Broken Truce (Broken City, #2)

Broken Truce (Chapter Two)

                                                                        Chapter Two

                                                                              Deeta

The first thing I see when I wake up the next morning is Tom’s face. Jan and I returned to the lounge after her midnight snack and talked until we fell asleep. I think it is Jan and Tom’s voices that wake me up, and as I groggily try to kick-start my brain, Janny gets to her feet and stretches.

“I’d better go back to bed before that man of mine wakes up and sees that I’m not there.” She rearranges her dressing gown and gives me a grin. “He’ll behave like a moody teenager for the rest of the day, if I’m not!”

She leaves, and I turn back to Tom. He’s crouched down beside my chair, elbows propped up on the arm, cradling his chin in his hands. His face is very pale, dark smudges of fatigue ring the sleepy eyes that are fixed on my face, a lazy smile in their depths.

“You look tired.”

“I am.”

I shift a little in my chair as his gaze becomes more alert and his mouth stretches into a slow smile.

“Deeta?”

I feel a shiver of goose bumps spread over my arms at the softly caressing tone.

“Yes?”

“You’re dribbling.”

I touch a hand to my face in panic but there is nothing there.

“Made you look!” laughs Tom his whole body shaking with mirth. I thump a cushion into his grinning face.

“Horrid boy!”

 “Say it like you mean it, Deetina,” he whispers teasingly, catching my arm and pulling the cushion out of my grip, before drawing me closer. I hang back against the gentle pressure and shake my head in mock indignation.

“Don’t even think about it, I’m not kissing you: you’re ghastly!”

Tom shrugs his shoulders.

“You should have thought about that before you married me.”

I continue the pretence of resisting while still allowing him to pull me closer.

“I was blinded by your shoulders.”

For a moment Tom stills and looks down at me as though he couldn’t possibly have heard me correctly.

“You were blinded by my what?”

“Your shoulders,” I sigh gustily, playing with a button on the front of his shirt. “I was so busy admiring them that I didn’t notice you stalking me. Before I knew it, you pounced and I was caught.” I shake my head. “Such a sad tale.”

Tom slants a disbelieving look my way.

“As I recall it was you who pounced on me,” he corrects, “and you waited until I was injured and weak to do so!”

By now his arms are wrapped around me cradling me close.

“You feeling injured or weak now, Tom?”

“Why? Are you thinking of taking advantage of me again?”

I run a finger over the short bristles on his cheek.

“The idea had occurred to me.”

“Well as it happens I am feeling a little bit faint at the moment,’ muses Tom. ‘I doubt I’ll be able to put up much of a fight.”