“As long as the cat is happy…” Marshall said drily.
She smothered a titter with her hand.
“Nice to see you two haven’t killed each other,” John said.
Amity looked at Marshall. “We had a…nice conversation.”
Chapter Four
While Amity changed into her nightclothes in the lavatory, Marshall stripped to his briefs, extinguished the light, and fumbled his way to the bed.
Dinner had been noncombative. Congenial, even. He’d surprised himself by opening up to her. He hadn’t intended to say so much—only to apologize. Once he’d recovered from the panic attack, he realized his abrupt departure must have given her the wrong impression. They had too many strikes against them to allow a misunderstanding to mushroom into a major incident. More introvert than extrovert, he’d never been much of a conversationalist, but he found her easy to talk to.
He hoped the détente would continue. He had no wish to revert to cold silences broken only by snide remarks delivered with a scowl.
The lav panel slid open, and Amity stood in the doorway. The nightgown covered her from neck to toe, leaving only head and feet bare, yet heat rolled through him.My wife.A wife in name only, but they’d be sharing a bed. She was an attractive woman, and, when she wasn’t sniping at him, pleasant company, too.
She shut the lav light off, plunging the cabin into darkness. “Marco!” she called out.
“Who?”
“You’re supposed to say, ‘Polo.’”
“Why?”
“So, I can find the bed. I can’t see.”
“Oh. Polo!”
He heard shuffling.
“Marco!” Her voice came from right beside the bed.
“Polo!” He scooted over so she could climb in.
“Of course, you never played Marco Polo.” She tugged the covers up to her chin.
“It’s a game played in the dark?” he guessed.She smells good.
“In a swimming pool. It’s a kids’ game. One child is blindfolded or keeps his eyes closed and tries to tag another player, finding him by sound.”
One of many games he hadn’t played, having been denied a childhood. “I’ve played poker.” Operatives played cards during downtime, ostensibly for recreation, but the game allowed them to practice masking emotions and controlling reactions. “I have a very good poker face.”
“I’ll bet you do! Remind me never to play cards with you,” she said.
“I’d let you win sometimes,” he offered magnanimously.
“Oh, you would, would you?” Her light, tinkling laugh caused his heart to ache and his groin to tighten. She was so close he could feel her body heat.
“Dinner was nice,” she said.
“It was,” he replied, unsure what she referred to. The food? Their conversation? He’d enjoyed dinner a lot more before Bragg and Faith had arrived.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For sharing your experience with me. And…for marrying me so I could get sanctuary. You sacrificed for me, and I wasn’t exactly grateful.”
