Page 26 of Girl Anonymous

“Yay me for not being murderous.” She used the sheet to wipe her damp cheeks. “That doesn’t bring her back to life.”

“But a life may have already begun that will bring peace between the families—and you’re the one carrying it.”

“Unlikely.” She waved an airy hand.

Yet he was starting to get to her.

“To return to the question about your virginity—you’ll admit I had no reason to suspect you might be a virgin.”

“I cannot believe I’m the only woman who made it to twenty-seven without—” she waved a hand “—sex.”

“Nuns? Vestal virgins? Who? Who do you know—?”

“No one. All right? No one. I’m the only one.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She wished he’d stop harping on it. Hersisters knew. Octavia knew. Other than that, she kept it pretty quiet because the one time she’d told a friend, the reaction had been incredulous. And loud. In a public place, and was one of the most humiliating moments of her life. She’d only been twenty-three, then. She could only imagine what it would be like now. She brightened. “On the other hand…it’s now a moot point.”

“And we’re right back to medieval times.”

“No blood on the sheets,” she said in a deliberately over-cheerful tone. “No proof for the skeptics!”

“No skeptic would dare disparage my word.”

No. She supposed not. She pulled the sheets up to her chin. Not when he wore the cold expression that clearly said he wouldn’t hesitate to kill.

“Based on what you said, I believed that at eleven you had been—”

“Hurt. I was bruised and intimidated and fingered. I was mocked for my helplessness. That incident put the fear of men in me, the trauma lingered, and I never met anyone who I cared to put to the test.”Until you.The unspoken words lingered in the air.

Some emotion brushed him, gratification, maybe, or confidence, or conceit. Of course, he pushed that aside and went right back to his line of reasoning. “Add in what your foster mother said, that after six months a man is a virgin again—”

“She was joking!”

“—we have a double-ancient-enemy-virgin-banging-without-protection. Which to me sounds like something out of a prophecy. Death or life, Maarja. That’s what this has come down to.”

“Superstition! This is not fate, it’s nothing but superstition!” He opened his mouth again and she charged on. “Okay. Okay.” She held up her hands in a stop gesture. Would he juststop? “Even if the gods are laughing, I do have one other suggestion, a possibility you haven’t mentioned. Considered.”

“Yes?”

“I’m a fine art mover. You’re some kind of billionaire invested in…some vague thing that isn’t illegal.”

“And isn’t immoral.”

She hesitated. That sounded less likeWe could do this thing to stop the nonsenseand more likeI’m trying to impress you with how appropriate I am as a husband. She didn’t know if that was better, or more alarming, and in the middle of this conversation, she didn’t have time to decide. “I’m glad to hear that.” Neutral enough. “We could just leave each other alone. Never see each other, pretend we don’t know each other, go our separate ways…”

“We could. Unless there’s—”

“A child. Yes, yes, I know. But if that’s not happening—”really, it was really unlikely, really“—and we’ll know soon enough, why should we give in to superstition? Why would we ever see each other again?”

“Because for the last two years, someone has been trying to kill my mother.”

CHAPTER 11

Heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

Shocked deep breath.

---