Authors: Lydia Michaels
“Stop!” She had to shake
her head. “You aren’t listening to me. I said no. I’m not marrying you and I am
not going to be some barefoot and pregnant service girl for you to bark orders
at. You’re not the boss of me.”
“The Good Book says
the
head of every man is Christ and the head of every woman is her man.”
“What kind of fucked up
fairytales have you been reading?”
“It is in the bible,” he
said simply.
“Well that’s just
peachy. I subscribe more to the book of Cosmo which says misogynistic
chauvinism is best to be avoided.”
“Cosmo?”
“Yeah, let’s call that
the Better Book.”
He was quiet for a few
minutes and then announced, “Failure to quietly submit is a denial of the
culture and faith in which you are being indoctrinated into.”
“Ex-actly. Glad you’re
finally getting it.”
“I get nothing.”
No shit.
“Delilah, you say you do
not understand or believe these values, but they are the way of life here. I am
not misogynistic. It is not subjugation I am pressing on you, but the role of
equality. Our women hold a position of value unlike that of the English
societies. Females are not expected to run around pretending to be men here.
They are expected to be female in all things. Delicate and nurturing, we seek
only your natural qualities to come into the light. You are capable of things
no man could ever do. I am trying to show you how to embrace those gifts.”
“By cleaning up after
you?”
“By caring for me.”
“Yeah, that sounds fair.
Didn’t you people ever hear of women’s lib? How about bringing in some
real
equality?
I like being waited on as much as the next guy. You can even borrow my apron.”
“Being equal does not
necessarily mean being the same, Delilah. I am male, you are female, and we
are, by God’s choice, different. It only makes sense that our roles differ as
well, so that we may better channel our unique gifts.”
All she could do was
stare. He was nuts, but she already knew that. Apparently, he found her silence
encouraging.
“Around the house I
expect you to be comfortable. You may go with or without shoes, but always be
properly dressed outside of our bedroom. When it is just the two of us you may
wear your hair down, but in the presence of others I expect you to wear your
halduch
,
bonnet. However, if your responsibilities extend outside the four walls of our
home, I shall expect you to dress properly. I would not like for other males to
see your hair unadorned—”
She held up her hand,
opened her mouth, closed it, turned on her heel, and walked away.
“Where are you going?”
“To flash my knickers on
the front porch!” she snapped. But she didn’t go to the front porch. She went
to the den and scowled out the window. This was some sort of new twist on hell.
She heard him approach.
Say one more word, I
dare you…
“There are varying
shades of dominance in all marriages, Deli—”
She shrieked.
“Do you
hear yourself? I am not your wife!”
“You are my mate.”
Her face planted in her
palms as she screamed. “Christian,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “Please,
listen. I will
never
be the subservient wife you’re looking for. Accept
that and let me go.
Please!”
“I will not let you go.”
Was this what an
embolism felt like? Her head was literally pulsing. A few more hours or days
and she’d be gone. It couldn’t be that hard. The fucker didn’t even have a car.
Stuffing down her rage,
she pretended to be interested in negotiations. It was in her best interests to
make him believe he was making progress. That way when she left he’d be totally
unprepared to stop her.
“Then bend—
at least a
little
—in these ridiculous expectations you have. I met the other girls. I
didn’t see any of them cowering to their spouses. Annalise had her hair down!
Cain nearly groped Destiny in front of everyone. The bishop’s wife was out and
about. Why is it, for all your talk about the ways of the Amish world, you’re
the only one who seems to believe these outdated ways of life?”
“The way others handle
their marriages is none of our concern.”
“Well, it concerns me,
since I’m the one being sentenced to Donna Reed’s special corner of hell. When
you show me where the flour is be sure to point out the arsenic, because a
heaping scoop’s going in the first batch of muffins!”
He stilled, his head
drawing back. “Are you threatening to poison your mate?”
Oh my God, oh my God, oh
my God!
She
took several deep breaths. She could figure this out. Nothing was this
difficult. Plopping down on the firm sofa she rubbed her temples.
“Okay, let’s try this
again. How about we negotiate? You put a suggestion on the table of how you
would like our
partnership
to work”—she could not call him her mate—
“and I’ll also make a suggestion. For every condition I agree to, you agree to
one of mine.”
“All right.”
She looked up at him. He
actually seemed to be in genuine agreement with her for once. He lowered
himself on the high back chair across from her. Delilah took a deep breath and
sat up.
“Okay, what is the first
condition? Think carefully, Christian, because I’m not agreeing to wash your
feet or rip off the heads of chickens, no matter what you give me in return.”
He thought for a moment
and she prepared herself for whatever ridiculous thing he was sure to ask.
Fucking weirdo farm vampyres—
“Sex.”
All thoughts came to a
screeching halt. “Beg pardon?” she said, nearly falling out of her chair.
“You are my mate and I
find it difficult not to take from you in a…marital sense. I would like to have
husbandly rights to your body.”
Funny, of all the
expectations she assumed he’d ask for, that one never crossed her mind. Oh, yuck!
Her body was already tightening at the possibility. Did she have no shame?
No!
She mentally growled the word in the direction of her thighs now pressing
together with excitement.
However…sex was a big
request. That bargaining chip could maybe get her something huge in return.
