Page 42 of The Marriage Bargain

“Cheers?” I echoed, puzzled, retrieving my own glass.

“Yes, cheers. It’s a—it’s a dumb human thing. A toast. We clink glasses together. It’s like celebrating us, I guess.” She seemed embarrassed. “I mean, if there is anything about us to really celebrate.”

“I am happy to celebrate us,” I said sincerely, and I clinked my glass against hers. “Cheers, Delle.”

She flashed a relieved smile. “Cheers.”

We both sipped our wine in silence, standing there in my quiet kitchen, eating a simple meal, and getting accustomed to being in each other’s space. I found I liked having her here. At night, when I came home from a busy day of building and overseeing building at the Citadel, I had only an empty little house on a strange planet. I had no family. Few friends. Certainly, nobody waiting for me. Nobody to converse with. Normally, the silence and the solitariness didn’t bother me overmuch, but there were definitely times when I had thought to myself how pleasant it might be to come home to a wife. To not be alone.

I thought I could easily grow accustomed to this change as I watched her finish eating, then, without being directed or asked, set about cleaning up. I joined in, finding pleasure simply in her motions, her nearness, in watching her work. I wanted to talk to her, but words failed me. How did you ask the human female you had just married about her past, her life, her hopes for the future, her plans, her goals? I knew some of them. A brief overview. It occurred to me that, in a normal marriage, human or Asterion, two people welded their lives together because of common interests and goals and views. Here I had a wife, but I knew so little about her.

Was it right to try and discover more? Considering we had married on the pretext of keeping each other from fates neither of us wanted? Was it right to treat her like a real wife, if she…wasn’t? I wanted to know what she thought of my home…which she would now share. It was different from her sister’s. Rather stark and bare. Smaller, as well. Only one bedroom. One wash room. The living area. The kitchen. If she wanted to make changes, to fill it with novelties and decorations and pictures, like Tarra and Zyn’s, I did not mind. I decided to broach the topic another night, though.

When we finished cleaning, I realized if she were my real wife, the next logical step would be heading for my bedroom where I could remove her clothing and shed mine. It was hard not to picture that, but I tamped down on my desire.

You’re more than an animal needing to breed, I chided myself. Act like it.

The eating space cleared, Delle turned to me with a shy smile. “I wouldn’t mind a shower,” she said. “But I’ll have to borrow something from you to sleep in, if that’s okay.”

“Something from me?”

“Yes, like a shirt or something. If that’s okay,” she hastened to add. “I know it sounds stupid, but in all the excitement this afternoon of telling Tarra and Zyn and the wedding and—and everything, I forgot to pack an overnight bag. If you don’t want to share, I can sleep in my clo—”

“Oh no,” I interrupted, feeling foolish for not having realized immediately what she was driving at. “I will fetch you something.”

I paced out of the kitchen, expecting her to wait there. Instead, wordlessly, she followed me through the living area, down the hall and into the bedroom where she stood, hands on hips, glancing around.

“Nice room,” she said. “I see you’re not the type to make your bed every day.”

I glanced over at the unmade bed then back to her. She had a ghost of a smile and I thought she was teasing.

“Unfortunately not,” I replied, opening a drawer and pulling out a soft shirt. “Are you?”

“Not really. I’m pretty tidy overall, but I never saw the point of making the bed every day if nobody else is in your room to see it.”

“I suppose…we would be in each other’s room to see it. If you are to share my room,” I said, offering her the shirt.

She touched it with her fingertips where it still dangled from mine.

“True,” she said, and her voice had softened, almost to a whisper.

Instead of accepting the shirt and backing away, she stood there, an arm’s length distant, gazing up at me. Her expression behind her glasses was difficult to read, but she seemed to be staring at me with a mixture of apprehension and desire, overlayed by a softness that invited me to move in and draw her close. I swallowed hard, my mind racing as I contemplated if this was what she wanted—and then did exactly that.

Moved in.

Took her by the upper arms.

Gently tugged her close.

Her forearms were trapped between us. She still held the shirt, but it was forgotten as I brought my face towards hers.

“Delle,” I said, the word coming out in a husky whisper. It was a question. A question of whether I could do this. But it was also a warning. A warning that if she didn’t stop me, this was going to happen.

“Caide,” she breathed, and there was no warning to stop in her tone, no reluctance to proceed.

Thanking every deity in the Asterion pantheon, I groaned aloud and pressed my mouth against hers.

CHAPTER 24

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