All's Fair in Love and Lion (4 page)

Chapter 6: Sasha

Vaguely, I make out an outline of a tall figure coming closer. A tingle shoots through me as I recognize him. “Monroe, you’re here.”

“I see you’ve been waiting for me.”

Awkwardly I shift my weight. “I . . . I wondered about you.” My feet sink into the warm sand, getting caught between my toes. A salty breeze catches a strand of his hair and blows it across his face. If I were braver, I’d brush it back. Tucking my hands into my pockets, I chastise myself. Why am I so scared?

He gently puts his finger under my chin and lifts my face toward his. “No reason for embarrassment. It’s an honor.”

“I’m curious,” I say, attempting to keep my heart calm. “I’m not entirely certain you really exist. But, I’ve decided if I’m going to go insane, I’ll accept it.”

His eyes flash. “When will you believe you’re not insane?”

“Could you really appear to me outside of my dreams?”

“I could try.”

“Would you be as real as anybody else?”

“Do you want me with you outside of your mind?”

“I think so.” I wring my hands together.

“You must be sure.” His voice rumbles urgently. “If not, nothing will happen.”

“I . . .” Here’s my chance to belong to someone. I’d literally have the man of my dreams. If he appeared to me fully, then would I believe in him?

He waits. A breeze ripples through his navy shirt, and ruffles his hair. The sun picks up the gold flecks in his eyes, making them brighter.

“I don’t know any man like you. I mean, Carl is nice and all, but he’s not you. I’m not making sense.”

“You want someone like you’ve read about in books and fairy-tales. Someone who sweeps you off your feet.” His hand takes mine and he squeezes it.

How does he know? “Exactly. Anyway, in thirty years I’ve never met anyone who was right. Maybe I’m expecting too much.” The familiar loneliness sweeps through me. I hold back the tears. The roar of the ocean blots out the sound of my pounding heart. If only I could belong to Monroe, then I wouldn’t be all alone anymore. It would be different with him, right? But, we come from different worlds. Why doesn’t he want someone from his world? Why me?

“You’re not expecting too much.” He breaks through my thoughts, his voice low. “You’re expecting me.”

“What!”

He kisses my palm. “I know because I’ve waited for someone like you for my entire life.”

No one’s ever said that to me before. “You have?”

“Sasha,” he says, his strong hands framing my face, “I’ve existed without someone to love in the Third Realm for over thirty years. I always knew the woman meant for me would be different. Love seemed unattainable. Yet, I hoped.” His thumbs stroke my cheeks. “You’re the woman I’ve waited for. I want you to desire me as much as I desire you.”

“I hardly know you.” My voice wavers.
Oh, if I could have you . . .

“Give us a chance. You’ll get to know me.”

“I guess. Could you tell me about yourself?” That might give me a chance to regain my composure.

“My name is Monroe Dubay. I own several lands in the Third Realm. My family is of the Lion Lineage . . . meaning . . .” He clears his throat. “If I choose, I can turn myself into a lion—but only in the Third Realm. I can’t do that anywhere else. We’re one of the royal families of the Third Realm, which automatically makes me one of the nine Council members who govern the realm. I don’t see my younger brother, Rowin, and his family very often.” A twinge of regret flickers in his eyes. “I have a friend, Bast, who’s a man-beast jackal, and has a wife named Alexia.”

“Sounds like a fairy-tale.” A longing fills me. What I’d give to be a part of that happily-ever-after.

He visibly relaxes. “Where do you suppose they came from? The Third Realm helps writers, especially those of fairy-tales, come up with ideas. Most humans can’t grasp the concept of the Third Realm so they attribute everything to imagination.”

“What makes you think I can?”

“Something I’ve sensed from you suggests a capacity to understand things unfathomable to others.”

“It’s a lovely story.” I poke my toe into the sand. I want to believe, with all my heart. Yet, the teacher side of me argues it goes against everything I’ve studied about literature and stories.

“I assure you, it’s all true.”

“Perhaps. Except, I’m a rational being,” I insist. Who am I’m trying to convince? Me, or him?

“Yet, you secretly love the stories. It’s how I’m able to appear to you.”

