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I struggled to calm my breath as we approached Graham’s mansion, my heart thumping under the lapels of my uniform. I would be taking a huge risk. Even if the exchange went as Ihoped, I had to remain completely blameless in Cael’s eyes to be sure he’d fulfill his end of the deal and take me to the arsenal.
And my heart pounded for another reason: Graham was near.
As we pulled up to the Second House, he looked through the carriage window at me, pushing his rich dark hair off his forehead. He grinned as he reached up and pointed to the space above his lip with amusement.
I’d almost forgotten I wore a humiliating mustache and looked more like Cael than myself. I sank into my seat, pulling the curtain shut, though Graham’s teasing smile still shone in my vision.
Graham climbed in when the carriage stopped, his smile erupting into a chuckle. He sat across from me, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “You’re quite the chameleon, aren’t you?”
“I wish. But unfortunately, I’m a Law Enforcer instead,” I said in my deep breathy voice.
Graham laughed. “If I hadn’t already seen your hair short, I might’ve not recognized you like this.”
“Why, thank you,” I said. “Good to hear it.”
He moved closer to the edge of his seat—closer to me. “The truth is, I would recognize you anywhere. In fact, when I first returned, I think I saw you in the street. I was certain I was hallucinating at the time, seeing your face everywhere.”
“You did see me.” I leaned forward, bringing my face closer to his. I was dying to kiss him, but I wouldn’t do it here. Or with a mustache on.
“I thought so.” He smiled. “It’s a solid disguise, but you’re just a littletoobeautiful.”
The carriage lurched forward, the jolt pushing Graham so close to me that our noses touched.
I pulled in a breath as he did the same.
He turned his blue eyes toward my lips, his hand lifting off his knee and moving to my face. He touched a single finger to my mustache and suppressed a laugh.
“What?” I asked. “Mustaches aren’t your thing?”
He moved his finger below the mustache and over my top lip, pausing right at my mouth before he moved to my bottom lip, pulling it down just enough to render me helpless.
“Typically not,” he said softly, “but I may have a single exception.”
My mouth opened.
His lashes were still turned downward, his head tilted, as if judging the mustache—but his finger wandered over my bottom lip, tracing the shape of my mouth as if memorizing every centimeter. Suddenly, he reached over to the curtain that had been left open, pulling it closed with a flick of the wrist, darkening the carriage and hiding us from the outside world.
He turned back to me, but it didn’t feel like he was looking at my mustache anymore.
His hand slid to my jaw, the other rising up my neck into my cropped hair, pulling me into him so my lips landed squarely on his.
He wasn’t shy this time. He gripped me with a passion that told me he’d been longing for me as much as I’d been longing for him. I embraced every sensation, becoming more aware with each second that this could be the last time I tasted his lips, the last time we had a moment alone.
My hands traveled up the sleeves of his coat, feeling the firm strength of his arms through the smooth fabric. At his shoulders, my hand slipped under the collar of his jacket, where only a thin shirt kept his skin from mine. My fingers roved over his neck and through his hair.
“Your touch has a way of emptying my head of all reason,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t want you like this.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“You know why, Mara.”
Because I betrayed you. Because I’m lying to you. Because I’m leaving you.
I didn’t want to say the words out loud and bring him to stop touching me, but the unspoken reasons lingered in the air between us all the same.
“You have far too much power over me,” he said.
“You’re the one with all the power,” I said.
