Page 88 of Cooper

“Anyway, depending on what happens, if the conversation permits, ask her father about her dowry.”

“Herdowry?” I gape at him.

“I know. It seems counterintuitive and archaic. But it will show him that not only did you do some research into our traditions, you care enough about her to respect them. And no matter how much, or how little, he offers you, ask for a tiny bit more.”

“More?” I can’t wrap my head around the conversation we’re having. Women still have dowries?

“This is about her father and respecting his beliefs. By asking for a little more, you show him how much she’s worth to you.”

“She’s not a brood mare!” I protest.

“I know that.” He cuts a look at me. “That’s not what this is about. You know that. And she does too.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. So, if he offers me three goats, I ask for four?”

“You ask for one that’s already pregnant.”

We stare at each other.

“I’m just putting this out there now—if there are goats involved, I am not taking care of them!”

He nods solemnly. “Understood. We’ll figure something out.”

I don’t even know if I’m staying in Limaj, but now I’m thinking about Natalia’s dowry.

All I can do is laugh.

Fate is an ornery motherfucker.

* * *

The beatdownI give Pieter is tame compared to what I normally would want to do to a man who puts his hands on a woman.

Hiswife.

His pregnant wife, no less.

But Natalia said not to hurt him too badly, that it would cause problems in the family, so I keep it simple. The black eye and bloody lip are effective enough, and having Sandor standing there—all six feet seven inches of him—with his arms folded is pretty fucking daunting. Even to me. And I’m not scared of much.

Pieter is a slobbering mess when we’re done, but I don’t feel even a little bit bad. Fuck men who hit women. If you don’t love her, leave. If she cheated or spent the mortgage money shopping, leave or suggest counseling. Arguing is fine. Normal. But hitting her because you’ve had a bad day? Because you can?

Fuck that noise.

I don’t think Pieter will be putting his hands on her any time soon, but according to Natalia, she’s leaving him anyway.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

“I’ll leave you here,” Sandor says when we get back to the inn. “I’m going to break Marcus out of the hospital and head home. You and Natalia okay here? You’re not going to disappear like a thief in the night the minute I’m gone, are you?”

“Not today, no.”

He meets my gaze. “Trust us to help you. That’s what we do. If nothing else, trustme. I entrusted you with someone very important to me when I sent Natalia to you in Iraq. Give me the same respect by giving me a chance to take care of this.”

“I will. I appreciate everything you’ve done, both then and now. Believe me, I’m not doing anything until we know for sure I’m the target. I’m falling in love with her, but I’m trying to make thoughtful, rational decisions when it comes to her and to the Royal Protectors.”

He nods. “Then I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

I want to protest, tell him we might not be staying for the weekend, but I’m pretty sure Natalia wants to see her youngest sister, and now that at least two people know we’re here I might as well meet her parents.

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