13. Clair
CLAIR
The next morning, Clair was up with the sun. Well, the first sun, anyway. The second sun, which was much smaller and farther away, rose later in the day. But she was up at first light, intent on taking a shower in the massive bathing suite.
She was trying really hard not to think about what had happened between her and Kaelus the night before.
She was just going to forget about it, she decided.
And if the big Hybrid wanted to pretend like nothing had happened then fine—that was what they would do.
Two could play that game. She could be as cool and logical as he could and pretend like everything was like it had been before they’d watched each other come…
She lost her train of thought as she tried to figure out the strange alien shower. There was no showerhead that she could see—she simply climbed into what looked like a large stone sink set into the floor and pressed a button. Then the stone slab above her began to rain straight down on her head.
At first, the water was too cold, and she yelped loudly and nearly jumped out of the shower. Then she heard a smooth, mechanical voice say,
“Adjusting.”
A second later, the water warmed considerably and she sighed in relief. There were no bottles of shampoo or body wash, but a moment after the water turned warm, it turned soapy too.
As loads of creamy pink foam fell down to cover her head and body, she heard the door open and Kaelus hurried into the bathroom.
“Clair? Are you well?” he asked. Then he saw her and his eyes went wide. “What in the Seven Hells?” he demanded, rushing over. He dragged her out of the shower and began swiping the foam off her face and body with his big hands.
“Hey, wait a minute—what are you doing?” Clair sputtered, trying to fight him.
“Getting this substance off you! It could be dangerous,” he growled, looking down at her anxiously.
“This substance is the Titus Four version of bubble bath!” Clair protested. Then she caught a glimpse of herself in the viewer and decided she did look kind of strange. Most of her was covered in a thick layer of pink foam, making her look less like a human woman and more like a pink Yeti.
At last, Kaelus released her.
“I heard you cry out and thought you were in danger,” he said stiffly. “Forgive me for interrupting your morning ablutions.”
“It’s fine,” Clair told him, but she couldn’t help feeling a little warmer. No matter how distant he’d tried to act last night, it was clear the big Hybrid still worried about her.
She stepped back into the shower and was glad when the rain of pink foam ended and the shower started flowing with warm water again. At least now she could get washed off.
When she was squeaky clean, she pressed the button again and the water stopped flowing. She stepped out of the shower area and saw that, while Kaelus had left the bathing chamber, he had left her a large, puffy blue towel to dry off with.
Well, that was nice, she thought. Though she wasn’t sure how her naturally curly hair was going to react to being washed with the pink alien foam. It was a good thing she had her detangling comb with her.
When she got out of the bathing chamber, Kaelus was still waiting with an anxious expression on his face. When he saw her looking washed and well, some of the tension in his broad, bare shoulders seemed to ease.
“I’m glad the, uh, alien bubble bath didn’t hurt you,” he remarked. “I suppose it’s my turn now.”
“Enjoy yourself,” Clair said breezily. “Just don’t be surprised if the water starts out cold—that’s what made me yell earlier.”
“Oh—of course.” He nodded and stepped into the bathing room.
As quickly as she could, Clair got dressed.
By the time the big Hybrid came out of the bathroom, she was already wearing a new outfit that Maera had delivered for her—a lovely, swishy dress made of delicate, metallic blue fabric that fell to her ankles and hugged her curves lovingly—and detangling her hair.
She tried very hard not to look at Kaelus, who had nothing, but a towel wrapped around his narrow waist and beads of water all over his broad, bare shoulders and chest.
Just as she was wondering if she ought to look away while he got dressed, there was a knock at the door and Maera pushed in a moment later. Which honestly irritated Clair—was there no such thing as privacy here on Titus Four?
“Ah, there you are—please hurry!” their hostess said, smiling brightly. “The XXX is done and it won’t stay hot for long!”
“Oh, I’m ready and Kaelus is about to get dressed,” Clair said eagerly. “In fact, let me come with you while he dresses—maybe I can help set the table.”
“Well all right.” Maera gave her an uncertain look. “But don’t you want to dress your husband first? I mean, he clearly dressed you—should you not return the favor?”
“Oh, um…sure,” Clair nodded uncertainly.
“Go ahead.” Maera waved one hand at Kaelus, who was just standing there, still wrapped in a towel. “Get him dressed. I’ll wait.”
So…was she just going to watch, Clair wondered? It appeared that she was.
