Page 167 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“And that was that.” Pete shrugged as he considered his cards, and Tibbs checked. “We’ve been inseparable since.”
Rhoswen checked as well. “Lovely tale, that.”
“Hm,” I remarked, knowing that this avid romance reader could tell a better love story than that. “It would be, yes. If it were true.”
Though his laid-back expression remained, Pete’s gaze betrayed how much he’d like to shake me. “How have I spoken falsely, darlin’?”
Smiling to myself, I bet a small number of nuts. Too many would’ve scared everyone else into folding. “For one, you act as if we hadn’t seen each other before that night.”
His brows drew together. In annoyance, I supposed. What else was new?
“We hadn’t.” He called my bet, too irked that I’d risk jeopardizing the plausibility of his story to give my gameplay just consideration.
“You may not have seen me before that night, sweetums, but I’d seen you.” I sighed at the Blue Caps and lifted a shoulder. “You say I was sheltered, but I’d say I was caged. Like a bird—to be freed only upon marriage, when my ceyla would put me in another.”
Tibbs frowned for me.
“The monotony was endless—constant etiquette lessons, gown fittings, embroidery socials, luncheons with other vapid young ladies with no interest in anything other than wealth, looking pretty, and popping out faelets. Oh, and the occasional awkward encounter with a suitor my family decided was a good match for me.”
I wasn’t totally lying, which was why my audience stared so intently for the rest of my tale.
“I was so damn tired of my life not being my own. I’d fight with my parents daily for control.” I groaned inside at memory of all the altercations I’d had with Aunt Aylie and Uncle Neel. “I know I’m clueless about many things in this world, but I’m not complacent about it. I fought every day to better myself.”
Pete’s furrowed brow had smoothed. Had he detected the shards of truth in my deceit?
I’d captivated Tibbs so well that when Pete dealt the turn, she thought only a moment before making a modest bet, keeping me her focus. Or maybe she had good cards and was playing me. But I doubted she had three of a kind.
“That’s when I saw him.” I gestured at Pete. “I’d been storming through the gardens after yet another fight with my father, and I stopped to wrangle my temper. I looked up at the men working Daddy’s land, who were being scolded by an overseer, and this massive, smirking hulk of muscle—this bearded bundle of irreverence and defiance—”
Pete barked in delight. Surprised, I thought.
Biting my lip, I feigned indecision before calling Tibbs’s bet. Pete didn’t drag his dark eyes off me, also calling.
“Well, he just took my breath away,” I finished, making Rhoswen coo. “Our eyes met across the way for maybe a second before he went back to work, but I knew it right then.”
“Knew what?” In Tibbs’s suspense, she didn’t even glance down at the river Pete dealt.
I almost danced, another ace appearing. “That he was my key out of my cage—my road to freedom. Granted, he had his own cage to escape, but it wouldn’t hold him for long. He was meant for bigger things—just as I was. I thanked fate for bringing him into my life. For reminding me that there could, in fact, be more for me.”
Enchantment had both Blue Caps betting nuts carelessly.
I called them, then angled toward Pete, whose mocking gaze had softened like a knit blanket on a rainy day. His acting ability was remarkable.
“To put it simply—I crushed on him for several desperate months before we had our first real meeting.” My phony tenderness for Pete came so damn easily. Why wasn’t a question I trusted myself to ask. “I wanted to approach him the instant I saw him but knew I couldn’t. He’d never speak to me because of my father, who didn’t want the help getting friendly with his daughter.”
“As if that would’ve stopped me, darlin’,” Pete said. “I’d have gladly taken the lashes to flout such unholy dictates. For how could anyone expect a wretch like me to spurn the suns finally shining on him?”
I gulped at his delicate, subtle, devastating compliment. Was I the suns in his metaphor?
Mercyme.
I shook myself. “Regardless, I didn’t wish to get you in trouble. But when I heard about the danger in the woods, that you’d gone to hunt it without an overseer, I set out to—stumble—upon you. Stumbling into the dang cantir first was just bad luck.”
Our camp guests chortled, romanticism synchronized swimming in their eyes.
“Thank you, by the way.” Pete’s sweet words, hollow thought they were, had motivated my appreciation. I’d always been a sucker for a poet. “I never did say how grateful I was that you killed that monster before it hurt me. So, thank you—for helping me.”
In the firelight, Pete’s eyes were a decadent, dark caramel. They locked with mine as he tipped his head. “You’re very welcome, darlin’. It’d have been a crying shame had the beast eaten a treasure such as you.”
