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Pulling the jute ribbon from the package, she tried to recall the last time anyone had given her a gift. No tape was used to wrap the bundle, but a tea towel was folded neatly inside the brown paper.
She frowned. Was this more pressure toward a domestic future of servitude? Unfolding the towel, a note fluttered to the floor along with a pile of pink lace. Several modern hairpins scattered across the wood planks.
Confused, she lifted the pink lace and laughed. “Is this traditional Amish as well?”
Christian turned and his eyes widened. “That’s…” He scowled. “Was that in the package?”
“Yup.” She twirled the hot pink panties around on her finger, loving whatever this was doing to him. “And you said the bishop’s wife sent this over?”
He muttered something under his breath in a different language.
Delilah retrieved the handwritten note.
Hello friend,
My sisters and I thought these items might be of some use. The underthings are from Destiny, the pins from myself. Anna has volunteered to find you decent shoes, but first, she needs your size. The females are working on new dresses and aprons so you will have your own. Do you have a preference in color?
We look forward to meeting you in person and becoming great friends. Congratulations on your mating! Welcome to your new home. May the years ahead be filled with happiness and love.
Best wishes,
Larissa King
Wife to Bishop Eleazar King
An odd sensation settled over her. How had she formed an alliance with women she’d never met? Women didn’t typically care for her as a general rule, which was why she was prone to having male friends.
Delilah examined the lace bra. It wasn’t her size but it was close, and she loved it regardless. These wonderful women didn’t even know her, yet they thought enough about her to go out of their way and send her a gift—a sexy unexpected gift.
Her brow pinched with confusion. “These women are Amish?”
Before Christian answered, she sensed his disapproval. As he leaned close to examine the note, she protectively tightened her grip on the gift, afraid he might take it from her. He read the note and his proximity immediately awakened her awareness of him. His scent drew her in and the sight of his strong hands filled her with visions of him groping her under the pink lace—
His gaze cut to hers, dark intentions clear in his silver stare. “Did you want to meet the females or spend the day in bed, pintura?” The side of his mouth kicked up. “You’re projecting quite a distracting image.”
Cheeks heating, she dropped her gaze and buried the lingerie in the lap of her chemise. “I want to meet the other women.”
He studied her, communicating that visiting others wouldn’t have been his first choice, then he returned his gaze to the letter. “Two are newly transitioned. Their mates allow them too many liberties. Sister Larissa perhaps spent too much time away from the farm. I should alert the bishop of this.”
“Or not.”
“Excuse me?”
“Christian, these women reached out to me with a gift. If you get them in trouble, they’ll think I had something to do with it and then they’ll never accept me.”
His gaze lifted, a strange glimmer of hope in his eye. “That’s the first time you’ve spoken as if you intend to stay.”
“I just meant that they won’t like me if their thoughtful gesture gets them in trouble. Don’t be a narc.”
“A narc?”
“Yeah, a narc. An informant. No one likes a narc.”
“I’m an elder. I have a responsibility to The Council.”
She lifted her chin. “I thought you said I was your greatest responsibility.”
His gaze sharpened and his voice lowered. “You’re playing with me, pintura.”
“Am I wrong?”
His jaw twitched. “No, you’re not wrong. As my mate, you’re my priority.”
Her grin was slow and triumphant. “Then don’t be a dick and tattle on my friends.”
His stare darkened as his brows slammed down. “I don’t appreciate that language.”
“And I don’t appreciate a snitch. So, you hush, and I won’t call you a dick. Will you take me to meet them?”
He drew in a long breath. Their delicate truce seemed reliant on an unspoken give-and-take, a tit-for-tat agreement. Every advance was followed by a concession, sort of like chess. “You’ll have to dress appropriately.”
She lifted her hand, the hot pink lace dangling from her finger. “In this?”
He cleared his throat. “I was referring to the bonnet.”
She gave the fabric a twirl. “So, you don’t want to see me in this?”
“Are you offering?”
With a quick twist of her wrist, she gathered the material in her fist. “Nope.” Hopping off the bed, she crossed the room and held open the door. “I’d like some privacy.”
He hesitated a moment, then set the bonnet on the bed next to the puke-colored dress. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
She swung the door shut.
It truly was amazing how much more…solid she felt since waking. Her energy was bottomless, like she’d had thirteen B-12 shots. Her mind was sharper and her fatigue had completely vanished. Not only was the lethargy gone, she felt stronger than usual…pluckier. She was still adjusting to her heightened senses, which was a little like acclimating to an acid trip, but she was getting used to all the additional noises and distractions.
