All's Fair in Love and Lion (5 page)

Chapter 8: Sasha

I unlock my apartment before Monroe breaks the silence in my mind.
“Welcome home.”

“Thank you,” I say aloud and close the door behind me. Kicking off my shoes, I leave my laptop and purse in the kitchen and shuffle into the bedroom. “Do you mind leaving for a moment while I change?”

He sighs.
“Say my name when you’re finished.”

After I sense he’s left, I yank off my stockings, skirt, and blouse. In their place, I put on a comfy T-shirt, jeans, and jam my feet into slippers. Softly I call, “All right, Monroe, you can come back.” I wander into the living room and sit down on the couch to wait.

A moment later a shimmering figure takes shape beside me. Slowly Monroe appears.

“It worked?”

“Apparently. This is different.” His awestruck tone mirrors how I feel.

“I . . . I . . .”

“My sentiments, exactly. I wouldn’t question why or how. Let’s make the most of the situation.”

“Right.”

He sits next to me. “So, this is what it’s like to be here in the First Realm. I could get used to it.”

He’s clearer than in my dreams. His eyes appear sharper as he meets my gaze. I quickly turn my attention to his long, silky, dirty-blond hair held back by a black elastic.
What would it be like to slide the elastic out and run my fingers through the strands?
Nervously, I set the thought aside and finish my perusal of him.

He wears a white button-down shirt, black pants, and matching dress shoes. A nice combination of casual, yet gentlemanly.
Just like a real prince.
Silently, I gulp.
Did that really cross my mind? Hopefully he didn’t notice.

To cover my tracks, I let my gaze travels upwards, again. For the first time I notice his firm jaw, the definition clearer in reality. His shoulders are broader than I dreamt. His tanned, muscular hands rest lightly on his knees. My attention returns to his gorgeous face.
I doubt I’ll tire of his looks anytime soon.
“Wow.”

He smiles, which nearly makes me faint. “I might say the same thing.”

Embarrassed, I pick at a fingernail. “Will you stop?”

“Why? I think you’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful doesn’t apply to me.”

“On the contrary.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “It definitely fits.”

“Now what?”

“Whatever you want. Your every whim is my command.” He stands and gives a flourishing bow.

Unsure of what to do next, I rise awkwardly to my feet. “I need a cup of tea. Would you like something?”

“Tea is fine. I wouldn’t expect you to have any wine or beer.”

“I’m not much of a drinker.”

“No worries. Lead the way.” He follows me into the kitchen and I find it hard to concentrate with him within such close proximity to me.

Setting the kettle on the stove, I stand on tiptoe and reach for the box of teabags. “How’s this?” I ask, holding up Cinnamon Apple flavor. “It’s my favorite.”

“Whatever you want.”

His hands grip the counter on either side of me. Leaning against the edge of the counter, I will my heart to slow down.

“I won’t hurt you.”

I lick my lips. “I don’t have much experience with men.”

He moves closer. My heart rams against my chest. “Let me see if I can reassure you.”

“Um . . .” I search for something to say.

“Shhh. Just relax.”

He lowers his head and presses his lips on mine. I lose track of time, where I am, and everything except the thundering in my ears and the feel of Monroe’s strong arms. When he draws me closer, the scent of spring grass and sunshine fills my senses. His groan makes my heart flutter. A soft moan escapes me. His hands plunge through my hair. My legs feel like melted butter. I lean into his arms. His grip tightens and more tingles shoot down my arms and legs.

A high-pitched whistle from the kettle causes us to break apart.

“Noisy thing,” Monroe addresses the kettle. Hazily I take kettle off the burner. He stands behind me, his arms around my waist. Burying his face in my hair, he lets out an appreciative murmur. “Mmm, your hair smells of sunflowers.”

“Do you want tea?” Popping a teabag into the cup, I pour the water and hand it to him.

“I hardly ever drink tea.”

“It’s got a calming effect on me.”

