Page 7 of The Marriage Bargain

A shadow crept up behind me, and I froze, one arm full of books while the other busily gathered up scraps of paper before my niece could devour them. To my everlasting shock, Caide, the Asterion Overlord, knelt next to me, reaching for the pile of books perched precariously in the crook of my arm.

“Here,” he offered, gently sliding them away. “I will place them on the shelves so you can attend to the children.”

I can’t lie. I felt myself blink owlishly behind my glasses. My mouth gaped, my head turning as he leaned forward to slide the books back onto the shelves, one by one.

“Aunt Delle?”

Dereen’s voice startled me and I jumped, swearing silently, furious at myself for gawking at the alien Overlord like a smitten teenager.

“Coming,” I said, rising. I scooped up my youngest niece and scurried into the kitchen before I made a bigger fool of myself. Behind me, though, I could still hear the gentle thumps of books being slid back into place, as the alien man who was so far above me in both rank and position, silently worked to help me care for my sister’s children.

Which is how the next few hours went.

He didn’t talk very much. To be fair, to be completely fair, he tried. More than once, he directed a question at me. Not deep, probing questions, as if he outranked me so far that he had a right to know anything and everything about me, but gentle inquiries, like he was curious about me as a person. How long I had worked at my job. If I liked it. School. How difficult it must be to constantly look after the children.

I’d snorted at the one question. For a few minutes, the girls were occupied and it was quiet in the house. I’d moved into the kitchen to clean up and wash the dishes. Caide had stepped up next to me, offering to help, but I’d shied backward so fast he’d retreated with hands raised, like someone would when startling a wild animal. Rather than invade my space again, he went to the corner and fetched the broom to begin sweeping in methodical strokes. That was when he’d inquired about my job. I was nervous to turn my back on him, but forced myself to stand there at the sink and pretend to be interested in washing dishes, when every fiber of my being was unwillingly focused on the beautiful creature behind me.

“Sure,” I snorted, scrubbing at a spot on the dinner plate a little more aggressively than was needed. “Sure. I love my job. Who wouldn’t? It’s every girl’s dream to deal with kids all day then go spend hours every evening washing dishes at a crowded, smoky eatery. Yeah. Livin’ the dream.”

The sounds of the broom straws scratching the tile floor paused.

“You do not sound as if that is your dream.”

I rolled my eyes, grateful that he couldn’t see. Sometimes I forgot that aliens tended to misunderstand sarcasm. They were so straightforward that sarcasm went right over their heads.

“It isn’t,” I said bluntly. “it’s the farthest thing from my dream. But working at the eatery allows me to earn money. Living here allows me to save money.”

I placed another plate in the drying rack next to the sink. The sounds of sweeping resumed.

“Save money towards what, may I ask?”

I bit my lip to stop from snapping, “No, you may not!” But he was an Overlord.

An Overlord. Why so many questions? We weren’t friends. We weren’t going to be friends. After tonight, he’d go home to the Citadel and I would carry on with my life here. Doubtful our paths would ever cross again, unless Zyn decided to do something dumb like bring his alien boss back home for dinner. I still couldn’t fathom in what universe my brother-in-law had decided that was a good idea.

“I’m saving to go to school,” I admitted gruffly.

“What sort of school?”

I hesitated, before admitting, “Architectural. I want to be an architect.”

The sweeping stopped momentarily. Silence lapsed, broken by the gentle splashes of water in the sink as dishes were baptized to be scrubbed. I didn’t dare turn around, but I wondered if he were laughing quietly. Or even smirking. Everyone knew human women rarely, if ever, became things like architects anymore. Was he mocking me, literally behind my back? I didn’t have the guts to turn and see. My spine felt stiff until I heard him say,

“Interesting.”

That was it. A non-committal reply, one that I couldn’t interpret, try as I might.

Interesting? Interesting in what way? That a stupid human female would have such outlandish dreams? Interesting that a human female would aspire to be an architect at all? What did he mean by interesting?

And why did I care?

I don’t, I told myself flatly, placing the last dinner plate soundly in the drying rack and slipping my hands under the sudsy water to pull the plug from the sink.

But that wasn’t entirely true. I did.

CHAPTER 6

CAIDE

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