All's Fair in Love and Lion (8 page)

Chapter 13: Monroe

Saturday I lay in bed considering my options. I could claim illness, enjoy a day in bed and brave Bast and Alexia’s wrath. Of course, Bast would see through my excuse.

Getting up, I step into the shower and let the water run over me. Thoughts of Sasha fill my mind. I wonder if her visit with her friend went well.

After I’m dressed, Ayres materializes. “Lord Bast and Lady Alexia expect you in ten minutes.”

“I’m on my way. If anyone should come, advise them I’m uncertain as to when I’ll return.”

Ayres bows. “Of course, sir. Have a good time.”

I enter the inner courtyard. Moments later I rap on the bronze doors of Bast and Alexia’s castle.

Bast’s valet opens the door.

“Rictor, old man. How are you?”

Rictor regards me with his usual boredom. “Lord and Lady Cantrell await you in the parlor.”

I pass the stuffy man and head for a small passageway. “I’ll show myself in.” Reaching a plain, wood door, I call, “Bast, you idiot, are you in there?”

“Come in, Monroe.”

The door creaks open. Inside, dark blue curtains frame massive windows misted over by the early morning drizzle. A piano rests in a corner. In another corner, Bast turns around as he pours rich coffee into mugs.

Alexia gets up from her chair in the middle of the room. Her body barely hints at her condition. She glides over and rising on tiptoe, she kisses my cheek. “I’m glad you came.”

“It seems pregnancy suits you, Alexia. Your errant husband behaving himself?”

Her laughter fills the room. “Monroe, you’re terrible. Bast is a marvelous husband.”

Bast walks over and wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Alexia didn’t tell you the big news.”

“I know she’s pregnant,” I interrupt.

They exchange a look. “No, man. Not only pregnant. We’re having twins.”

I blink. “Twins?”

Beaming, Alexia nods. She moves away from Bast and picks up a cup. “Would you like some coffee, Monroe?”

“Please.” I take the steaming mug from her. “Well,” I finally say once we’re seated, “congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Bast answers.

“Has Sasha accepted you?” Alexia asks.

I set my drink on the floor and lean back in my chair. “She’s accepted my marriage proposal.”

Alexia smiles, her dark eyes shining. “I’m so glad.”

Bast sets his own mug down and his forehead furrows. “What about the Council? Where will you two live?” His face creases further. “How will you have a wedding? Is she comfortable with the engagement after such a short time of believing in you?”

Alexia puts a hand on his shoulder. “One question at a time, Bast. You’ll overwhelm him.”

“No, Alexia,” I say. “He’s right. These are important questions. Sasha did express some apprehension over the brief amount of time we’ve known each other, however I promised her a long engagement.” I rock the chair back and forth on its back legs. “As to the Council, you’re a member, so you’ll be there when I mention it to them. Where we’ll live is up to Sasha.”

“I see,” Bast replies.

“This isn’t the first instance of a Firstling and a Thirdling falling in love,” Alexia reminds Bast.

“No,” Bast says. “Just unusual.”

“If they love each other then I don’t see a problem.” Her features darken. “Neither should you.”

“Thank you for the support,” I say.

“You’re happy, aren’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Alexia giggles. “And Sasha?”

“I plan to make her happy to the best of my ability.” I let the chair rest back on all four legs.

“If it’s meant to be,” Alexia says, “then nothing will get in your way.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic, my love.” Bast kisses her cheek.

“Don’t let Bast put a damper on your plans, Monroe. He’s merely concerned.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

He grimaces. “Monroe would have you think all I do is laugh at him.”

Alexia pats his knee. “Poor Bast. Not many take you seriously.”

“Oh well.” He puts his hands behind his head. “It’s fine with me.”

“Yes,” I add, “Bast relishes playing the fool.”

He throws me a glare. “I’m not a fool.”

“Not always. Most of the time you’re an idiot,” I respond.

“Retract that statement,” he growls.

“Never.” I grin.

“Boys!”

Bast smirks arrogantly. “Alexia doesn’t want me to make mincemeat of you.”

“Like you could,” I retort. “A jackal outdo a lion? Keep your delusions, Bast. I’ll not rob you of them.”

Alexia rolls her eyes.

“So,” I say, getting out of my chair. “Are we sitting around all day or do we hunt? I admit the weather isn’t ideal. However, I’ve need for the exercise.”

“You two have a good time.” She nods to her husband. “I’m going to take a nap.”

He kisses her lips, then stands. “If you’re ready, Monroe, we can go.”

“Have a good afternoon, Alexia.” I drop a kiss on her cheek.

“You, too, Monroe. Bast, you behave.” She wags her finger at him and leaves the room.

