Then again, as I had mentioned before, Phoebe was more than a little nuts.
But too much could go wrong. I wasn’t all fired up to be at the mercy of blue mist magic or whatever Noc was doing with Cora but I was equally not fired up about sticking my nose in where it might not belong. And, it had to be said, I had no interest at all in melting.
“Tor –” I started, his eyes slid to the side and his jaw went scary hard.
I looked to where he was looking to see a man holding a paper cup with a cardboard sleeve staring at my crossed legs as he passed by. Tor moved, the man’s eyes moved to Tor, his face blanched and he hurried away.
I looked at Tor to see him turning in his seat in order to continue scowling frighteningly at the man’s back and I twisted my hand so I could squeeze his fingers.
“Honey,” I called softly and his gaze sliced to me.
“Although your garments are becoming, Cora, I do not like the amount of skin they expose,” he growled.
“Tor –”
He cut me off with, “You have lovely legs.”
Wow. That was nice.
I smiled at him. “Thanks, baby.”
His face went as hard as his jaw. “Too lovely,” he went on. “And they are mine and I do not like that other men gaze at them.”
Oh boy.
“Tor, this is how we dress in my world,” I told him something he had to know for I was wearing another little dress with a light cardigan and high heels but there were other women around us in Capri pants, mini-skirts, skintight tees or tops with huge-ass cle**age. It wasn’t like he was blind.
“I am aware of that, Cora, but that does not mean I have to like how you dress in this world.”
I held my breath, waiting for him to say something Tor-like to piss me off, like I had to go home and change into something he preferred, say, a floor length granny ball gown that covered me from neck to wrist to ankle. But, surprisingly, he did not say this. He let my hand go and his eyes slid around the room. Then the anger faded from his face and it grew pensive.
“Tor?” I called and his eyes moved back to me. Before I could ask what was on his mind, he told me.
“Why are you not taken in this world?”
“Sorry?” I asked.
“You are very beautiful,” he stated as if this was fact and my belly melted and continued to melt as he carried on. “Far more beautiful than any woman I have seen not only in my own world but especially in this one. There is no compare.”
“Tor,” I whispered, my heart growing light.
“This does not make sense to me. If the Cora of my world had not been destined for me, men would fight battles for her. They did write songs and poems to her beauty. She might not be likable but that didn’t mean her beauty was not desirous and greatly admired. You hold not only her beauty but a kind heart and a sharp wit. It is…” he paused, “strange that no man has claimed you.”
Jeez, I loved this guy.
“Um… the dating game is different in this world and –” I started.
“Dating game?”
“Uh… wooing,” I explained, “you know, courting.”
He shook his head and stated, “Rubbish.”
I tipped my head to the side and replied, “No, honey, it’s true.”
His eyes held mine. Then he leaned in, reached across the table between us and again took my hand. I studied the look on his face and twisted my body to face him, leaning in too, giving him my full attention.
When he had it, he spoke. “Cora, I have been thinking about this, noting your men’s response to you, your people’s response to us, and it occurs to me that there may be other powers at work here.”