Sonia felt her belly twist at the same time the pulse between her legs quickened.
With everyone frozen at the counter staring at him, Callum walked through with his natural, masculine grace. He came directly to Sonia and slid an arm around her shoulders, curling her front to his.
“Hey, baby doll,” he murmured when she tipped her head back and his eyes hit hers.
In harmony, Sonia heard Mabel and Kerry emit lustful sighs.
“What’s happening here?” Ryon asked.
Sonia began to look around Callum but his other hand came to her neck and he recaptured her attention with his thumb at her jaw, tilting her face back to his.
Then he bent his head and touched her lips.
The pulse strengthened between her legs as her belly dipped but her brain reminded her that this was all show.
Just a show.
“We’re having champagne to celebrate Callum and Sonia’s weekend elopement,” Regan replied and Sonia watched Callum’s eyebrows go up.
“We eloped?” he asked in a low voice only she could hear.
“Apparently,” Sonia whispered back.
He grinned.
Sonia stared at his mouth.
He started chuckling.
She mentally shook herself and pulled against his arm.
Callum allowed this but only so far as turning away from her front and tucking her into his side.
“Then Ryon and I are just in time,” Callum announced to the group.
Kerry and Mabel were staring at him with wide eyes.
Then Mabel breathed, “You’re not hot. You’re dreamy.”
Everyone chuckled except Sonia, Mabel and Kerry. Mabel and Kerry because they were still entranced with all that was Callum. Sonia because she didn’t think anything was humorous.
“Do you play basketball?” Kerry blurted.
“No,” Callum answered.
“You’re flipping tall,” Kerry blurted again.
“Yes,” Callum agreed with a thread of amusement in his deep voice.
Sonia had to do something about this. This could go on all day.
So she said, “Kerry, Mabel, quit drooling and meet my husband. Callum, these are my girls, Kerry and Mabel.” She indicated each in turn. “Girls, this is my new husband, Callum.” She gestured to Callum.
Callum’s fingers curled around her shoulder flexed almost convulsively and definitely fiercely each time Sonia said the word “husband”. Sonia thought that was a bit overkill considering no one but Sonia could feel his fingers on her shoulder.
“Ladies,” Callum greeted.
Mabel tore her eyes from Callum and looked at Sonia.
“I can see why you hid him, Sonny,” she observed. “I would hide him too. Good call, keeping him to yourself until you got the ball and chain on that leg.”
There was more laughter even though no one, but Sonia, knew the proverbial ball and chain was worn by the wife this time. Then they heard a champagne cork pop.
Everyone looked to Ryon who’d done the deed.
“Let’s stop talking and celebrate,” he declared on a boom.
“Yee ha!” Kerry shouted.
Plastic glasses were passed around, even to the five customers browsing the shop. When everyone (including the customers) had a glass and were gathered close, they all turned to Callum and Sonia.
“To the newlyweds!” Mabel cried, lifting her glass.
Everyone but Callum and Sonia followed suit and shouted in gleeful harmony, “To the newlyweds!”
Sonia wished she could disappear.
Instead, she smiled.
Callum, on the other hand, much better at playing his part in this travesty, took her chin in his fingers, gently tipped her head back and he kissed her.
It was soft and sweet but it was also long.
Long enough for laughter and catcalls to ring out and long enough for it to build from soft and sweet to something else. Something that required Callum to drop his fingers from her chin, slant his head and drag her into his arms.
She was regretfully in a daze when his mouth broke from hers and his head moved, his temple sliding against her hair.
His lips at her ear, he murmured, “To the newlyweds.”
Then his arms gave her an affectionate squeeze.
The hoots, laughter and giggles surrounding her penetrated her daze and Sonia closed her eyes against the pain in her heart.
Then in Callum’s ear, she whispered, “To the newlyweds.”
* * * * *
Sonia sat on her bed and massaged lotion into her feet, absently listening to the voices of Callum and his men downstairs.
She was running through her day in her mind in an effort to control the panic and, if she was honest (which she was not), the expectation of what the night might bring.
While the champagne celebration went on at Clear, Callum had explained that he’d arrived because he, too, was curious about her shop.
But also, he explained, because he disliked being parted from her.
She’d been gone less than an hour and he claimed he disliked being parted from her.
Really.
He said this after he’d firmly detached them from the group in a way that appeared he wished for them to have a moment to their newlywed selves. They were far enough away so no one could overhear which meant, to Sonia’s way of thinking, without an audience, he said it with no purpose at all.
But he said it like he meant it.
Maybe, she thought, he was trying to convince himself.
Or maybe her.
Or maybe both of them.
She’d struggled with how to respond then she decided to give him a hug.
This worked. His arms closed around her and he gave her another affectionate squeeze. She made a point to remember that for future reference.
He and Ryon stayed for a while then Ryon gave Callum a look, Callum sighed with resignation, touched his mouth to Sonia’s and they left.
Shortly after, to Sonia’s surprise, Waring arrived at Clear on the errand of loading up Regan’s four bags of purchases even though Sonia lived four blocks away (and Regan and she had walked) and nothing in the bags was that heavy.
