And that was worse.
“The band on his left ring finger,” he shared. “If a man has a band there, that means he’s married.”
“How marvelous!” Josette cried. “And what an excellent idea.” She turned to Franka. “If our men wore bands, a woman would know and she wouldn’t have to walk into a pub and unexpectedly have some wench accost her, tearing at her hair and clothing and spitting in her face.”
Clearly, this was something that had happened to Josette.
Christ.
Franka, already relaxed into his body and his hold, relaxed deeper while noting, “I never did quite understand the impulse of the wronged wife going after the lover. If the lover knew about the wife, all’s fair and I bid her strength in every pull and as much spittle as she can produce. If she didn’t, why tear at her hair and spit in her face? The lover was wronged as well, perhaps not as wronged as the wife, but she was wronged. The wife should be tearing at her husband’s hair and spitting in his face.” She tipped her head back and looked to Noc. “Do you agree? Or are vows of fidelity not practiced here as Cora and Circe shared they were?”
“They’re practiced,” he replied. “And I agree. A dude cheats, his wife cuts off his dick, my thoughts, he’s got no place to complain.”
A sweet, happy light lit in Franka’s eyes at his words.
“His dick?” Josette stage-whispered to Franka, she turned to her girl and Noc lost that light.
But he’d had it, he liked it and he was good with that.
Midnight soul.
Not even fucking close.
“I do believe, with that term, that Noc’s referring to a man’s member,” Franka stage-whispered back.
And Noc was again fighting laughter.
“They vow fidelity here?” Josette asked.
“They do,” Franka told her.
“Odd,” Josette mumbled.
Noc was surprised. “You don’t in your world?”
Frannie looked back up at him. “As they speak an ancient tongue, no one actually knows what the Vallees are saying during the marriage ceremony, even, in some cases, the Vallees. But my understanding is, no. Fidelity is not vowed in the Dwelling of the Gods when a man and woman are officially wed. Expected by the lower classes, definitely.” Her mouth tightened. “Expected from the females of all the classes, also definitely. Expected from the males of the Houses, no.”
“I take it you don’t like that much,” Noc observed.
“What’s expected for one should be expected for all,” she replied.
Noc again beat back laughter as he curled her closer and dipped his face to hers. “Listen to my Frannie, just a few months ago you were all about class, conservative to the core. Now you sound like a socialist.”
“I’ve no idea what that means but the teasing light in your eyes and the grin on your lips I have seen on a variety of occasions. As such, I do know what they mean and they make me think I should be finding you annoying right now,” she returned.
“Not today, baby,” he murmured, giving her a squeeze. “Today started great, it’s going great, and it’s going to keep going that way so let’s get along.”
“With delight,” she agreed. “But only because you called me ‘my Frannie’ and it’s the first time you’ve called me anything, outside Franka and sweetheart, that I like, so it’s put me in a good mood.”
Noc liked that she liked that.
And he liked that she looked almost as good in jeans and a designer tee as she did in that unbelievable dress she’d worn last night. He liked that she wasn’t letting the heels beat her and she had on another pair (or it could be that Valentine had only supplied those and she had nothing else, Valentine wasn’t at her place when they showed that morning and didn’t return before they left—not that he’d ask about Frannie’s shoes, but he would express his gratitude).
He also liked that she dug beignets so much, after she’d swallowed her first bite, she’d kissed him right at their table at the very crowded Café du Monde like they had their own private room. She did it long. She used her tongue. And she tasted of dough and powdered sugar when she did it, which made a fucking great kiss even better.
Further, he liked having her curled close. He liked that not only because he liked her curled close, but because she was close and not half a continent away on a parallel universe so he could curl her close.
And onward from that, he liked that he had his Frannie back so she could act uppity and cute, making him want to laugh, which he did right then.
But more, he liked all that knowing she’d be in his bed that night, and after he did what he was going to do to her there, she’d sleep in his arms again.
Oh yeah.
He liked all that.
A fuckuva lot.
“I’ve heard you chuckle, of course,” she said, her voice lower, meant only for him, and as she studied him her eyes were warm. “But I’ve never seen that particular look on your face.”
“That’s a happy look, sweetheart,” he told her. “Though, I’ve been happy around you so let’s just say it’s a seriously happy look.”
One of her brows went up. “Happy to be home?”
“Happy we’re both home.”
His words made her melt into him, doing it lifting her hands from where they were sitting light on his waist to rest them on his chest and giving him a sexy smile that he took as her being happy too.
“Here they are,” the sales guy cut into their moment, and Noc tore his gaze from Franka, feeling her turn slightly in his arms, but she didn’t take her hands from his chest nor did she turn in a way she’d lose contact with him at all.