“I always did hope.” The instructor inside me screams for me to stop talking nonsense. Somehow, I can’t seem to stop myself. “I’ve wished for a great love. You know, like in
Cinderella
or
Snow White
. Despite everything, I’ve never shaken the hope I’d meet someone special.”
Special, but I know fairy-tale princes are only found in stories.
The unspoken words play in my mind. A hole forms around my toe, and the sand sprinkles over my foot. I let the grains fall between my toes. “There’ve been men who liked me. However, in the end, I wasn’t what they wanted. I thought I gave up the Prince Charming fantasy when I was a teenager, after the accident.”

“What happened?” he asks.

I drag in a breath. “I was at my best friend Melody’s house for a sleepover. A drunk driver hit my parents, then ran into a pole. They were rushed to the emergency room, but the doctors couldn’t do anything for them. The driver was arrested.” My blood boils and tears threaten.
I won’t cry.
“It’s unjust! Even now I wonder if it was just a bad dream. My dad’s sister and her family moved in for a while until I went away to college.” The tears spill over. “Why did the drunk driver survive when my parents didn’t?”

I swipe the tears from my cheeks, embarrassed that after all these years the whole event still affects me so deeply. The waves from the ocean crash against the shore, soothing me. Slowly I regain my self-control. “Anyway, I became a high school English teacher. I have friends, although, I mostly keep to myself. I don’t date much. I like books, and music, and a nice cup of tea, and warm, fluffy robes.” I laugh, feeling silly. “I’m babbling.”

“Babble away. It’s very human and I appreciate your human side. Which is unusual since I find other humans trivial.”

“Interesting.” I sit down on a log. “Tell me more.”

He takes the space next to me. “What would you like to know?”

“What attracts you to me?”

“Simple. You’re beautiful, smart, and sweet. Also, you have a passion inside. It’s intriguing.” His eyes sparkle. “I know you aren’t attracted to me. I hope in time that changes.”

“What makes you think I’m not?” I cover my face with my hands, blushing.

He pulls my hands from my face. “You are?”

My emotions a jumble, I nod.

“Then, what attracts
you
to
me
?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Please.”

The earnestness in his expression melts my defenses. I can feel my cheeks flame. “You’re . . . nice to look at.”

“You wound me.” I hear the amusement in his voice. “Just nice to look at?”

I twist around, my back facing him. “Fine. You’re sexy.”

He chuckles. “Please continue.”

“Do I have to?” Nerves jump around in my stomach.

“Yes, I want to know what else.”

“This is so embarrassing!”

“Does it help I’m enjoying what you have to say?”

Mortified, I leap to my feet. “No.”

I hear him shift off the log and take a step toward me. “I’ll remain quiet and let you proceed.”

Uncomfortable, I keep my back to him. “I’m flattered you think I’m beautiful and your kisses feel wonderful.” Inwardly I groan.
Why did I tell him that?

He turns me around to face him again, and murmurs, “Like this?”

A tremor goes through me. My eyelids droop shut. Of their own accord, my hands travel up his arms and wrap around his neck. His masculine scent invades my senses. The ocean roars in my ears and my heart races.

Before I realize it, I’m kissing him back with equal fervor. His heart thumps in sync with mine. Fireworks go off in my head. His tongue tangles with mine. A peppermint flavor scatters over my taste buds, fueling my desire.

Then a thought jolts into my dazed head.
What am I doing?
I fight for control and pull back slowly. Reluctantly, he lets me go.

“Yes,” I gasp out. “Exactly what I meant.”

His chest heaves and I wonder if he’s shaken the way I am.

“Sasha, you’re everything I want in a wife. I sense things about you. I want to know more. Do you believe that much?”

“I think so.”

“Then, it’s a step.”

The air begins to shimmer.

“What’s happening?”

“You’re waking,” he answers.

I try reaching for his hand. I grab nothing. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m never far away. Anytime you want me, call me and I’ll come.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

He vanishes. My head a mess, my stomach in knots, I feel like Alice did when she fell down the rabbit hole.
What have I gotten myself into?

Chapter 7: Monroe

“The quiz on act one of
The Tempest
will be next Friday.”

The students’ groans divert me.

Sasha remains unmoved. “After we finish reading
The Tempest,
we’ll have a test on all four acts worth ten percent of your grade. Perhaps these grades will show improvement from the
Pride and Prejudice
tests. Write your names and class period on the inside cover of your copies of
The Tempest
and begin reading Act One. No talking.”

I laugh outright at the severity of her gaze. Her students lower their heads as if to hide.

“Lively group of young people,”
I comment, entering her mind.

“Not now, Monroe,”
she thinks furiously.
“I’m working.”

“Wouldn’t it be entertaining if they heard their teacher moan passionately?”

