Page 51 of Warrior's Captive
“Sure. But he’s not my man, so I can’t comment too hard on that.” She grinned at Vivian, who smiled wryly.
Daobah sighed. “Ugh, humans. It’s important.” Her gaze flicked down to Vivian’s lower arms, and only then did she shut her mouth.
Hmm.
Shira leaned forward a little and reached out to grab Vivian’s arm. Vivian let her push up her sleeve and star at the tattoos. “Yeah, about these. Do they have any feeling? I’ve seen them move on other Yadeshi.”
“Some of the time they do,” Vivian said, eyeing Shira’s mark free arm. Hmm . . .
Shira tilted her head. “You know, I took a tour of a YETI base once. Few years ago, I wanted to see what the deal was. I saw two human girls with marks like these. They’d never tell us what it meant, just that they were for the women who’d married a warrior.”
They looked at Tai’ri’s sister.
“It’s not really that simple,” Daobah said, looking uncomfortable, “but I guess if that’s the story they give you all, I shouldn’t contradict it.”
Vivian watched the expressions play across the girl’s face speculatively. Tai’ri still hadn’t managed to get his console fixed and now Vivian was having suspicions. Why wouldn’t he want her to access the datasphere?
She suspected it was something to do with these supposedly medical only markings. Markings which most every Yadeshi person she’d seen possessed.
Markings which lately, the more she allowed herself to relax in Tai’ri’s presence . . . stirred. Yesterday, experimenting, Vivian had deliberately meditated and forced herself to think warm, positive thoughts about Tai’ri. Forced being a strong term because as soon as she gently banished her fears, anxieties, and dark memories, her mood turned to the present tense and . . . Tai’ri was there. Cooking, helping her learn the house tech, handing her nutritional smoothies and gently haranguing her into drinking water.
Bringing her skeins of colored fibers and boxes of beads and semi-precious stones. Even blue and purple clays and what passed as a kiln.
After a time, she found that she did not have to force herself to think of him warmly. He was kind, thoughtful. He hovered, but that was to be expected in the circumstances. He was a thoughtful, insightful conversationalist who knew the value of silence. Talking to him was easy.
He made her remember that once she had daydreamed about love and old-world marriage and two children rather than the more practical one.
It was time to talk with Tai’ri. About the marks, about the future. About her growing feelings and sense of permanency. And whether his obvious attraction to her was just a product of circumstance or if he wanted something more, long term.
As soon as he came home tonight, they would talk.
* * *
“House, where is Tai’ri?” Vivian asked as she entered the house. Banujani set her purchases down on the kitchen island, then stepped out onto the balcony. Vivian briefly wondered if the guard was going to leap over the railing or climb up a wall.
:Tai’ri is in the first guest suite.:
“Viv,” Tai’ri called, and she followed the sound of his voice, stopping at the threshold of the room.
His eyes lit up and he stood. “Daobah said you bought things.”
She looked around the once simply but elegantly furnished room, which was now a riot of color, patterns and . . . stuff. Three different styles of rocking chairs, one only half assembled. A sensory play corner, and a bed suitable for a small child. Plus swatches of color on the walls, and newly installed floating shelves lined with toys.
“So did you.”
When he’d told her goodnight the previous evening, he’d been all in black. Streamlined trousers, long-sleeved shirt, his hair pulled back. Now he was back to his loose pants stuffed into scuffed boots—she cringed at footwear in the house, but perhaps he’d just gotten in—and a short sleeved neutral shirt, his hair a mess around his face and the bracelets tinkling around his wrists.
“It’s just some options. I know you’re busy, didn’t think it was fair to make you do all the shopping.” He stepped over a pile of stuff and pressed the wall; a hygiene station slid out. Waist high bathing sink with all the bells and whistles. “Bey said one of these stations is better for a little one than the adult sized bathroom.”
“It’s very nice.”
He looked pleased, the kind of expression she imagined men boasted millennia ago when bringing home a fresh kill for supper. She studied him, trying to look at him through the eyes of a woman interested in . . . romance. Deep soul searching had assured her that despite her time in the pens, her desire for love and sex wasn’t gone. Or rather, it was beginning to stir again as time and normalcy created a buffer between her and the past.
“I didn’t buy any clothing,” he said quietly, studying her return. “Baba said that’s female shopping only.”
“Daobah gravitates towards clothing more suitable for a photo op than midnight feedings and mess.” Her heart fluttered; he held her gaze and she couldn’t quite look away. She fought to keep her voice even. “I didn’t buy anything—I thought you and I could go.”
But she hadn’t, not until now. Watching the warm smile cross his face was worth the small lie.
