for him.
Was she asking and offering too much? Maybe. But it was what she wanted, and she wouldn’t settle for less—even though she knew it was an impossibility. Perhaps that was why she wanted it in the first place. If she couldn’t really have it, she never had to worry about heartbreak.
Valerian talked a good talk, and granted, he could probably walk a delectable, mind-shattering walk all over her body, but how long would his affections last?
“As my queen,” he said, “you’ll be wealthy beyond imagining.”
“So. You think you can buy me?”
“I wish I could buy you,” he grumbled.
She wanted to laugh again. What is wrong with me?
She valued her independence and being with a nymph—the nymph, actually—would strip that independence away layer by precious layer. How many times had she seen her father’s girlfriends change their personality to fit him? Countless! Shaye refused, absolutely refused, to allow the same fate to befall her.
And yet, she told Valerian, “As long as I’m a prisoner, you won’t be a viable date for me.” As if there could ever be hope for more.
“No. I refuse to believe that. One day you’ll forgive me. And our children will love the story of our meeting.”
She nearly choked on her tongue. Children?
“Tell me a secret,” he said. To distract her?
Her shock must have loosened her tongue, because she admitted, “I like the color pink. Which is borderline humiliating! Pink equals girlie. A frilly princess.”
“And you don’t want to be a girlie princess because...”
“I’m tough, as hard as nails?” A question? Really? She hurried to remove the focus from her. “What about you? Tell me a secret.”
“One moment, Shaye,” he said, then muttered something she couldn’t discern.
Her brow furrowed with confusion until a male replied, “Yes, Majesty.” Footsteps rang out.
“All right. We’re alone again,” he told her.
Her first thought? Good! He’s mine, all mine.
I need help.
“As a boy,” he said, “I liked to nap in fields of lavender.”
“Because being so beautiful was exhausting?”
“You think I’m beautiful?” How happy he sounded.
“You know you are.”
“More beautiful than Joachim?”
Not going to travel that road. “Good night, Valerian.”
He sighed. “Sleep well, Shaye. I’ll protect you.”
In that, she believed him. An odd but undeniable fact.
She searched the rest of the room but found no other doorway. Disheartened—yes, that had to be it—she dug through the closet. A few feminine garments were mixed in with the array of masculine shirts and leathers. From past lovers?
Probably. Not that she cared.
Really!
Almost defiantly, Shaye selected a black T-shirt and a pair of pants she had to roll at the ankles. More comfortable, she moved to the window and parted the violet curtains.
Her eyes widened. Oh, wow. Thick, dew-kissed trees—some as bright as emeralds, others as white as snow—circled the landscape. Clear waterfalls spilled into pristine rivers while rainbow-colored birds soared overhead.
Absolutely magnificent.
In the heart of it all was
