“Idola.” She hated the guilty sound of her voice and strove to subdue it. “What are you doing out here?” Her sister gave her a snide “caught you” smile. “Mother sent me, but not because she suspected such an intimate tête-à-tête.” The smile disappeared. “There is trouble at the market and you’re needed.” Kayli tried, and failed, to put space between Michael and her. His hold was so secure that Idola couldn’t miss it. It was a hold of possession, and protection. But Michael couldn’t shield her from her sister’s perception of things. “Trouble? Where we set up for men to volunteer?” “Yes.” Idola shrugged one bare, rounded shoulder. “Some of the women protest because they don’t want their men involved with the ugliness of defense.” She tilted her head, studying Michael’s embrace with critical disdain. “You should go, and quickly, before things turn more violent.”
