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“I’ll do it,” she whispered.
“Oh, good,” he said. “But I’d get more satisfaction knowing what.” He gave her that gorgeous, crooked smile and her heart soared to the moons and stars.
I love you, she thought. But the realization was too huge to fit into her mind along with everything else, so she set it aside to examine later.
For now, Verve skimmed her fingertips along his jawline, savoring the scrape of stubble. His eyes lidded, then he looked at her, a question on his face. She brushed her thumb against his soft lips, steeling herself. “Next time warring mages bring their fighting too close, I’ll…” She bit back a groan. “Try to talk to them before I kill them.”
His smile broadened, dazzling, and her spirit glowed in reply. “Thank you, Verve,” he murmured. His lips brushed hers as he spoke. “You won’t regret it.”
“Don’t say that.” She inhaled the scent of jessamin blossoms and drew him closer.
The kiss was soft, searching, more a question than an answer; a shared breath. Alem met her eyes again. “What should I say instead?”
“Nothing,” she replied, and pressed her lips to his.
Fire raced through each vein, each nerve. His stubble scraped deliciously against her skin as her palms slid along the muscles of his arms. Alem gripped her waist, her back, and deepened the kiss. Verve’s body melted into his, flowing over him like rain over parched earth. When they parted to breathe, he cupped her cheek in one hand, using his thumb to smooth away her tears.
“You have no idea,” he breathed, “how much I’ve wanted to do that.”
She gently bumped her nose against his, further smearing the paint. His whiskers were only smudges; she probably wore them now, too. “You talk too much.”
“My deepest apologies,” he said, and pulled her into another kiss.
