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“A touch must convey the right sentiment,” he said.
“You’re not letting me in. I can’t read what this pinkie touch means. Please tell me. Open your mind to me so I don’t have to beg.”
“You’re begging?”
“You know I am.”
“Niawen, it’s not a good idea.” His facial expression, the fervor in his eyes, the crease of his eyebrow, the almost indecipherable shake of his head pleaded with me not to make him open up.
I didn’t soften. “You better have a good reason.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” He paced on his side of the room, glancing at me and looking away again and again. “You can’t see the flush of your cheeks, the forceful way you hold yourself. The rise of your chest with each inhalation before you fire your words in my direction. The way your sleeve slips back from your delicate wrists as you gesture wildly at me. You carry so much fire, but your eyes are desperate.”
“Do you want to see desperate?” I charged around the end of the bed.
Caedryn backed away and lifted his hand. “Please, Niawen, stay back.”
Frustrated, I bellowed, “I’m sleeping in my own room!”
“Let me explain. You deserve an explanation. I just didn’t want to tell you.”
“We couldn’t carry on like this forever.” Please, free me from purgatory.
“No, we couldn’t. But I thought you’d be patient.”
“I’ve never been patient.”
He smiled. “I know, woman, I know. I was hoping you’d sense I needed your patience.”
He needed me to be patient with him? Oh. Oh. Oh. I’m so foolish. I was pressuring him too much, too fast. “I’m so sorry.” I turned away, ashamed, and rubbed my forehead. Why was I determined to force his hand?
“So how do I phrase this without horrifying you?” He stepped closer. I felt him—his heat, his emotion and waves of his essence.
I urged myself to remain calm as I faced him. “You can’t horrify me. Just say it.”
His eyes raged. I had cracked his control—the stoic, passive indifference he flung at me daily. “Fine! It’s just… I can’t believe you’re forcing the truth out of me!”
What did I do?
His words fell with panicked breaths. “This is a conversation for lovers, for those who’ve spoken for each other. For those who’ve bonded.”
The heat in the room jumped several degrees.
For lovers. I was deep in a dragon’s den filled with flaming hatchlings. Too late. I plowed ahead. “I don’t care. I don’t cower from intimate details.”
“Yes, you aren’t delicate.”
I stared Caedryn down. I forced light into my eyes until I was sure they burned like wicked embers.
Caedryn’s mouth opened slowly after he tore his eyes away from mine. “You’ll abhor me when I tell you.”
“Out with it! You are killing me.”
He only nodded. Once. And then swallowed. “When I express love, it’s more forceful, more impassioned than I intend.” He took a breath. “Bordering on violent.”
His words doused my fire. “What do you mean?”
“Violent passion.” Caedryn kept his eyes on the thick carpet. “You couldn’t understand. No, you haven’t been with a man.” He swiped his brow. “Please, don’t make me tell you more. You shouldn’t hear this.”
