See, this was what she looked like on the inside, so no wonder the glymera despised her. Somehow they knew this was the truth of her.
God maybe that was why Butch hadn't wanted her
Oh, hell no. The last thing she needed was to think about him right now. What she had to do was straighten herself up as best she could and then scoot up to her bedroom. Sure, hiding was unattractive, but so was she.
Just as she reached up to her hair, she heard the outside door to the lounge open, the chamber music swelling, then easing off as it closed.
Great. Now she was trapped. But maybe it was only one female so she didn't have to worry about being an eavesdropper.
"I can't believe I spilled on my shawl, Sanima."
Okay, so now she was an eavesdropper as well as a coward.
"It's barely noticeable," Sanima said. "Although thank the Virgin you caught it before anyone else did. We'll go in here together and use some water."
Marissa shook herself into focus. Don't worry about them, just fix your hair. And for the Virgin's sake do something about that mascara. You look like a raccoon.
She grabbed a washcloth and wet it quietly while the two females went into the little room across the way. Obviously, they left the door opentheir voices were undimmed.
"But what if someone saw?"
"Shh let's take the shawl offoh, my Lord." There was a short laugh. "Your neck."
The younger female's voice dropped to an ecstatic hush. "It's Marlus. Ever since we were mated last month, he's been"
Now the laughter was shared.
"Does he come to you often during the day?" Sanima's secretive tone was delighted.
"Oh, yes. When he said he wanted our bedrooms connected, I didn't know why. Now, I do. He's insatiable. And he he doesn't just want to feed."
Marissa stopped with the washcloth under her eye. Only once had she known a male's hunger for her. One kiss, only one and she held the memory with care. She was going to her grave a virgin, and that brief meeting of mouths was all she would ever have of anything sexual.
Butch O'Neal. Butch had kissed her withStop it.
She went to work on the other side of her face.
"To be newly mated, how marvelous. Though you mustn't let anyone see these marks. Your skin is marred."
"That's why I rushed in here. What if someone told me to take off the wrap because of the wine I spilled?" This was said with the kind of horror usually reserved for accidents involving knives.
Although, given the glymera, Marissa could understand all too well wanting to avoid their attention.
Tossing the washcloth aside, she tried to rework her hair and gave up not thinking about Butch.
God, she would have loved having to hide his teeth marks from the eyes of the glymera. Would have loved to hold the delicious secret that under the civilized gowns she wore, her body had known his raw sex. And she would have loved to bear the scent of his bonding for her on her skin, emphasizing it, as mated females did, by choosing the perfect complementary perfume.
But none of that was going to happen. For one thing, humans didn't bond, from what she'd heard. And even if they did, Butch O'Neal had walked away from her the last time she'd seen him, so he wasn't interested in her anymore. Probably because he'd heard about her deficiencies. As he was close with the Brotherhood, no doubt he knew all kinds of things about her now.
"Is there someone in here?" Sanima said sharply.
Marissa cursed under her breath and figured she'd just sighed out loud. Giving up on her hair and her face, she opened the door. When she stepped out, both females looked down, which was in this instance was a good thing. Her hair was a train wreck.
"Worry not. I will say nothing," she murmured. Because sex was never to be discussed in a public place. Or any private ones, really.
The two curtsied dutifully and did not reply while Marissa left.
And as soon as she walked out of the lounge, she felt more glances sliding away from her, all eyes going elsewhere especially those of the unmated males smoking cigars over in the corner.