Read Online Crystal Flame by Jayne Ann Krentz - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz
Ads: Link
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 or two of his shirts for him.
Modestly, she lowered her eyes to the dish of hot, whipped columa berries in front of her. She had no wish to actively participate in the table conversation. But Ridge seemed determined to push her into the discussion.
"What about the wedding cloak? Did you find one?"
Her mouth started to lift in a private smile. Firmly Kalena stifled it. "Yes, Ridge. I found one."
Casually, Quintel asked the next question. "What did you select, Kalena?"
She looked up, meeting Ridge's gaze. "Red," she stated boldly. "A most interesting shade of scarlet."
Quintel laughed in genuine amusement, raising his goblet in mock salute to Ridge whose expression was wry. "Very good. The lady has issued a challenge, Fire Whip. It would seem she has decided not to be a boring sort of bride. Tell me, what will you wear to counter the challenge?"
Ridge picked up his wine and swallowed. "She's chosen the color of red Symmetra. Therefore Kalena leaves me little choice. I will have to wear black, won't I? The black of the night that enfolds the moon, the way a man embraces his woman."
Kalena felt the heat surge into her face, knowing her small act of assertiveness had just been well and truly squashed. "The entire matter of the wedding would seem quite pointless under the circumstances."
"No," Quintel said gently, "it is not pointless. Not in this instance. You must trust my judgment in this matter. I have made all the preparations. The wedding will be at the customary hour of sunset and it will be followed by a proper feast."
"You have invited a lot of people?" Kalena asked anxiously. A good-sized crowd would make her task easier. Olara had foreseen a large crowd.
"A number of traders and their associates. Men Ridge knows. Forgive me for not asking if there was anyone you would wish to invite, Kalena. I assumed that since you are alone in town there would be no one you would wish present."
"I'll let you know tomorrow evening," Kalena said firmly.
Ridge immediately picked up on that remark. He shot her a quick, speculative glance. "What happens tomorrow evening?"
"It is then I hope to meet some new friends. Perhaps I will ask them to the wedding. The bride is entitled to bring her own witnesses, is she not? She is entitled to have women friends to attend her and make certain she has her time of privacy after the ceremony before the groom comes to her room." She had to have that traditional hour of privacy. It was essential to her task.
"Of course you may invite whom you wish," Quintel murmured.
Ridge scowled thoughtfully. "What friends will you be meeting? You know no one in town."
"Except Arrisa. You remember her?" Some of Kalena's earlier enthusiasm returned. Her eyes sparkled.
"She has arranged to give me what she calls a trade wife send-off. She and her associates will be calling for me tomorrow evening. Oh, that reminds me, my lord," she added, turning to Quintel. "Please do not expect me for the evening meal tomorrow"
Ridge shifted slightly, one arm looped around an upraised knee, his wine goblet grasped in his fingers. His golden gaze was narrow and suspicious. "You plan to spend the evening
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 or two of his shirts for him.
Modestly, she lowered her eyes to the dish of hot, whipped columa berries in front of her. She had no wish to actively participate in the table conversation. But Ridge seemed determined to push her into the discussion.
"What about the wedding cloak? Did you find one?"
Her mouth started to lift in a private smile. Firmly Kalena stifled it. "Yes, Ridge. I found one."
Casually, Quintel asked the next question. "What did you select, Kalena?"
She looked up, meeting Ridge's gaze. "Red," she stated boldly. "A most interesting shade of scarlet."
Quintel laughed in genuine amusement, raising his goblet in mock salute to Ridge whose expression was wry. "Very good. The lady has issued a challenge, Fire Whip. It would seem she has decided not to be a boring sort of bride. Tell me, what will you wear to counter the challenge?"
Ridge picked up his wine and swallowed. "She's chosen the color of red Symmetra. Therefore Kalena leaves me little choice. I will have to wear black, won't I? The black of the night that enfolds the moon, the way a man embraces his woman."
Kalena felt the heat surge into her face, knowing her small act of assertiveness had just been well and truly squashed. "The entire matter of the wedding would seem quite pointless under the circumstances."
"No," Quintel said gently, "it is not pointless. Not in this instance. You must trust my judgment in this matter. I have made all the preparations. The wedding will be at the customary hour of sunset and it will be followed by a proper feast."
"You have invited a lot of people?" Kalena asked anxiously. A good-sized crowd would make her task easier. Olara had foreseen a large crowd.
"A number of traders and their associates. Men Ridge knows. Forgive me for not asking if there was anyone you would wish to invite, Kalena. I assumed that since you are alone in town there would be no one you would wish present."
"I'll let you know tomorrow evening," Kalena said firmly.
Ridge immediately picked up on that remark. He shot her a quick, speculative glance. "What happens tomorrow evening?"
"It is then I hope to meet some new friends. Perhaps I will ask them to the wedding. The bride is entitled to bring her own witnesses, is she not? She is entitled to have women friends to attend her and make certain she has her time of privacy after the ceremony before the groom comes to her room." She had to have that traditional hour of privacy. It was essential to her task.
"Of course you may invite whom you wish," Quintel murmured.
Ridge scowled thoughtfully. "What friends will you be meeting? You know no one in town."
"Except Arrisa. You remember her?" Some of Kalena's earlier enthusiasm returned. Her eyes sparkled.
"She has arranged to give me what she calls a trade wife send-off. She and her associates will be calling for me tomorrow evening. Oh, that reminds me, my lord," she added, turning to Quintel. "Please do not expect me for the evening meal tomorrow"
Ridge shifted slightly, one arm looped around an upraised knee, his wine goblet grasped in his fingers. His golden gaze was narrow and suspicious. "You plan to spend the evening
Similar Books
