She caught the front of his wet coat and pulled him back to her.
The second kiss belonged to them both. His restraint broke without becoming haste; one arm went around her, drawing her against him, while her hand remained closed in his coat. He made a low sound against her mouth, half surprise and half laughter, and she felt herself answer it.
When they parted, neither went far. Selina rested her forehead briefly against his chest, listening to his heart beneath the wet layers of his clothing. His hand moved once along her back before settling between her shoulder blades.
Outside, the rain softened.
“There is something I ought to tell you,” Nathaniel said.
“That is rarely a promising beginning.”
“I love you.”
She became still within his arms.
He did not tighten them.
“I had not intended to say it today,” he continued. “Certainly not while wet through in a building my grandfather erected because he disliked walking back to the house for shelter. But it is true, and I have promised you no lies.”
“How long?”
“Long enough that I have ceased to find the fact surprising.”
Selina kept her hand against his chest.
“You need not answer,” he said. “I did not tell you in order to obtain the same words in return.”
“The last person I loved was hanged.”
Nathaniel said nothing.
“I know the comparison is neither fair nor sensible,” she continued. “But fairness and sense have very little authority over fear. I have not used the word easily since.”
“Then do not use it until it is true and you are willing.”
She lifted her head. “I am not saying no.”
“I know.”
“How can you?”
“Because you have never had difficulty saying no to me.”
A reluctant smile touched her mouth.
“Not yet,” she said.
“Then not yet.”
He bent and kissed her forehead, asking nothing further of her. Selina closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself to remain where she was.
“You are shivering,” he said presently.
“So are you.”
“I was attempting to ignore it.”
“You were composing a dignified way to mention it.”