Instead of packing up the bags and whisking them away for his dowager queen, he’d had a glass of champagne, managed cheekily to chat up both the enchanted Mabel and Kerry (who were staring at him with an amazement that was almost, but not quite, how they gazed at Callum) then he loaded up Regan’s bags and took them away.
That was when Sonia realized that she’d suddenly acquired a number of new names on her Christmas Gift List and asked Regan if they could go to the mall. Regan’s eyes lit, she instantly pulled her cell out of her big leather designer bag, hit some buttons and said into the phone, “Caleb, Sonia and I need a ride to the mall.”
Why Caleb needed this information, Sonia didn’t know.
It became clear ten minutes later when a shiny SUV pulled up outside Clear. Another man who was obviously one of Callum’s people collected them (to Mabel and Kerry’s delight as he, too, was enormously good-looking). His name was Nikolas. He seemed a bit (but not much) older than Waring but he was far more serious and thus didn’t spend any time drinking champagne or chatting up Mabel or Kerry, much to their obvious dismay.
He took them to the mall where, with Regan’s guidance, Sonia bought Caleb, Calder and Ryon Christmas presents and where she and Regan had a late lunch. This included a lovely, getting-to-know-you-better conversation that, luckily, didn’t include Regan asking about Sonia’s claiming. But, unfortunately, didn’t include Sonia having enough courage to ask Regan about Diana’s open curiosity about the same. Then he took them to the grocery store where Regan bought Sonia and Callum a mountain of very unhealthy food. Then he took them back to Sonia’s house.
When Sonia alighted from the SUV and walked to the back of the vehicle to grab some bags, she heard Regan call her name.
She looked at her mother-in-law who was gazing at Sonia, perplexed.
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“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Regan asked.
Sonia, having the handles of two grocery bags in her hand, looked at Regan then at Nikolas then at Regan again.
“What do you mean?” she asked in return for it was readily apparent what she was doing.
Before she knew it, Nikolas had silently rid her of her bags and Regan came forward, tucking her arm through Sonia’s and guiding Sonia toward the house.
Regan’s head got close and she whispered, “Sweetie, you’re queen. In company, queens don’t carry bags.”
At Sonia’s horrified expression, Regan smiled an understanding smile and tugged her closer with a pull on her arm.
“It’s been so very long, I forgot how strange it all was after I’d been claimed. Mac had only been a prince then but still, the life he claimed me into was very different to the simple life I’d lived,” Regan remarked and patted Sonia’s arm with her other hand. “But, I promise, you’ll get used to it like I did.”
Sonia wasn’t sure she would and as the late afternoon wore into the evening she was certain of it.
This was because, when they arrived in the house, she found that Saint, Magnum, Caleb, Ryon and Callum had been joined by Julianna, Saint’s mate. Julianna was a lovely woman with a bright smile and a quiet but friendly manner. She was smaller than most of Callum’s people but still slightly taller than Sonia.
After Sonia met Julianna, while Nikolas carried in all their purchases, Callum claimed her, situating her in his lap and taking a moment to ask about her day.
While he did this, and she answered his quiet questions, Julianna put the groceries away in Sonia’s kitchen.
Listening to Julianna move around in her kitchen, Sonia noticed Regan settle herself with a book on one of the couches in the living room while Nikolas built a fire.
And something about all of this didn’t sit quite right with Sonia.
“Um…” she started and turned her eyes to Callum, “maybe I should help Julianna.”
Callum’s brows went up then his smile grew wide.
Then he said something that caused her temper to rise and her palms to itch.
“Baby doll, when no one’s around, your job is to take care of me.” She stared at him (as this was the point where her temper started rising and her palms started itching) and he continued, “But when someone’s around, their job is to take care of us.”
Seriously?
He might be king but…
Seriously?
He continued, “Saint called Julianna here to do that. It’s her duty. She’d be offended if you went in and helped.”
Sonia decided to keep on the subject she wanted to discuss.
“My job is to take care of you?”
He grinned. “I thought I explained that.”
He had.
He had just not done it thoroughly.
“How, precisely and in all the varied forms, am I required to do that?”
His grin turned positively wolfish.
“I’m guessing you understand the most important part.”
“Indeed,” she rejoined with irritation and he chuckled before continuing.
“The other parts include you cooking for me, caring for our home, our clothes, if there’s no one around to do it. Understanding my schedule and providing for it, Making certain I have what I need or want available to me so when –”
“So,” she broke in, “in other words, I’m to be your little wife?”
His best answer to that question was “no”.
Instead, being Callum, his eyes, for some reason beginning to change to golden, he replied, “Yes.”
“Did your people skip past the twentieth century?” Sonia enquired with sarcasm.
The gold obliterated the blue not, she sensed, due to anger but, she instinctively knew, with something else. Something that made that ever-present throb between her legs deepen and his face dipped close. “Baby doll, I’d really like to give you the opportunity to work out your anger right now but, regrettably, I’ve got things to do.”
She stared then glared then asked, “What does that mean?”
She asked it, but she really didn’t want to know.
However, he told her.