For several long seconds, nobody moved. Maera stood beside the door with her hands folded patiently in front of her, looking perfectly serene, while Kaelus stood in the middle of the bedroom wearing nothing, but a large black towel wrapped around his narrow hips.
Droplets of water still clung to his broad shoulders and ran in lazy little trails down his muscular chest and ridged abdomen before disappearing beneath the towel.
Clair found herself watching one particularly adventurous drop make its way down the dark line of hair below his navel before she realized where she was looking and jerked her gaze hastily upward.
Unfortunately, Kaelus had noticed. His golden eyes narrowed but Clair ignored him.
“Well?” Maera prompted pleasantly. “You should hurry or the goosenburly will get cold.”
“Right. Of course.” Clair put down her detangling comb and looked at Kaelus. “Come on then, honey. Let’s get you dressed.”
“I am perfectly capable of dressing myself,” he growled.
Maera gasped and Clair closed her eyes briefly. Oh, for the love of God.
When she opened them again, Maera was looking at Kaelus with the same expression she might have worn if he had just announced his intention to kick a puppy.
“You would deny your goddess the pleasure of adorning her own husband?” she asked.
Kaelus looked completely baffled.
“Adorning me?”
“Of course.” Maera nodded. “A husband chooses garments which will please and flatter his goddess, and she does the same for him. Each is a reflection of the other. Surely you do not simply dress yourselves independently every morning?”
Kaelus and Clair exchanged a glance.
“Of course not,” Clair said quickly.
“At times,” Kaelus began at the exact same moment.
Clair elbowed him and he grunted and gave her a look.
“What my darling husband means,” she said brightly, “is that sometimes our work schedules are different, and we have to get ready at different times. But when we’re together…” She smiled up at him with every ounce of fake marital devotion she could muster. “Why, I just love dressing my big guy.”
Kaelus looked down at her. One black eyebrow rose and Clair widened her smile.
Do not contradict me, you big jerk! she thought at him.
Something in her expression must have gotten the message across because he merely grunted again.
“Very well,” he said.
“Wonderful!” Maera exclaimed. “Then please, go ahead.”
Clair stared at her and Maera smiled. Apparently, she really was going to watch. There really was no privacy on Titus Four.
Well, there was nothing she could do about it—they would just have to go through with her “dressing her husband.”
“Okay then.” Clair rubbed her palms together and turned toward the clothing Kaelus had laid out on a nearby bench. “Let’s see what we have here.”
There wasn’t much choice. Kaelus, unlike Clair, apparently packed with military efficiency.
There were several pairs of dark trousers folded with mathematical precision, along with black and charcoal shirts, a few fitted tunics, and a few pairs of black underpants. She picked up a pair of the underpants.
“These.”
Kaelus nodded.
“Acceptable.”
“Oh, good. I’m so relieved I have your approval,” she said dryly. She was still irritated with him for the way things had ended between them the night before.
“You selected a pair identical to every other pair,” Kaelus pointed out.
“They are not identical.” Clair held them up. “These have a slightly different seam.”
“They are identical,” he growled.
She pointed a finger at him.
“Don’t argue with your goddess, sugar-booger.”
Maera nodded approvingly.
Kaelus closed his eyes, a look of irritation passing over his face and Clair had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
“All right.” She handed him the trousers. “Put these on.”
Maera frowned, giving Clair a horrified look.
Clair froze.
“What?” she asked.
“You are dressing him,” Maera reminded her.
Clair looked at the underpants uncertainly and then back to their hostess.
“Yes. I picked his pants.”
“Exactly, my dear, but you must put them on him,” Maera said.
Clair stared at her. Then she looked at Kaelus. He looked back.
“No,” they said together.
Maera looked surprised.
“You refuse to dress your husband?”
Clair cleared her throat.
“There are certain boundaries in Kindred mating customs,” she said quickly. “The, er, undergarment portion of dressing is considered private.”
Maera looked confused.
“But you are husband and wife.”
“Yes, but…it’s a kind of, uh, ceremonial privacy,” Clair improvised. “Very sacred. A Kindred warrior must put on his own underpants without anyone witnessing him doing it.”
Beside her, Kaelus made a sound suspiciously like a cough and Clair shot him a warning look.
“Oh.” Maera considered this. “I would not wish to offend a sacred Kindred tradition. Shall I turn my back while he puts on his lower garments?”
“That would be wonderful,” Clair said fervently.
Maera obligingly turned toward the door and Kaelus immediately grabbed the trousers from Clair.