“Shall we find a more comfortable setting, or do you prefer to stand?”

“We can sit in the living room.” I lead the way and plop down on my old tan suede couch. He sits beside me and takes a sip from his cup.

“Well?”

“Not bad, but I still prefer wine or beer.” He winks at me. “No matter.” He sets our mugs aside. “Are you all right?”

I clasp and unclasp my hands. “I’m not used to you being real.”

His gaze holds mine. “I told you I was.”

“It never seemed possible.”

“Dreams can come true,” he says. “Despite how silly that sounds.”

I bite my lip. “Like a fairy-tale?”

“Unlike the fairy-tales, though, I’m as real as you.”

“I’m realizing that,” I whisper.

Monroe asks what books are my favorites, the things he saw in my mind, and my dreams for the future.

“I want a family,” I confess, as he strokes his thumb over my hand. I meet his gaze. “You know, children. My family life was so distant after my parents died. I reminded my aunt too much of her brother, my dad. Plus, she has her own children.” I swallow. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Having a family with you would be a gift.”

“What if you’re wrong about us?”

He brings my hand to his lips. “I have faith we’re meant to be, or I wouldn’t pursue you.” He winks again. “Besides, I don’t want anyone else. You’re stuck with me.”

“I barely know you.”

“Get to know me. Ask me anything you want. Besides, I’m hoping you’ll marry me one day.”

“Marry you?”

He cocks his head to one side, his eyebrows knit together. “Don’t you Firstlings have marriage?”

“Well . . . yes. But, don’t you think it’s rather soon?”

“Nonsense!”

For a minute I’m speechless. “I’m serious. We hardly know each other.”

When he answers, his voice has a note of impatience. “Sasha, you’ve dreamt of me for many nights. Haven’t you learned anything about me during that time?”

“I know you’re good, kind, and honorable. How is that enough?”

“Let’s get to know each other and revisit this topic another time, all right?”

“But . . .”

“Trust me.”

“I told you in my dreams I wasn’t looking for a husband. I mean, I want one someday . . . but, you know how shy I am!”

Ever since Monroe entered my life I’ve felt a little different. Especially since the thought of being Monroe’s wife has crossed my mind. But, how do I tell him? I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve always felt my only place was my job. Now it’s changing. If my friend Mel knew, would she wonder what’s come over me? And what would I say, when I can’t figure it out?

“All the more reason for me to convince you otherwise.”

“Monroe—”

He cuts off the rest with his mouth and—heaven help me, in spite of everything—I can’t stop from losing myself in his embrace.

Yet, somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind I can’t shake the feeling the way we met isn’t the only unbelievable thing I’ll experience with Monroe.

Chapter 9: Monroe

“I prefer being with you in your world. There, I can discover your thoughts from your own lips, rather than sensing them.”

“Must you go? My dreams won’t be the same without you.”

My heart clenches at her crestfallen expression. “I’ll be with you when you’re awake.” I let her go and find myself back in the Third Realm.

Passing the tapestry covered corridors, I throw open the doors of my bedchamber. I frown. “Ayres, I think I can manage to change my clothes for bed without your assistance.”

He taps his foot, emitting disapproval. “You haven’t slept in two days, sir. I’m not certain you’re capable of much at this point.” His usually neat white hair sticks out around him like a cloud. “You must be exhausted. Let me help you.”

“Good heavens, man, I’m not incapacitated. Go to bed. I can change my own clothes.”

Ayres clucks his tongue while I struggle with pulling off my boots.

“Oh, get out of here, Ayres. You sound like a mother hen.”

He bows. Backing out of the room, he shuts the door behind him.

A brief twinge of guilt pricks me. The old man has been with my family long before I was born. The guilt disappears when I remember his bossiness. He doesn’t need my sympathy.

The next morning Ayres draws back the curtains and sunlight streams into the room.

“What are you doing?” I shield my eyes.

