The Bed You Make
Chapter 7
“I apologize for Marcus.”
Stefan raised a brow. “You have no need to apologize. An encounter with the detective was inevitable at this point. Despite his many flaws, he is a loyal friend who wished to ascertain for himself that you were unharmed and with me of your own free will.”
“Still,” Dara shook her head, “he shouldn't have used his authority that way.”
“On the contrary, I applaud the detective's willingness to use all the tools available to him.”
“Somehow that doesn't surprise me. Speaking of questionable tactics,” Dara reached into her purse and retrieved her driver's license, “would you like to tell me exactly how you accomplished this without my knowledge or my consent?”
Stefan glanced at the small plastic square Dara held. “The adjustment to your driver's permit was made with your full consent. Given ,” he anticipated her objection, “the day you were occupied with selecting a wardrobe from the variety of vendors in Wyndemere's ballroom.”
Dara glared at her new husband. “That was situational consent!” she argued.
“I do not recall you stipulating it as such.”
“Then let me correct my oversight,” Dara uttered through clenched teeth. “From now on, I make decisions about me.”
“Very well,” Stefan replied equably. “When possible, I shall allow you to do so.”
Dara shifted so that she could see Stefan better. The deeply tinted windows of the limousine left him in the shadows with only the rhythmic flash of overhead streetlights illuminating his face. “Sometimes,” Dara mused, “I think you make statements like that just to provoke me.”
“To what end?”
“So that you can observe my reactions. Working in the legal system has proven to me that there is no better gauge of a person's character than their instinctive, uncontrolled reactions to situations.”
“You attach far too much subtext to my statements. I said that I will allow you to make your own decisions when possible because I am aware – far more than you – that there will be occasions when such a courtesy will not be possible.” Stefan angled his face Dara's way. “Dealing with Helena and the trustees of the Cassadine endowments is often a lesson in illusion. A familiar hand is required to guide you safely through the waters.”
Dara mulled over her new husband's words. “A lesson in illusion… My favorite law professor used to say something very similar to that when he taught about the practice of law. He said that the best lawyers take whatever they have and make it seem like whatever they want.” Dara shrugged. “I think that applies to you as well, Stefan. Oh, not all the time, but… Do you play poker? I learned to play,” Dara continued, “from that same professor. He was my mentor.” Fond memories made her smile softly.
Stefan blinked at the abrupt change of conversation. “You and I will have to play sometime, Stefan. Unlike chess, which is all about the game, poker is all about the players. And the winner is usually the person who discovers his opponents' unconscious signals the quickest.” Dara paused. “Even the best poker players have unconscious signals. If you observe them carefully enough you'll learn what they are.”
“For the record, husband , you aren't the only student of human nature in this marriage. I have been doing a bit of observation myself. And you, Stefan Cassadine, are a fascinating subject.”
Dara settled back against the leather seat. She was not surprised that the remainder of the ride to the docks was a silent one. By claiming the growing ability to ‘read' Stefan, Dara had given her new husband something to think about.
The thought made her smile.
