I scowled at him. "Should I be insulted?"
"No, it's part of your charm that no matter how many men you have in your life, you never quite get comfortable with it."
I scowled harder. "Why is it charming?"
He shrugged. "Not sure, but it's very you."
I frowned at him. "And being all mysterious and vague is very you."
The grin faded a little, to almost his normal smile. It was a colder smile.
I had a thought. "What would you have done if I'd said that I'd need to feed the ardeur when I woke up?"
He lay down, spilling the sheet over him. I already had the sheet over me. He turned and looked at me with the lamp still on. "Dealt with it."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we would have dealt with it."
"Edward . . ."
"Let it go, Anita," he said, and then he reached up and turned off the light. And just as he was one of the few people in the world that I would let back me up, he was one of the few that I would let drop this particular topic. He was right; we'd deal with it, the way we dealt with everything else.
I lay on my back in the dark. He was doing the same. "Edward," I asked.
"Hmm," he said.
"Are you a side sleeper, or a back sleeper?"