Fate War: Alliance (11 page)

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Authors: E.M. Havens

BOOK: Fate War: Alliance
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How did Cole make bathing such a pleasurable experience? Samantha thought back to the first bath he made her. It was a little hazy now. Actually, it was a lot hazy, and she was pretty sure it had to do with the tea he made her drink. A small crease of tension crept into her brow at the thought, but Cole’s bath permeated and obliterated it. How did he do this?

She slipped completely beneath the lustrous water soaking her hair and face, sputtering slightly as she surfaced. Working the expensive shampoo she received as a wedding gift into her hair, she tried to make sense of the night’s events. After Cole ordered her to eat the entire dish of chocolate, he had drawn her a bath and ordered her to relax, wash her hair and remove her make up. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed the mousse, and she was definitely enjoying the bath, but he made everything so difficult.

This was supposed to be easy. There were rules, protocol, etiquette. All she had to do was stick with those, and everything would fall in place. At first she thought Cole was testing her, but now she was beginning to think he had no regard for the rules. Sure, he had a reputation for being a bit of a nonconformist, but he had her completely unhinged. He even slept in the other room. Although she was glad he was, it totally defeated the purpose of the Binding Time. She would never conceive at this rate. She quickly dunked her head to clear her hair of soap and her mind of that particular thought.

Samantha reluctantly left the now tepid bath and dried off. She realized she hadn’t brought a nightgown into the washroom and froze. Cole was probably still in the bedroom. She should just wrap the towel around her, and go get one. He was her husband, and it shouldn’t be a problem. She was going to do it, just walk into the bedroom with nothing but a towel on. Open the door and walk right in. A knock on the washroom door interrupted her unproductive self-encouragement.

“Um…yes?” she stammered.

The door cracked open and she anxiously gathered the towel around her tighter. A very masculine hand appeared through the crack holding a bundle of clothing.

“Put these on.”

She could hear the veiled humor in Cole’s order. At least he was having fun. She snatched the clothes, and he shut the door. Unfolding them, she recognized his white loose long sleeved undershirt and brown wool underpants. They were the same clothes she woke up in the first day after their wedding. They were completely inappropriate, but he had ordered her, so she must comply. She bit her lips to suppress a smile and a secret. These were the most comfortable clothes she had worn in a very long time.

Fully dressed in her husband’s clothes, Samantha still felt naked. Her hair was undone and still not dry, her face devoid of make-up. She opened the washroom door and stepped tentatively into the bedroom. Cole looked up from a book he was reading at the desk by the washroom door. He sat back in his chair inspecting her. The stone floor was cool on her bare feet, but heat began to consume her from her toes to her cheeks in wake of his stare. If possible, she could see the rosy glow emanating from her face. No one had ever stared at her that way before. There was something like hunger in those sea green eyes, and he looked at her like she was, well, a chocolate mousse.

She nervously tucked wet strands of hair behind her ears, then fidgeted with her too long sleeves. Cole’s intense scrutiny lingered and Samantha shifted her weight from foot to foot. Though disquieting, the way he looked at her somehow made her feel feminine and desirable. In these clothes and in this state she should feel the exact opposite and so should he, but his eyes said different.

“Get in the bed.”

All pleasant thoughts fled, and she obeyed. Trying to think only of putting one foot in front of the other and then pulling back the covers, she ignored the seed of panic the command had planted. Still, as she climbed into the bed, she pulled the covers to her chin as if they were a fortress wall that would protect her.

Cole stood from the desk chair and sauntered to the bed never taking his eyes from her. His smug grin incited the gears in her stomach to grind. He stood at the edge of the bed rocking back and forth on his heels and looking down at her. She stared across the room trying to ignore his closeness and the rich smell of herbs invading her senses. A sudden movement from him caught her eye, and something heavy thudded into her lap. She couldn’t quite stifle the squeak of surprise.

“Finish reading it,” Cole ordered.

Samantha read the title of the large leather bound volume he had thrown to her.
Walton’s New Atomic Theory.
Her mouth went dry, and her heart decided to try a new rhythm. This was a test. It had to be. But was it a test of etiquette or obedience?

“I,” she hesitated, not taking her eyes from the tome. “I can’t.”

“Okay, if you insist on doing things the hard way.” He crossed his arms and said in his most serious voice, “I order you to finish reading it.”

“But –”

“No buts.”

“But –”

“Samantha, I order you.”

“But, I already finished it!”

He dropped his hands to his sides, and Samantha chanced a look. She thought he would be angry, but he actually seemed confused.

“Samantha, I’ve been trying to read this book for over a month,” he said patronizingly. “You’re telling me you read it in less than a week? Do you even understand it?”

“Yes,” she said meekly.

He scooped up the book and flipped through the pages.

“Okay. What does the word atom mean?”

“It’s from the ancient word
atomos
meaning indivisible.”

“Alright. What is the law of conservation of mass?”

“The total mass of a chemical reaction remains constant.”

“And what does that mean?”

“That means that the mass of the reactants will be equal to the mass of the products. For example if you had continued with the experiment this afternoon the mass of hydrogen gas and potassium hydroxide produced would have been equal to the mass of the water and potassium you began with…If you had lived to take the readings.”

She bit her lip and cringed. She had not meant to say that, any of it. Cole dropped the book on the nightstand and left the room. She was wrong. It had been a test of etiquette, not obedience, and she failed. She wondered what he would do. Divorce? Surely not, for the sake of the alliance. Send her back to the school for more training? He would probably just lock her away as to not be an embarrassment, never to be spoken of again. Another thud in her lap jolted her out of planning her unavoidable disappearance from the public eye.