His face dipped even closer, veering to the left at the last minute, he said in her ear, “That means, you want rough play and I want to give it to you. But I’ll have to give it to you later.”
She wanted rough play? What on earth was he talking about?
She didn’t have the chance to ask, not that she wanted the answer to that question either.
Giving her a “we’re done talking about this” squeeze, Callum dismissed her, turned his attention to the copious papers and files on her dining room table and the laptop pointed in his direction.
Regardless of his inattention to her, he still kept Sonia pinned to his lap.
And he did this for a good long while.
He did this while they ate dinner. A dinner which Julianna cooked in Sonia’s kitchen and served in Sonia’s dining room on Sonia’s plates, using Sonia’s cutlery and glasses and cleaned up after, again in Sonia’s kitchen.
And he did this while the men talked, not only about the rebellion, the intelligence they were currently in the process of gathering and the strategy they were forming to quell it but about all things kingdom. What was happening in other regions. Saint’s takeover and eventual clean up of the Western Territories. Invitations to official ceremonies and which ones Callum would take (none of them) and who would go in his stead (mostly Regan but also, surprisingly, once the rebellion was crushed, Ryon).
It was, she hated to admit, fascinating, this whole secret world that was obviously thriving but completely unknown amongst her world.
What was more fascinating was Callum’s intense interest in all of it. Sonia had the sense that he didn’t rule with a heavy hand but he certainly liked to have his finger on the pulse of absolutely everything. He was interested in what his people were doing, making sure that they were living peaceful, prosperous lives and he took his role as their leader very seriously.
Callum interrupted the proceedings only once, to guide Sonia upstairs with his hand firm in hers in order to take her to the bathroom to administer her injection. And this he did with now practiced ease, quickly but, as usual, she emerged from the burn snug in the circle of his arms and, if Sonia still had her scales, this would definitely be on the good side.
Regan left with a hearty good-bye and warm smile to Sonia.
Julianna who had, when she was not serving them, to Sonia’s disgust, sat completely quiet in Saint’s lap, left with Saint on a quiet farewell and a shy smile at Sonia.
The night wore on, Sonia sitting in Callum’s lap, Callum seeming not to know she was there but doing things intermittently and unconsciously that made that damnable throb ache. Like fiddling with the charm on her claiming chain or occasionally drawing lazy circles with the tips of his long fingers at her hip.
Finally, when another man arrived (his name was Bodim), carrying large, scrolled up pieces of papers which, she saw when he spread them out on her table, were maps of the Western Territories with lots of markings on them, Callum’s attention turned back to her.
Mouth again at her ear and voice lowered, he ordered, “Go to bed, little one.”
His ordering her to go to bed, she thought, was bad.
Escape, she knew, was good.
She instantly made a move to slip off his lap but his hand tightened, stalling her progress.
His voice a barely audible murmur, he went on to command, “Don’t wear anything to bed. I want you naked when I join you.”
She pressed her lips together, ignored the pulse that shot from the juncture of her legs straight to her nipples and met the sexy serious look in his eyes (or seriously sexy look, she still didn’t know which).
Without a word, Sonia slid from his lap and called her goodnights then she went upstairs and did exactly what she wanted to do.
Thi
s was investigating her catalogues and trawling the internet to find Regan’s gift. She couldn’t buy Regan a gift with Regan actually there, but she needed to buy Regan a gift. It was, indeed, Christmas and Regan was her mother-in-law.
She got distracted while online shopping for Regan and swerved down the road of shopping for Callum. She told herself this was because it was her queenly duty to buy her king Christmas gifts. But it really wasn’t. He looked good in clothes and she found she enjoyed buying them for him. So much so, she searched for evidence of his size (and found his clothes hung in her closet, his toiletries put tidily away in her bathroom and noted Julianna had been busy) and in the end maybe went a bit overboard.
She eventually finished buying presents for all the new entries on her Christmas List, even Julianna and Diana, both of whom she found she liked tremendously, though she couldn’t quite say why. She wrapped the ones she purchased for Callum’s family that day and headed to bed.
She put on her nightgown and left on her panties, defying Callum’s order to be naked. Firstly, because she didn’t like sleeping naked, though she didn’t mind it last night. Then again, she slept the sleep of abandoned contentment. Secondly, because she may be his queen and her duties may be extensive but he gosh darn couldn’t tell her what to wear, especially not to bed. No, strike that, he couldn’t tell her what to wear anytime.
She finished lotioning and oiling her face, feet, hands and cuticles. And, with the hum of deep, male voices plotting in her dining room (something Sonia vaguely recognized that was tremendously weird but she had had a lot of weird recently and now it didn’t even penetrate), Sonia switched off her light. She cuddled her stuffed wolf and stared at her tree.
And she came to the realization, as the hum of voices and the twinkling of the lights lulled away her panic (and expectation), that she’d drifted through her thirty-seven years of life in a fog.
Losing her parents so young, knowing in an integral way she was more than a little bit strange and, if people knew the things she could do, they might even fear her, Sonia had never thought to dream.
Considering she had to hide her gifts from everyone, she never fantasized about who her husband would be, what their life would be like, how many children she’d have, because how would she go about living that kind of lie?