Page 174 of Primal Bonds

She fisted her hands and brought them to her forehead, breathing hard. She’d promised Fane just to look—and she had.

If she went back later to do more, that wasn’t breaking her promise—was it?

Because if she left without putting her cousin out of his misery, she wasn’t any better than him.

Chapter 14

Fane returned with two cups of coffee and a steel box holding fruit, granola, nuts and skyr, the Icelandic version of yogurt. Jumping up, she took the coffee from him while he set the box on the little table. One cup was nearly white with cream, the other black.

She eyed the coffee with cream longingly, but her mama had raised her to be polite. “Which one do you want?”

“Your choice.”

“You sure?”

His lips twitched. “I prefer my coffee black. The cream’s for you. I had a feeling you’d like it.”

“You guessed right.” She handed him the black coffee and took a sip of her own milky-brown brew. Perfect. Her eyes slit with pleasure.

“Have a seat and I’ll make you a bowl of granola.”

“You don’t have to wait on me.”

“Jani. Have a seat.”

She sat back down and watched as he spooned the skyr into two bowls of granola, sprinkling nuts on top. He handed one to her and took the other chair.

“I heard some people talking,” he said. “The goblins have been called off. That’s something, anyway.”

She nodded. “Do you know how long Corban has been in the cage?”

“A week, maybe more. But in your world, that’s close to a month.”

“What do you mean ‘in my world’?”

“Time runs differently here. Sometimes a day is a day, and sometimes a day is ten days. But I was here a month ago when Lady B threw him in the cage. Before that, he was her lover.”

“Her lover?”

He nodded. “For over a year. I don’t know what went wrong. Maybe she just got tired of him.”

Marjani shook her head. “I thought Corban was smarter than that.”

“She’s a beautiful woman, and when she amps up her glamour…” Fane spread his hands. “She can have just about any man she wants.”

She slid him a look. She had to ask, even if she didn’t like the answer. “What about you?”

“Me?” He snorted. “I prefer my balls attached to my body, thank you very much.”

She nodded, her cat quietly satisfied. For some damn reason, it was feeling possessive about this man.

“I wish—” He shook his head.

She ate another mouthful of granola. “Maybe”—she looked down at the cereal, suddenly bashful—”you can look me up the next time you’re in Baltimore.”

Then she forced herself to meet his eyes. Because her—bashful? Adric would split a gut laughing.

But Fane was unlike any man she’d ever known. He was older, cultured. As polished as that diamond in his earlobe. Hell, the man even dressed better than her.

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