I wouldn’t.
By the time evening arrived, everyone else had gone home and the facility was quiet.
I found Laina in her office, pacing. Three steps to the window, turn, three steps back to the desk. Her phone sat face up on her desk, its screen dark but clearly guilty of something.
“How many texts?” I asked from the doorway.
She stopped mid-turn. “Three. No, four. She’s gearing herself up and wants to know about proper facilities and whether I’m being sensible about my work hours.”
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing yet.” She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know how to explain this place to someone who’s never chosen anything that didn’t fit neatly into her idea of acceptable.”
“Then don’t explain it. Show her the twins standing by their mother. Cooper flying for the first time since he was injured. Duchess Filandra’s regal contempt for breakfast timing.” I tugged her into my arms and curled forward to rest my chin on the top of her head. “Show her that you belong somewhere you chose, not somewhere you inherited.”
She rested her hands on my chest. “What if she doesn’t see it the way I do?”
“Then she’s wrong.” I covered her hands with my own. “You’ve built something here. Whatever your mother thinks doesn’t change that.”
Laina’s eyes searched my face. “You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not, but it’s worth defending.”
“What are we defending exactly?”
“This.” I slid my fingers to the nape of her neck. “Whatever this is. Whatever it’s becoming. Something I want to keep.”
She rose on her toes, and we kissed.
It started slow. I angled her head and deepened it, tasting tea and want and the small sound she made when I turned and pressed her back against the desk.
Her hands slid from my chest to my shoulders, gripping hard. I wrapped my arm around her waist and lifted, settling her on the desk edge. She made a small sound of surprise that turned into something else when I stepped between her knees.
This wasn’t the rushed discovery of yesterday. This was deliberate. A choice we were both making with clear minds and open eyes.
Her fingers found my hair, tugging me closer, and I kissed along her jaw to the spot beneath her ear that made her breath hitch. My tusks grazed her skin and she shivered.
“Brovish—”
“Yes?”
“We’re in my office.”
“We are, and a nice office it is.” I kissed her throat. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Absolutely not.”
Her legs wrapped around my hips, pulling me flush against her, and rational thought became a distant concept. My hands slid from her waist to her thighs, where I traced patterns that made her squirm.
She pulled my mouth back to hers, kissing me hard. Her hands moved from my hair to my shoulders, then lower, tracing muscle through my shirt.
“This is better than I imagined.”
“You imagined this?”
“Since yesterday? Constantly.”
I kissed her again, deeper, pouring every unspoken thing into it.