Bast stretches. “The Adon Forrest?”

“We’re unlikely to run into Delton there.”

“You’ll hear no arguments from me,” Bast replies. “Let’s go.”

We wander out the front door and in the courtyard and transport ourselves into the middle of Adon Forrest. The thick foliage provides perfect hiding places. I flex my fingers. “Well?”

Bast cracks his knuckles. “Ready when you are.”

I drop to my hands and knees, stretch, shut my eyes, and feel myself changing. My legs and arms lengthen. My hands and feet disappear to reveal paws with long, sharp claws. My hair thickens and spreads into a full mane. Twitching my tail, I glimpse Bast in full jackal form.

“We haven’t hunted together in far too long,” I growl.

“Unfortunately we’re both pretty busy. Come on, I smell deer.”

I lick my teeth and prepare to spring forth. “I’ll race you.”

“You’re on.”

The two of us take off, side-by-side. The air rushing by, the trees and bushes a blur. As Bast pulls ahead, he calls over his shoulder, “You should let the lionesses do your hunting for you, as they do in the wild. You can’t seem to keep up.”

“Watch yourself, Bast,” I snarl and dig in. Soon I overtake him. When we get near a clearing, we slow down. Stealthily, we creep behind the bushes that border the area. From our vantage point, we assess our quarry.

“A whole herd.” Bast salivates. “This will be fun.”

We wait. The deer are nervous and dancing on their hooves. Their tantalizing scent floats through the air and I breathe in, savoring the aroma. The herd’s noses twitch. The buck raises his head. They’re ready to run. Bast gives me the signal.

With a roar, I spring from beneath the bushes and dive into the herd. Bast moves in on the opposite end and the frightened animals scatter. Bast eagerly terrorizes the southern side, while I go to the north. My heart thumps with excitement as we run after them.

I knock a straggler down as the rest of the herd scampers off into thicker parts of the forest. Leaning over my kill, I savor the raw flesh while Bast guards the two he’s managed to get. He devours his portion while waiting for me to finish.

It’s too bad human food isn’t as satisfying. I pause. I wonder what Sasha would think about hunting. Would she find it repulsive? Would it make her not want me? I clear my mind. These aren’t questions for the moment at hand.

When I’ve finished eating, I clean my paws and lick my chops. I return to human form and rejoin Bast, who’s also back in human form.

“Will Alexia eat a whole deer by herself?” I ask. “She’s so delicate.”

“You’d be amazed what the pregnancy has done for her appetite. I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t rip me to shreds in the process.”

“Ouch.” I wince.

“Exactly. Are you going to help me carry this thing or am I on my own? I can carry it, you know. But, I’m lazy.”

“I’ll help you. Carry the hindquarters. They suit you. I’ll take the fore.”

“Wow, Monroe,” he says. “What a compliment. How will I ever recover?”

I don’t let him see my smile as I pick up the head of the now dead deer and heft it onto my shoulder. After Bast lifts the other end, we transport ourselves back to his castle.

“Go ahead and open the door,” he says. “Rictor will have left it unlocked.”

I open the door and we wander through the corridors to the kitchens. “You think Alexia will want it cooked or raw?”

“It’ll have to be cooked,” he says in a regretful tone. “In her condition she can’t transform. The human side of us can’t handle raw food.”

“A pity.”

We toss the deer onto the counter.

“I haven’t heard the end of her complaining about that. It can’t be helped.”

We wander into his courtyard.

“Before you go,” Bast says, “have you figured out how you’re going to handle Lily? You know she’ll vote against you at the Council meeting.”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I won’t let her win, though. I’ve had enough of her games. All our lives, she’s been a pain. Especially to me. I don’t understand how she can possibly think I’d want her.” I clench my hands into fists. “Even now, she still shows up at my castle. For some reason Ayres can’t detect her and he doesn’t know why. I hope Sasha never comes across her.”

“Haven’t you told Sasha about Lily and her obsession with you?”

“I’m putting it off as long as possible. Things are a little shaky between us. I don’t want Sasha thinking I harbor some secret desire for Lily.”

“Lily ought to know differently by now.” Bast sighs. “She hasn’t changed since we were kids. I don’t envy you dealing with that tigress. I wish you well. And about the Council . . . for what it’s worth, I’m on your side.”

“I appreciate that, Bast.” I clear my throat. “I should go. Sasha was seeing her friend Melody for the first time in months. I wonder if she told her about me. My felicitations to you and Alexia on expecting twins.”

“Thank you, Monroe. I wouldn’t put off telling Sasha much longer. One of these days she’s going to find out and it would be better if she found out from you.”

“Yes.” I rake a hand through my hair. “Stay well.”

“You, too.”

