Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz]

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Authors: Crystal Flame
short ones,
    just like yours. You are very gracious to invite me to join your friends, Arrisa."
    Arrisa chuckled. "It's going to be an amusing evening."

    The formal dining chamber of Quintel's magnificent house was done in subtly contrasting shades of tan
    and pale blue. Kalena had become accustomed to the strongly balanced hues used throughout the house.
    She was grateful for the softer shade of sand and sea used in this room. Normally she was fond of vivid
    colors, but these middle Spectrum tones were more soothing to her nerves tonight.
    To say the least, she found it somewhat stressful to sit down to dine with the man she had come to kill
    and the man to whom she was contracted in marriage.
    It had all seemed so distant and abstract back home in Interlock. The man called Quintel had been only
    a name, part of her aunt's endlessly repeated tales. Marriage to a stranger named Ridge had been only a
    means to an end. But for two nights she had shared a meal with both of these men, and her aunt's bitter
    stories had taken on the substance of reality. Kalena found herself abnormally quiet during the evening
    meal.
    The low, round table in the center of the softly colored chamber was inlaid with tiny, exotically colored
    tiles that formed a swirling, undefined pattern. Kalena had spent some time trying to analyze the meaning
    of the design and had failed. The restless chaos in the tilework would have been disconcerting but for the
    pale tones used. Kalena, Ridge and Quintel were seated on low cushions, their fingerspears resting on
    small carved stands in front of them. The men sat with traditional masculine casualness, their attire making
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    it easy for them to change position when the mood took them.
    Although Kalena was wearing one of her new, shorter tunics, she found herself too self-conscious to sit
    in any position other than the formal, kneeling, feminine style. Her trousered legs were gracefully curled
    beneath her and her back was elegantly straight. From this position she was expected to handle any
    service at the table that was not taken care of by the silent servant who brought in the various dishes.
    Pouring extra wine or dishing out second helpings was considered a female occupation. Good-naturedly,
    Kalena accepted the inevitable role of a woman at the evening table, telling herself it was only temporary.
    She wondered privately what Quintel and Ridge did when they had no female present. She would bet her
    last gran they were quite capable of serving themselves.
    Kalena was in the act of pouring Ridge another goblet of the golden Encana wine when he turned from
    his conversation with Quintel and spoke to her directly. "You made your purchases today?"
    "Yes," she responded politely, setting down the crystal wine bottle. "I bought everything you told me to
    get, including your shirts. I'll send them to your apartments later this evening."
    For some reason she decided not to mention that she had been overcome by an unexpected attack of a
    traditional sense of duty toward her future husband late this afternoon. Or perhaps it had been guilt.
    Kalena wasn't sure. She still didn't know why she had purchased the embroidery silk and needles when
    she had bought Ridge's shirts. Later, as she had sat sewing a small, discreet initial R onto the shirts before
    dinner, she had chastised herself for succumbing to such an old-fashioned gesture of feminine respect.
    But some aspects of one's early training ran deep, she had discovered with a small sense of amused
    resignation. Besides, she had seen enough of Ridge's clothing to know that no woman bothered to
    personalize his shirts with his initial. Considering the fact that he was a Houseless bastard, that was hardly
    surprising. Kalena told herself that Ridge was more or less an innocent pawn in the whole scheme of
    vengeance in which she was involved. The least she could do was embroider one

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