But Rule’s theory made the mate bond seem almost sentient, like some sort of psychic snake—now tightening its coils around the two of them, now loosening them. Most of all, it irritated Lily that she didn’t know. There were entirely too many mysteries about this bond.
Maybe she’d find out soon. She had an appointment in three days to talk to the Nokolai Rhej—Rhej being a position or title. Rule said the woman was sort of a combination of priestess, historian, and bard. Now that Lily was clan, she was supposed to get filled in on some of the history.
She hoped this Rhej person had some answers. She had a lot of questions.
As if the shifting sea of couples hid some arcane lode-stone, her gaze was drawn to one spot, near the curving wall of windows.
Rule was there.
She couldn’t see him. Lily had inherited her father’s lack of inches, and there were too many people between them. But she didn’t have to see him to know precisely where he was. She always did, if he was close enough… within one hundred twenty-nine feet, to be exact. The effect became imprecise after that. Last week she’d made him test it.
That’s how it was now, anyway. Three weeks ago she’d been unable to be that far away—literally unable. She’d nearly passed out when she put too much distance between them. Rule claimed that was normal for a newly mated pair.
He had some weird ideas of normal. But the bond had relaxed, just as he’d said it would. She wasn’t sure how far their tether would stretch now, but she meant to find out. Soon.
The music ended, and some of the couples started to leave the floor. In the gap that opened up, Lily saw the man who’d recently moved into the center of her life. Or, according to Rule, had been shoved there by his Lady.
He’d been dancing with someone Lily didn’t know. A member of the groom’s family, probably, as the woman looked Chinese. She was about Lily’s age, with very short hair and a sleek blue dress that set off her figure admirably.
Not a puke-green bridesmaid’s dress. Lily grimaced. The mate bond made it impossible for Rule to stray, but his thoughts could still wander, couldn’t they?
The woman’s hand rested on Rule’s arm. She was smiling in a way that was becoming all too familiar. Lily wondered if she looked like that, too, when Rule’s head bent toward her the way he inclined it now, listening to his dance partner.
It was an elegant head. Its dark hair was too long for fashion, but it suited him. His face was narrow, the skin taut over cheeks that might have been sculpted by the wind. The angle of those cheekbones was mirrored by the dark slashes of his eyebrows.
He wore black, of course. He always wore black. The expensive suit covered a body that never failed to fascinate her. It seemed somehow more focused than other bodies. Watching him now, she had the fanciful thought that he attended to the world with all of him—listening with thighs and biceps as well as ears, observing with scalp and eyes and nape, with the soles of his feet and the backs of his knees.
The backs of his knees… she knew how his skin tasted there.
His head turned, and their eyes met.
Oh. She put a hand on her stomach. That didn’t usually happen, not since the first time. But every once in a while she got this little jolt when their eyes met. Like being stroked by a feather, she thought. Startling because she felt it in a place she had no name for. A place she hadn’t known could be touched.
Why did it hit sometimes and not others? She grimaced. Mate bond mystery number three hundred seventy-six.
As if he’d read her mind, the corner of his mouth kicked up. Those rakish eyebrows lifted, asking a question. She made herself smile back and shook her head: No, I don’t need you right now. I’m fine.
“Not like that, dummy,” a voice said at her elbow. “Like this.”
Lily turned. Beth was making kissy faces at Rule.
Rule grinned and blew Lily’s little sister a kiss.
“See?” Beth turned to her. “You have a hunk like that hanging around, you don’t scowl him away.”
“That was a smile, not a scowl. This is a scowl.”
Beth studied her. “By golly, you’re right. The difference isn’t as obvious as it ought to be, though. What’s wrong?”
“It’s such a pleasure to be asked that by someone I can tell to mind her own business.”
“The rellies been giving you a hard time? Rhetorical question,” she added, hooking an arm through Lily’s. “Of course they are. You’ve confounded everyone’s expectations again. C’mon. Let’s see if there’s anywhere to hide on the patio.”
It was either go with Beth or be tugged wholly off balance. Lily went. “Grandmother’s holding court out there.”
“Right. The buffet, then,” she said, shifting course. “I’m pretty sure I could cram in more chocolate.”
“You think it’s a good idea for the two of us to stand next to the food? Some people have weak stomachs.”
Beth glanced down at her bridesmaid’s dress, a match for Lily’s. “And to think I always believed Susan liked me. It’s not as if she needed help to outshine me. She’s done that all my life.”
“Maybe she’s turned color-blind.” Lily’s shoulder had progressed from stiff to aching. She could use it as an excuse to leave, she supposed, but her mother and the aunts might start bringing her food again. And stay to tell her all the things she should be doing differently… again.
“That doesn’t explain Mother,” Beth said darkly.
“There is no explanation for Mother. I thought you knew that.” Lily reminded herself that she didn’t really need to have her arm free. She wouldn’t need to draw on anyone at her big sister’s wedding. Odds were slim for even a fist fight.
But it was a relief when they reached the buffet and Beth let go to zero in on the sweets. “No chocolate cookies left,” she said sadly and reached for a cookie shaped like a pair of wedding bells. “How long did it take Freddie to pop the question this time?”
“He’s stopped proposing. He just talks about our marriage as if I’ve already agreed. You could have rescued me.”
“I hate to interrupt a tender moment. Speaking of which, why are you avoiding Rule?”
“You can be intensely annoying, you know that?”
Beth nodded and downed the other half of the cookie. “You don’t want to talk about your relationship with Tall, Dark, and Occasionally Furry. I get that. And I understand why you haven’t said much about him to Mother. Who would? But you’ve clammed up with me, too.”
Lily heard the hurt beneath the banter and gave up. “We had an argument, all right? Nothing major. I’m just not all that pleased with him at the moment.”
Beth gave her a worried glance.
“Not about other women,” Lily said impatiently. “If that was the problem, I wouldn’t call it a minor argument, would I? And I wouldn’t be making smiley faces at him.”
“Right.” Beth was relieved. “Of course you wouldn’t. Though I don’t understand why you—all right, all right, don’t get huffy. Hey, there’s some chocolate sauce left! Pass me one of those strawberries.”
Lily knew what Beth was thinking, and why. And maybe she ought to give her sister a better explanation than she had so far… but not now.
“So, you going to tell me what you two argued about?”
“No. Are you still dating the octopus?”
“If you mean Bill, he’s so last week. At least tell me if Rule is as incredible in bed as he looks like he would be.”
A grin stole out. “Better.”
Beth dipped her strawberry in chocolate while she thought that over, then shook her head. “Not possible, but trying to imagine it is exciting. Did you get those dark circles beneath your eyes because you keep skipping sleep in favor of hot monkey sex, then? Or is your shoulder keeping you awake? Or is something else going on?”