Back home, I make my way down to my den. My heart stops when I see Sasha curled up in a tight ball on her couch. Something about it seems off. All thoughts of Lily and Bast’s warning vanish. I don’t think twice. I’m in her home as soon as the thought enters my head.

Chapter 14: Sasha

Footsteps. I lift my head to find Monroe kneeling down beside the couch. “What’s amiss?”

He draws me to him and I hide my face in his cotton shirt. In my discouragement over my lunch with Mel, I forget any concerns I had and let his comfort seep into me. He doesn’t seem to mind I’m smearing make up all over his white shirt. He simply rubs my back and murmurs soothingly, “What happened?”

Hesitantly I give him the details of my lunch with Mel and her reaction. “I don’t see how it’s going to work. It can’t be done. You see that, don’t you?”

“What I see,” he says softly, “is my beloved upset. Melody probably needs time. I refuse to believe you’ve given up.”

“It’s not giving up. I’m facing reality.”

A low rumble emits from his throat. Startled by his anger, I push out of his arms.

He straightens and restlessly paces the room. “How many times must I tell you before you believe? This”—he gestures from himself to me—“is supposed to happen. We’re meant for each other. Everything you’ve experienced with me is real.”

Sitting up, I dry my tears. “I’m trying. But how can I expect Mel or anyone else to understand? What am I supposed to tell them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mel thinks I’ve lost my mind or lying.” I draw my knees up and hug them to my chest.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve given you something less conspicuous than the ring. We should’ve discussed what you’d say to your friends.” He shakes his head. “I’ve made a mess of things.”

“I chose to slip the ring on. Despite any doubts I have, I can’t help being flattered you’d give it to me. Besides, I could’ve asked you not to give me one.”

“No, I did this to you. It’s my responsibility to find a way to fix this situation. You don’t have to wear the ring, Sasha. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

“What good is giving it to me if I don’t wear it?”

He strokes his chin. His face brightens. “Give it to me. I have an idea.”

I hand the ring to him and he disappears. Wandering into the bathroom, I switch on the lights and a shudder runs down my spine.
What a mess.
I dab some powder on my nose and frown in disgust. I’ve been such a baby. What am I? Thirty, or two?

“Sasha?” Monroe’s voice calls from the living room. “Where are you?”

“I’ll be right out.” I fluff out my hair and hurry out of the room.

Monroe sits on the couch. He’s changed into a clean, hunter-green shirt. Embarrassment warms my cheeks as I think about his poor servants trying to get mascara out of a white shirt.

I perch on the couch next to him. “What’s your idea?”

“Here,” he replies and opens his hand. In his palm he holds a plain round, gold locket.

Picking up the locket, I open it. Inside there’s a lifelike portrait of Monroe. “It’s amazing! Your artists are so talented.”

He brushes my compliments aside. “It’s tradition in my family that the men have one made for our future brides. I had it made a couple of weeks ago.”

“A little presumptuous,” I tease.

“I was hoping.” He clears his throat. “In any case, you could wear that under your clothes if you want. Then you won’t get so many questions. I’ll save the ring for another time.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll help you fasten it on. The clasp is a bit tricky.” I turn around and lift my hair. His fingers lightly brush my neck sending chills down my spine. He fixes the clasp with a click and I drop my hair.

I face forward again. “How does it look?”

“On you,” he says, a gleam in his eyes, “everything looks lovely.”

“You exaggerate.”

“Not a bit.”

“What should I tell people about us?”

“What did you say to Mel?”

“I told her you worked for the government. Like the CIA. I didn’t give many details about how we met. I said we ran into each other.”

“I do work for a government. I’m on the Council of the Third Realm. It’s passed down from generation to generation. So you didn’t lie.”

“I still feel terrible. I haven’t ever kept details about my relationships from her before.” Although, even she doesn’t know the details of my childhood. Someday I’ll have to tell Monroe. My heart fills with dread. Very few people know about my aunt. She didn’t exactly care much for me.

Monroe moves closer. “If she’s as good a friend as you’ve said, she’ll forgive your silence and support you.”

The scent of sunshine mixed with desire overwhelms my senses, reminding me of all the delicious kisses he’s given me in my dreams. A shiver part anticipation, part thrill dances along my nerve-endings. How can a man I barely know be the embodiment of all my deepest fantasies? Caught between curiosity and fear, I dare to run my finger down his cheek. “You really are a prince of a guy.”

He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest. “Don’t reveal my secret. It’ll ruin my reputation.” He draws me closer. “I missed you.”

“Did you?”

“Bast makes poor company in comparison.”

The giggle dies in my throat as his lips find mine. I moan and he deepens the kiss as if he can’t get enough.