Annnnnd… men got stupid after sex. She could seduce him, get him to let down
his guard, really put her feminine wiles to work. It wasn’t like he was ugly.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t already done the deed.
Brows raised, lips tight,
she nodded. Sex. Sex with Christian. The idea wasn’t appalling. She liked sex.
They had good sex. He couldn’t change her again… “How often?”
“As often as I wish.”
Something in his eyes
had her shifting her weight and looking away. Damn chafing Amish clothes.
Play
it cool.
“Biting?”
The side of his mouth
kicked up. “Only if you ask me to.”
She snorted. “I’m pretty
sure I can contain myself.”
“Is that a yes?”
Should she say no?
Should she think about it? It was a hell of a lot better than plucking chickens
and milking cows. “Yyyyessss,” she said in a slow, distrusting voice.
He smiled. “Good,
pintura.
Your turn.”
“I want to be able to
leave the house when I wish.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?
You didn’t even think about it. And I just gave you sex!”
“You haven’t given me a
thing yet. You are a mated female and not entirely familiar with our laws or
people. For the time being you will require an escort, namely me.”
“Okay, fine. You’re my
escort, but I want to be able to make friends with the other girls. I liked
hanging out with them today. If you say no I take the sex back and you can go
fuck yourself.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Watch yourself, Delilah.”
“Oh, I’m so scared.
Which is it?”
Drawing in a long breath
and looking away, he mumbled, “I do not see an issue with their influence.
Agreed.”
The way he said that it
didn’t seem like she’d won much in that trade-off. “Okay, your turn.”
“You will refrain from
calling me asshole, prick, douche, tool bag, sheep fucker, and any of the other
colorful terms you seem to favor when referring to me. That goes for in your
head or aloud. No telling me to go fuck myself either. I am your mate. You may
address me as such or use my given name.”
Well, that wasn’t much
fun. But he was being pretty reasonable at the moment. “Fine.”
He nodded. Her turn
again. She thought about what was important to her. “I want to visit my shop. I
have things I need to handle.”
“No.”
“Jeeze, do you know
another word? Why not?”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“Why?”
“Because you are
different now. Your body has needs you are not yet familiar with or capable of
tending to without compulsion. If you stray too far from the farm, your body
may betray you and you risk exposure. It’s my duty to protect you and I see
such a journey as too much of a risk.”
“Then go with me.”
He seemed surprised
she’d invite him. “I will consider it in two weeks’ time, depending on how you
adapt. If I feel you are not yet ready, then the answer remains no.”
Not like he’ll have much
choice. Eventually I’ll just go without him.
“You will not leave this
farm without my permission.”
“I want you out of my
head!”
“Is that a condition?”
he asked calmly.
“Yes,” she growled.
“No. I do not trust you.
Until you show me you can be trusted, you can expect me in your thoughts.”
She threw her hands up
in exasperation. “So far I’ve agreed to everything you’ve asked and you’ve said
no to almost all of mine. This game sucks.”
“Ask for something
realistic, Delilah, and I will be more than happy to grant you it.”
She didn’t even know
what to ask. No matter what, he was winning. Any freedom she thought she was
earning here was just an illusion of perception. She wanted something that
would make him feel the pinch of loss.
“You are not to feed me
without consent.”
“Will you feed on your
own?” he asked.
“I’ll eat.”
“Feeding is not the same
as eating. Blood serves a different purpose than food.”
“Has a vampyre ever
starved from not drinking blood?”
“It would become very
painful to go without blood.”
“Well, then let me be
the judge of how long I can go. I don’t want you doing that bedazzle thing
again where you make me agree to drink your blood. I find it repulsive.”
A cool ache settled in
her veins the moment the words left her lips. He withdrew subtly and she
wondered if what she said had been more insulting than she’d meant.
“Okay,” he rasped. “I
will never force my repulsive blood on you again. But when you do finally
decide to feed, you will do so from my vein or the vein of one of the animals
while in my presence. Your lips do not touch another living thing.”
“Not a problem.”
The mood had shifted.
Christian’s expression was cool, but somehow guarded. “I believe we have
discussed enough for now.” He stood.
“What about all the
cleaning and crap?”
He turned to face the
door. Not offering the eye contact she had come to expect from him, he said, “I
have been taking care of my needs for three hundred years, Delilah. I expect to
be able to make it another few days without your assistance.” Then he walked
away and she heard the front door slam.
* * * *
Delilah sat at the plain
wooden table in the dimming light and plucked at the crust of her peanut butter
and jelly sandwich. She didn’t have an appetite. It had been hours since
Christian left. Several times it occurred to her that she could just leave—got
as far as the woods once—but something held her there. She refused to admit she
might feel guilty about maybe hurting his feelings, so she convinced herself
she was under some sort of spell.
How was she supposed to
know that calling a vampyres blood repulsive was some kind of supernatural
faux-pas? It wasn’t like this was old hat to her. She was brand new. It
would’ve been nice if she had a freaking mate who understood that.
The sun faded from the
sky and she stood, dropping her sandwich in the trash, and placing her dish in the
sink. She was getting stir crazy from sitting in the house. Her eyes easily
guided her up the dark staircase. Standing outside the washroom, she decided
she’d take a bath. Thirty minutes later she was lowering herself into a
steaming tub of water. She may have been a little overzealous about heating the
water, but buckets and burners were another new thing.