“Read this then.” She scanned the title. It was one of his books on plant biology.

“Again?” She tried not to sound disappointed, but she hadn’t really enjoyed it the first time.

“You’ve read this book before?”

“Last week.”

“What?” He sputtered then retrieved the desk chair and sat next to her facing the bed. “Look at me.” She obeyed. All his playfulness was gone. Everything in his posture indicated that. She wanted to pull the covers up higher and hide in their protective walls. “Samantha, both of these books are over a thousand pages of the most technical information I’ve ever read. You’re telling me that you read these two books in seven days and comprehended them?”

“I –”she couldn’t decide what to tell him. The truth would seal her fate. “I –”

“I order you to tell me the truth.” It was the most gentle and compassionate order she had ever received from anyone. If there was anger or malice in those mesmerizing eyes, they hid it well. Some pleasurably painful feeling constricted her chest.

Trust. That was the name of the warm freeing thing growing inside her right now. She reviewed their past week together, and he had given her no reason not to. She would trust him. Taking a deep breath she answered, letting the words tumble out before she changed her mind.

“Technically I read them in seven
nights,
and I also read your books on animal biology, human physiology and modern mechanics.” She exhaled the rest of the breath and looked away. Cole sat frozen in the chair. She fidgeted nervously with a loose string on the sleeve of her shirt as the minutes stretched by. She willed him to say something. Anything.

The sound of wooden chair legs screeching on the stone floor alerted her to his movement. Here it came, whatever it was.

“I order you to stay in this bed until I return. I’ll see you in the morning.” The command was quiet and emotionless. He turned on his heel, went to the study and shut the door.

Samantha was left gaping at the empty chair and then the closed door.

“What have I done?” she whispered to the empty room. She’d ruined everything. Sneaking the books and reading them at night was too risky. She shouldn’t have done it. Rules. She should have followed the rules. All she had to do was follow the rules. She balled her fists and brought them down hard into the forgiving down bed covers. At least she didn’t have to worry about his physical advances tonight.

****

“What…the…SLAG!” Cole struggled to keep his voice down as he shut the study door behind him. Retreating to the study had been his only option. Samantha had so confused and delighted him he was afraid his reactions would frighten her. He still wasn’t completely sure what just happened or how he felt about it. Pacing the length of the study he ran both hands through his hair catching a few tangles. Even he thought he needed a haircut now. He needed to put together some of these pieces.

He was certain from her actions during the experiment that she was reading the atomic theory book. He hadn’t realized she read the entire thing and grasped at least as much as he did. She also read four others, some of the most challenging books in his collection. She definitely wasn’t unintelligent and had to be the fastest reader alive. That prompted another question. When does she sleep? She said she read at night, but she didn’t sleep during the day either.

Okay. Samantha was incredibly intelligent and quite adept at subterfuge. But why hide her intelligence? Even the aristocracy embraced intellectual women. Though few, female scientists, business owners, and scholars were being more accepted every day.

Cole thought again of more sinister possibilities, but threw them out just as quickly as before. No, she wasn’t acting. He was sure of it. She was genuinely terrified of stepping outside of her preconceived ideas of etiquette and ladyship.

Cole stopped his pacing and ran a hand through his hair again. He walked to the desk and dropped in the leather chair. He was missing something. Someone so intelligent would never behave as she did, act so against reason and logic. Uneasiness settled in Cole’s stomach. He drummed his fingers on the desk as his mind chased elusive and foreboding thoughts.

His eyes landed on the cross stitch Samantha abandoned after the failed experiment, and he ran a finger over the intricate work. Cole shook his head to clear it and smiled. It was so atrocious, but he leaned forward for a closer look. His eyes followed the angular lines of the gold and brown flowers. Streaks of rust and grey created elaborate patterns within the flowers and along the borders of the piece.

“Holy clinker.” He said in a slow whisper. Cole jumped up from his chair almost toppling it over. He ran to one of the many shelves in the room that housed his scientific instruments. He rummaged a bit, finally extracting a small box. Sitting back down in front of Samantha’s needlework, he opened it revealing a pair of goggles. He bought them on a whim years ago never really having found a use for them in his particular field of study. They looked like a regular pair of bronze goggles until he pushed up on the front of the frames. Several layers of lenses fanned out giving the impression of a strutting metallic peacock.

He put on the spectacles, then clicked the first lens into place. Cole studied the needle work, then clicked the next lens in place, then the third. When he clicked the fourth lens in place he let out an impressed whistle.

“Who are you, Princess Samantha of Perspicia?”

The little embellishments had finally come into focus with the magnifying goggles. The flowers, grass, and border of the cross stitch were adorned with equations. It looked as if Samantha was trying to combine components from the atomic theory book and those from the mechanics one. That was just his impression, but he could honestly say he did not understand anything he was looking at. His boring bride just became very, very interesting.

Cole removed the goggles and nestled them back in their box. He pinched the bridge of his nose trying to help his eyes refocus after using the magnifiers.

“Who are you?” The sentence ended in a yawn. Cole grimaced thinking of another night on the couch. He chuckled deep in his throat. When Samantha came out of the washroom, all sense had left him. She was stunning that way, natural, unadorned. He decided then that he was spending the night right there with her. He could have had her. She would have consented, and he would have made sure she enjoyed it. He was a generous lover. But things hadn’t exactly gone as planned. He was glad they hadn’t, because his desire had overridden the fact that she was still healing from their forced encounter. A few more weeks. That left him plenty of time to discover the real Samantha.

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