In his crushing embrace, my ribs press hard against my lungs and I’m forced to back off. “Enough,” I choke, “are you trying suffocate me?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have gotten carried away.”

He slowly regains control over himself and I wait for the end of the fireworks in my head.

“I was right,” he finally says.

“About what?”

His mouth quirks in amusement. “I once thought you were dangerous. This proves it.”

“I nearly die of suffocation and you’re blaming me?”

“Perhaps we should put aside kissing for a while, since it’s unsafe for both of us.”

“Speak for yourself,” I mutter.

He breaks into a roar of laughter and I hit him with one of the couch throw pillows. He ducks, putting his hands up.

“Cease,” he pleads between his chuckles, “I surrender.”

I struggle not to laugh. “You better.” I smack him one more time for good measure.

“Remind me,” he says, taking the pillow from my hand, “never to go against you. You don’t fight fair.” He tosses the pillow onto the recliner.

Under his gaze, tingles of pleasure spread through me. Reaching up, I trace my fingertips down his cheek. “Thanks for cheering me up.”

He draws me back into his embrace. “It is my pleasure to do whatever I can for you, my lioness.”

He believes in me. I’ve wished for someone who could believe in me. A person I could feel confident around. Perhaps with Monroe I can prove to myself my confidence isn’t only when I’m in front of my students, but other places, too.
I toss him a grin. “Grr.”

He chuckles and begins tickling me. “Grr, indeed.”

Between giggles, I plead, “Stop! Please!”

“Surrender,” he says, “then I’ll stop.”

“After everything you put me through? Never.” I shriek as he continues tickling my ribs. “You talk about not fighting fair.” I try in vain to push his hands away. “What do you call this?” Another giggle bursts from my lips.

“Turnabout,” he says, “is fair play. Do you surrender?”

I stand and grab the throw pillow off the recliner and brandish it threateningly. “Why should I? First you complain I don’t fight fair, then you tickle me. I shouldn’t give in to a hypocrite.”

“A hypocrite? You wound me.” He throws himself backward on the couch clutching his chest.

I roll my eyes, then hold out my hand. Secretly, a part of me finds his dramatics cute. Maybe I decided to marry him because of my dreams and curiosity, but the little flip my heart does at his boyish expression makes me wonder if I could really fall in love with him. “How about a truce?”

He takes my hand. “Do me one favor.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t ever tell Bast about this. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What will you give me in return?”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

I give him a sidelong glance. “Return one favor for another.”

“Name your price.”

“A kiss.”

“Yours.” He gently lowers his mouth onto mine. Far too soon he breaks our embrace. “I daren’t go further at the moment after what happened earlier.”

“Do you think I could see the Third Realm someday?”

“We’ll see. There are things I’ll have to do first. One, I must get your prom attire, two, I’ll meet with the Council.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Despite the fact that I’m on the Council, certain things rest in the other members’ hands.”

“Such as?”

“What they’ll decide regarding our relationship. I intend to marry you regardless.” A grin spreads across his features, then abruptly vanishes. “However, certain stipulations exist, which I can’t ignore. I’d rather not discuss those right now. Tomorrow the Council meets. Tonight, I enjoy your company.”

“Have you had dinner?”

“I had a rather large lunch. Feel free to have something, though.”

I head for the fridge. Selecting some leftover tuna salad and pita bread, I close the door and grab a glass of ice water. I bring my dinner to the table. Monroe pulls out a chair for me. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he answers and then sits across from me. “Is it good?”

“Yes. I got the recipe from a friend.”

When I’m done, Monroe holds out a hand. “Come, you’ve had a rough day. Let me ease your tension.”

“How do you propose to do that?”

“A massage,” he says, “followed by a hot bath with bubbles. I promise not to peek,” he adds with a seductive smile.

“I’m not sure whether or not to trust you.”

“It’s sorely tempting, but I won’t.”

“How gallant of you,” I say sarcastically.

“A gentleman must always behaves nobly towards his lady.”

“Your tutor’s words?”

“No, my mother’s.”

I duck my head.

“What’s wrong?”

Memories of my own mother flash before my eyes. A hollow feeling enters my heart. “I’d rather not go into it. How about that massage instead?”

He starts to say something, then stops as he glances at my face. “Of course.”

He rubs my shoulders as my eyes close. I lean into the pressure of his hands. The weariness and stress overcome me and I feel myself getting drowsy.

Monroe chuckles softly and picks me up. I cuddle up against his chest, feeling as though I finally have come home. He carries me down the hall to my bedroom and sets me on the bed, tugging the covers over me.

“Sleep well, my love,” he whispers in my ear. Then, he’s gone.

I’m about to drop off to sleep when I jerk awake.

What will the Council say?