Mari's Mistake - Ruby Dixon Page 0,45

place warm up, and then sit down on my furs and pull out the bag of herbs.

Farli didn't say how many to eat, or how to take them. For a moment, I consider leaving the hut to go and get her, but I don't want to bring attention to what I'm doing. Reluctantly, I grab a few of the thin, needle-like leaves and shove them into my mouth, chewing. It's like eating a mouthful of salty grass, and I gag and cough my way through each bite. I manage two handfuls—about half the bag—before my stomach starts to protest, and I drink cup after cup of water to try and clean the taste out of my mouth. I don't feel any different, and I sit on the furs, waiting for my body to pay attention. Is this like Spanish fly, where it makes you all horny? Or does it make you drunk?

Maybe I should have gotten drunk.

The idea has merit, and I get to my feet. Surely I can find some fermented sah-sah in the storage tents, right? I pull my boots on, but before I can head out, T'chai appears in the doorway, ducking his head so his proud, upright horns don't snag on the entrance.

"You are leaving?" he asks, a hint of hurt in his voice.

"What? Me? No." I sputter my replies. "I was going to go and look for you."

His wary expression changes to a smile, and I ache that I have so much power over this man. I should love that, right? Tia adores making every single guy on the beach dance to her tune. But I feel responsible for T'chai's smiles. He's mine. I take every frown and every sad expression personally, as if I've failed him.

I pat the blankets next to me, indicating he should join me. He doesn't hesitate, immediately dropping down to my side, and his eagerness makes me ache all over again. He deserves a better hand than what we've been dealt. I do, too, but I can suck it up and deal with my own misery—it's his that tears me apart.

T'chai takes my foot in his hands and works on unlacing my boots. It's been months and he still struggles with the foot coverings, so we have a ritual of me helping him put his on in the morning and to make up for it, he helps me take mine off at night. It's a friendly ritual. Sweet. We care for each other in the simplest of ways, and that reminds me that a marriage (or a mating) isn't just about sex. It's about being there for each other. I was there for T'chai during his awful illness, when every single part of his body seemed determined to wither away from the inside, and I'm sure if I was sick, he'd be there for me. Watching as he works on my boots, a look of intense concentration on his face as he works on the knots, I can't help but smile.

At least, I do until the boot is off and he caresses my bare skin. Once, I would have killed for a foot rub. Now it just sends an unpleasant skitter along my spine.

This is your mate, I remind myself. Remember when you were willing to be an island ho because you couldn't keep your hands off of him? He's the same guy. He's even better looking now, and you know him inside out. You love him.

At least…I think I love him? It's hard to tell with the biology controlling all the signals. All I know is that I was obsessed with him back on the island, and just touching him made me absolutely crazy. Then he nearly died for me. After that were his months of recovery, and so many days that I thought he was going to die after all, and even if it's not hearts and flowers love, we're bonded on so many levels after what we've gone through. I can't imagine my life without T'chai in it, and I don't want to. He's mine…even if my khui doesn't agree.

It liked him once. Surely it can like him again.

So I smile widely in what's hopefully an encouraging way as he rubs my foot. I don't pull away, even though I kind of want to. It's not him. It's my khui that's malfunctioning.

He pulls my second boot off and then leans over to kiss me, his mouth seeking mine.

I can't help but compare the kisses in a way