“It’s nearly half-past noon, sir. I thought you might want sustenance.” He indicates my nightstand where a tray rests. “I’ll return to help you dress.”

“I’ll dress myself today. You go on with other duties.”

He pauses at the door. “If you are certain?”

“Quite. Now leave.”

He lifts an eyebrow when I glare at him. He vanishes into vapor, then the vapor disappears.

I pick at the smoked ham and swallow the coffee in one long, scalding gulp.

After a quick shower, I yank on pants, shirt, and shoes.

“Give me the reports for the day in my den,” I call to Ayres as I head down the hallways.

Ayres’ form comes together and he falls into step beside me. “Lord Bast awaits you there.”

“When did he arrive?”

“Five minutes ago. I was on my way to tell you.” Ayres’ calm demeanor betrays no emotion.

Bast stands as I come in and holds out a hand to me.

“Well, Monroe,” he says, “you’re finally here.”

“What’s the trouble?”

“None. I’ve news.” Bast’s grin is wide enough to split his face. “Alexia is pregnant.”

I push aside the envy.
Bast would make a better father than me anyway.
“Excellent. Why didn’t you tell me last time you were here?”

“It wasn’t confirmed until yesterday. I would’ve told you then, but Ayres informed me you were out.”

“Yes, I had other business.”

“Would that other business be of the female variety, specifically a Firstling?” Bast nudges me.

“As if I’d tell you. I already made that mistake.”
A part of me still smarts from it, too.

“I assume things have progressed?”

I grunt.

“Affirmative, then?” He laughs. “Ah, Monroe. It’s about time you settle down.”

“Indeed.”

He slaps my back. “It’ll be a nice change to have you in a better mood. My compliments to Sasha, if you please.”

I shove Bast away. “Enough.”

Unfazed, he rubs his hands together. “This is perfect. You’ll get out of the testy mood you’ve adopted since we became adults and enjoy life.”

Ayres’s entrance into the room prevents me from answering. He puts a tray of two glasses and a bottle of port on an end table and leaves the room.

“I suppose you’ll have a glass of port with me?” I ask.

“A small one. I must get back.”

“Of course.” I hand him a glass, taking one for myself. I lift my glass. “To Alexia. May she endure your hovering better than anyone, and repay you by giving birth to one who will annoy you as much as you have me.”

He rolls eyes. “Great toast, Monroe. Regardless, I’ll drink to Alexia.” He raises his own glass.

“You deserve it after how you’ve treated me.”

“I treat you fine. You’re the one with the irritable disposition. To think of what I’ve borne the last thirty years is enough to injure a weaker man.” The corner of his mouth twitches.

“If I’m irritable, you only have yourself to blame.”

“No matter. Your moods never stopped me from being your friend. I know underneath beats the heart of a true and loyal comrade.”

I shake my head. “You’ve gone soft since you married.”

“Sasha can do that for you,” he chortles, then pats my shoulder. “I wish you the same happiness I’ve found.”

“Oh get on with you,” I say gruffly, shrugging his hand off. “I thought you had to return to Alexia.”

“Before I do, there’s something you should know.”

“What?”

“Lily came to see me.”

“This is what you wanted to tell me? Heavens, Bast, why don’t you cut off my arm while you’re at it!”

“So, she was telling the truth. She has come to see you since she returned.”

“When she went to visit her misbegotten uncle, Alveron, and we didn’t hear from her in months, I thought I was rid of her. Then she shows up in her usual way. The usual song and dance about our parents’ accursed desire for our marriage.” I slam my fist on the table holding the tray of port. The tray clatters to the floor, shattering the glass decanter. “Never have I been more relieved my parents were dead than I am now. They were nightmare enough while they lived. The legacy they left me wasn’t this castle or my duty to the Council, but a stupid tigress who can’t seem to get it through her thick skull I hate her!”

“Does Sasha know about Lily?”

“Not yet.”

“Monroe, you know she’ll find out. Either you’ll slip and tell her or she’ll find out some other way. And when she does, you best know what you’re doing.”

