Page 36 of Over the Edge

They dutifully ate over the next hour as a parade of relatives came and went. Eventually, Anna begged off of meeting any more cousins, aunts or uncles until she and Trevor had a nap. In separate rooms, of course.

She also mentioned having left their luggage, and Hania quickly arranged for a pair of Anna’s male cousins to retrieve it. When Anna described the apothecary where they’d left the bags, Hania had recognized it immediately.

The servant who’d brought the food, a woman nearly as old as her grandmother, showed Trevor and her to side-by-side rooms on the second floor. There was no connecting door, of course. But her grandmother probably didn’t count on her to casually walk along the foot wide ledge outside her window to Trevor’s window. Anna stepped over the low sill to his room in time to see Trevor whirl toward her, hands up defensively.

“Jeez, Anna. You could give me a little warning you’re coming.”

“And alert the whole house that I’m sneaking into your room?” she retorted. “Not unless you want to find yourself at the business end of a shotgun and getting married in the next hour or so.”

“No thanks—“ He broke off, then said quickly, “Not that I would object to marrying you. Not that I’m offering…I mean, you’re fully marriageable material—“

“Just stop while you’re behind,” she interrupted, halting his stammered explanations.

He stepped forward, surprising her into stillness. He reached up and tucked a stray strand of her dark hair beneath her headscarf. “I know you hate the scarf, but it does look nice.”

She’d forgotten it was there. She reached up and swept it off her head, sending bobby pins flying. She started to bend down to chase after them, but Trevor’s hands caught her elbows and gently lifted her up so he could gaze searchingly at her.

She never got tired of staring into the bronze depths of his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked low.

“Define okay.”

“Are you glad to be here?” he asked.

“God, no. I swore I would never come back the last time I was here.”

“I’m sorry I got you into this,” he started.

“Don’t be. I volunteered. I knew what I was getting into.”

“I really do appreciate the help getting me here.”

She nodded reluctantly. “Glad to help.” And she darned well planned to continue helping him with the rest of the mission.

“Speaking of which, I told my grandmother we’re engaged.”

“To be married?” he squawked.

She winced. “It’s probably the only reason she agreed to let you sleep under the same roof with me. We’re going to have to pretend to be engaged, or else she’ll make you move out. And as much as you want to get rid of me, you still have supplies to buy and transportation to arrange, both of which I can help you with.”

He looked startled at her bald honesty. “Umm. Okay. Is there anything special I should know about being your fiancé?”

She risked making eye contact with him, expecting unholy humor to be dancing in his eyes behind that dry tone of voice. But thankfully, he seemed to be taking this seriously. She answered, “Minor displays of affection will be tolerated, and probably expected.”

He frowned a little. “Can I hold your hand? Like this?” He twined the fingers of his left hand through the fingers of her right hand.

“From time to time,” she murmured. His palm was as hot as the top of a stove against hers.

“Can I touch your shoulder like this?” His right hand came to rest on her shoulder, cupping it lightly and easing her toward him.

“Dangerous.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Forbidden.”

“I always have been drawn to forbidden things.”

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