The Mistress
“Faker,” she said.
“You’re stronger than you look.”
“You have to be to wrestle with Scottish deerhounds.”
“Those dogs are horses.”
“They aren’t nearly as easy to saddle and ride.”
Wes started to say something but closed his mouth when they heard Søren’s voice in the hallway.
“Nesichah?”
Laila sat up immediately and raced to the door.
“I’m here,” she said, rushing out into the hall. “Wes was checking my face.”
Her uncle cupped her chin and turned her face toward the hall light.
“It’s healing well. You should go to bed. Wesley needs his sleep, too.”
“I will. Promise.”
He kissed her on the forehead and walked down the hall.
Laila went back into Wes’s room.
“What was that he called you?” Wes asked. “Nesichah?”
“It’s Hebrew. It means ‘princess.’ He’s always called me that.”
“Princess? Nice.” He laughed at a joke only he seemed to get.
“When Gitte’s good he calls her Malcah. That means ‘queen.’ When she’s being wild he calls her Behemah.”
“Behemah?”
“Hebrew for ‘animal.’”
Wes laughed as Laila laid back down on the bed. He didn’t seem in any hurry to get rid of her, and for her part she kind of wanted to stay in bed with him forever. A bad idea. She’d get muscle atrophy in only a few weeks. They’d probably need to work out in bed if they stayed here. She had a few ideas for some exercises they could do.
“Gitte’s a little hyperactive. We’re hoping she grows out of it.”
“I would have loved some siblings. Brothers or sisters.”
“You’re alone?”
“Yeah. Lots of cousins. Tons of cousins but no siblings. Mom was six months pregnant and miscarried when I was four. Took her a long time to get over it. And I don’t think she ever did. She didn’t want to try again.”
“I love Gitte when I don’t want to kill her. You could get married and have kids.”
“That’s the plan. Fill up the house with them. You want kids?”
“Kids, animals, all of it. No one has big families in Denmark anymore. Small country, small houses, small families. It’s why I’ve always wanted to come to America. Big country, big houses. I have big dreams.”
“You have good dreams. I need some good dreams.”
“Is that a hint I should go and let you sleep?”
Wes shook his head. “You can stay. I should sleep but I don’t want to. I feel better talking to you.”
“I like talking to you, too. Although we keep getting off the subject.”
“I don’t even remember the subject.”
“Sex,” Laila reminded him. Wes laughed again.
“How could I forget? I’m twenty and male. That’s usually a safe guess for what’s on my mind.”
“I’m eighteen and female.”
“I’m not buying it. What goes on in your head can’t even begin to compare to what goes on in mine.”
“That’s not fair. There’s no way we can compare without switching brains.”
“That’s not going to happen. No one is allowed inside my brain. It is not pretty in there. All sex all the time. Most of the time, anyway.”
“That must be exhausting.”
“You have no idea.”
“At least you’ve had it. It’s all theory for me.”
“I’ve had it. But you’ve heard it,” he teased again. Laila raised her fist and Wes covered his stomach.
“I didn’t mean to hear it.”
“Did you cover your ears? Leave your bedroom? Start listening to music? Knock on the wall and tell them to keep it down?”
“No.”
“Then you meant to hear it.”
“I didn’t want to hear them having sex, I promise. I wanted to know what was going on. Tante Elle was acting strange when she came for the funeral. I heard them talking about how she left him.”
“Did she say why?”
“I know why she did. I don’t know how she does it, stays with him. I love him more than any other man on earth and even I would have a hard time being with him.”
“She deserves better than to be a secret.”
“He thinks so, too. That night, he said the same thing.”
“What did he say?”
Laila sighed as she pulled her knees to her chest. It had started to cool off in the room, but it didn’t seem right to get under the covers. They were only talking, not sleeping together.
“He said he was sorry that the only time she and he could be together out in the open like this was in Denmark. And that he wished it was under better circumstances than a funeral.”
Wes rolled off the bed and opened the closet door. He pulled down a blanket and came back to the bed.
“What did Nora say?”
“She said...” Laila paused as Wes laid the blanket over her before stretching out on the bed once more. He must have noticed her starting to shiver. “She said that her feelings right now were the last thing he needed to worry about. His mother had died. He was here for the funeral, and she was here for him.”
“Thank you,” Laila heard her uncle say through the wall. “Thank you for coming. I know how busy you are. I know you have other—”