“Monroe, I’m warning you.”

“I won’t embarrass you in front of them, Sasha.”

“What are you doing in my head now?”

“Thought you might like some company.”

“
Could you come back later? This is the last class of my day and I really don’t care to appear crazy
.
”

“Those minutes will seem endless.”

“I could throw you out.”

“I’d rather not feel the full force of your wrath.”

Exiting her consciousness, I feel a little guilty. It’s the third time today I’ve intruded on her thoughts. Once in the morning, once during lunch when Carl came in to give her extra essay entry forms. However, I’ve found I can hardly control myself.

“Fifteen minutes shouldn’t be that long to wait,” she mutters.

Some students look up and she glances pointedly at the books in their hands and they turn back to reading. She goes over the same paper three more times. The students start murmuring. They know she’s not usually flustered. She shoots them a dark look, and they hastily return to their assignment.

The clock on the wall says five minutes left.
Thank the Creator!

“I realize the bell is about to ring,” Sasha says as the students’ voices fill the air. “However, it hasn’t, so please lower your voices and stay in your seats.”

The students shift restlessly until a loud ring interrupts their activity. They leap up and head for the door.

Sasha walks around the empty room and straightens desks, picks up papers, and puts them in the Lost and Found box near her desk.

“I’m so glad,”
I say, as I reenter her head,
“you don’t have another class period. Do you realize how difficult it is for me to watch you and not be with you?”

“You need more patience,” she says aloud.

“You’re not the first, nor do I think you’ll be the last, to say so.”

“Perhaps you should take the advice.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You’re impossible,”
she says. There’s a hint of merriment in her tone.

“And you’re adorable.”

“Will you stop?”

“Did I embarrass you, again? Ah, yes, I can feel the heat from your cheeks.”

Exasperation fills her mind.
“Monroe, please. What if someone shows up?”

“If they do, maybe you’ll actually want me to fully appear and escort them out so you can have me all to yourself?”

“Don’t bet on it.”
Her voice reminds me of a lioness’s growl.

“One can always dream.”

In spite herself, she laughs.

“That’s a delightful sound,”
I say.
“What a pity other men can’t see in you what I do. However, I’d dispose of them before they had the opportunity.”

“Naturally,” she says out loud, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Did you anticipate less?”

“Never.”
A bit arrogant.
Her thought flits by me and I chuckle.

“Excellent.”

“Please leave. Some students will be here soon for tutoring.”

“How awful of them. But, I promise to behave.”

“I’ll believe that when it happens.”

“Now you tease. Bravo!”

“If you don’t mind yourself, I
will
push you from my mind.”

“I’ll be a model of good behavior.”

“Right.”

“You have the word of a gentleman.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Not at all, my lady.”

As she double-checks the blackboard, I say,
“You know, we don’t have teachers in the Third Realm. At least, not the way things are done in the First Realm.”

“Really?”
she inquires internally.
“What do you do for education?”

“Tutors. And I hated every one of them.”

“I can imagine how difficult you were.”

“Master Tomas did not enjoy having me for a pupil.”

“I sympathize with him.”

“
So did my parents, when they were alive. Master Tomas didn’t last long. Neither did Master Crumpton. When Master Renal came, my parents made it clear they’d make my life miserable if I didn’t
behave. I did better under him. I despised every minute.”

“I don’t envy the task they had. I’m sorry about your parents, though.”

“Don’t be. I’m grateful they gave me life, however, that’s where my admiration for them ends.”

“I was close to my parents. They were loving and kind. I miss them.”
She shakes her head.
“Let’s change the subject.”

My curiosity piques. She really misses her parents. Why doesn’t she want to talk about them? I reach out with my senses. The door to her memories slams shut.

“Monroe, no.”

“Why?”

“I . . . can’t.”

What hidden darkness has her so upset?

“My session begins at three-ten.”
She mentally draws back, taking on a professional tone.
“It gives the students time to get out of class, go to their lockers, and come here. I’ve four students coming and we end at three forty-five, then I’ll go home.”

“When you’re at home, perhaps I might appear to you.”

Her thoughts twist into a tangled heap before she answers me out loud. “Is that possible?”

“Anything is possible.”

“I guess so.”

“Then, we’ll try.”

She organizes herself as three students arrive. As promised, I remain quiet. To occupy myself, I contemplate the mystery behind Sasha’s emotions. Why is she reluctant to discuss her parents if she was so close to them?