“If only we didn’t have that damn rule about not killing one another.”

A ghost of a smile lights Bast’s lips. “The Creator Lord be praised we do. If not, you might’ve killed off a good number of Thirdlings because of your temper.”

“You as well.”

“No, not me. Despite all your protests, I know you care.”

“Has anyone told you you’re an idiot, Bast?”

He laughs. “You have, many times.”

“Still true.”

“There’s the Monroe we love and cherish.”

“Bastian J. Cantrell, you tread a fine line between life and death.”

He opens his pocket watch. “Unfortunately, I haven’t the time to properly challenge you. Some other time, hmm?”

“Go run home to the protection of your wife, you puppy.”

“Always a pleasure seeing you, too.”

In spite of myself, I feel my lips twitch. “Oh, get along with you, you moronic canid.”

“Come see us sometime. Alexia misses you. She said if I didn’t invite you over this time I’d sleep out in the cold.”

“Give my sincerest congratulations to your brave wife. I’ll come soon.”

“I’ll advise her not hold her breath as you have pressing female business on your mind.”

“Bast, watch your tongue or else I’ll be forced to cut it out.”

“Sometime you should do so instead of these empty threats.”

“One day.”

“Until then, I bid you a fond farewell. Don’t drive Ayres too crazy, and beware of Lily.” Bast makes his way to the door and I throw another threatening look his way. He salutes. “
Adieu
, my friend.”

“Get out, fiend,” I bellow.

He exits, his laughter filling the castle.

Rolling my eyes, I peek into the First Realm. I note it’s past when Sasha’s school dismisses for the day and contemplate entering her mind. A rush of protective feelings course through me. I’ve lived thirty-five lonely years before I met Sasha. I can’t, won’t, let Lily near her.

Creator in Heaven, keep her safe. Don’t let Lily get her hands on her, not after I’ve spent so much time battling envy of Bast and everyone else happily married.

In my mind’s eye I picture Sasha, her sky-blue eyes focused on a student’s paper while her red pen flashes across the page. I concentrate on how much she loves teaching and in one swift movement I’m with her. For a minute I’m dizzy as I realized it actually worked. I force my own mind to relax.

“Sasha.”

“You scared me,” she answers out loud.

“I apologize.”

“Where have you been today? It’s been quiet.”

“You missed me.”

She fights her grin. “Just an observation.”

“I’m sorry. You see, I only woke recently, and my friend, Bast, insisted upon visiting me today.”

“Does he come often?” She picks out another student’s paper.

“Not really. Are you all right?”

“I’m sorry I’m not the most fascinating company. I have these essays from the first act of
The Tempest
to grade.”

“Your work demands your full attention, then?”

“Mostly.” She leans back in her chair, rubbing her temples. “I did miss you.”

“And I you.”

“Does that mean I’ve lost my mind?”

“No. You’re quite sane.”

“Are you?”

I laugh.
“I presume I’m saner since I’ve met you.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. How is the essay contest coming?”

“Only ten entries out of over a hundred students. In previous years there has been more interest.” She sighs. “I wish more would sign up.”

“Sounds like they don’t fully appreciate the opportunities you offer them.”
Tension rises in her mind, but she battles it back.

“Goes with the territory.”

“You’re a brave woman. I would’ve skewered them all.”

Laughing, she covers her mouth with a hand. “I wouldn’t recommend that.”

Amusement rises in me.
“Perhaps it isn’t a good idea.”

“It’s illegal and amoral.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you finished or should I come back later?”

She stretches her arms above her head. “I’m done. I’ll gather my things and drive home. You’ll appear again?”

“If you wish.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, sweetest.”
I exit her mind and after a while, I’m standing in the middle of her kitchen. I put on a kettle of water as I await her arrival. My fingers clench into fists as I fight against the fear. Lily won’t get to Sasha. Relaxing my hands, I compose myself. Sasha mustn’t sense anything’s wrong.