Page 26 of Made
“What is it?” I asked.
“Kagan,” she said simply. “You need to go. He’s on his way here.”
“On his way? So, you made up?” She shook her head. “What then?”
“He just called and said he was coming. He sounded… forceful? We can talk later. You’ve got to go.”
“Forceful? That’s why you’re literally breathless? I see.” I didn’t “see” at all, but that was neither here nor there. There were some males who couldn’t be trusted with the description “forceful”. But Kagan would never assert his power to get his way or be violent with anyone who didn’t have it coming. So, I wasn’t worried by that portrayal. “Well, I’ll just…” I turned to go thinking I’d come back later, but Kagan arrived before I could manage either my exit or the rest of my sentence.
Did he look “forceful”? Perhaps. He certainly looked determined. And he was almost hidden behind the biggest bouquet I’d ever seen. I controlled my features and refused to smile knowing how sensitive he was about such things.
“Kagan,” I said. “Hi. I was just on my way out.” He said nothing. After all, he hadn’t come to see me. “Okay. Bye then.”
I went straight to Keir’s den. “I saw Kagan at Esme’s.”
He glanced up from his betting spreadsheets. “Is there more?”
“Yes. She looked like walking afterglow, and he was carrying a truckload of flowers in his arms.”
“Huh.” He turned back to his monitors.
“I know what you’re thinking. Truckload is a little bit of exaggeration. But there were a lot.”
“Hmm.” He’d returned to the serious business of betting and didn’t look up.
“Do you know anything about this?”
“I might.”
“Spill.”
He smiled while remaining focused on the center monitor on his desk, one of three. “What’s in it for me?”
“Don’t be a wanker. As my lawful husband, you’re obliged to share gossip on demand.”
“I don’t remember making that vow.”
“You were drinking. I remember it. Clearly.”
“Can you prove that I promised that?”
“I don’t have to. You will tell me what I want to know.”
“I will?”
“Yes.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Because I know you have extra nerve endings where your hair meets your temples, and you really don’t like me pulling in that particular spot. Hard.”
He sat back and faced me then laughed. “You’re threatening me with violence?”
“Why is that funny?”
“Because I wasmadeto intimidate. And I mean that literally. Not the mistaken way most people use the word now, but the real ‘literally’.”
“Uh-huh. And yet, I’m not the least intimidated.” I advanced, hands curled into hair-pulling claws.
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