Panicloomsattheedges of Rominy’s mind as he stares at the growing red stain marring the torn sleeve of Elowyn’s gown.
“I’m bleeding?” She glances at her arm. “Ah. That’s unfortunate. All over my new gown.”
Her gown? Who cares about her gown? He can buy her as many new gowns as she thinks she needs.
Before he can respond, their guards hurry them toward a nearby hotel, and Rominy tries not to let the bloodstain expanding on Elowyn’s sleeve upend his waffles.
He barely processes the words his guards exchange with the hotel clerk, and soon he and Elowyn are alone in a guest room while someone fetches a doctor.
“Rominy,” she says softly.
He tears his gaze from the blood to her gray eyes. Why can’t he get enough air? It feels as though he’s suffocating.
She steps toward him, and he struggles to take a breath.
“Rominy.”
“I can’t...I can’t—”
Resting her hand against his chest, she looks into his eyes. “Breathe with me.”
“I—”
“Slowly. In...and out.”
He shakes his head. “I need...I can’t...that man—”
“I’m barely hurt. I will be fine. If it weren’t true, I wouldn’t be able to say it.”
“But—”
“Do you feel my heart beating along with yours? Focus on the rhythm. Feel it slowing. Growing steady. And breathe with me.”
Her heartbeat. It’s there, perfectly in sync with his. “I...I feel it.”
“Good. Now slow breaths. Together.”
With his attention on the beating of their hearts and her steady breathing, he manages to quell his panic and find his head again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he looks down at her.
“You have nothing for which to be sorry.”
“But you got hurt. I should have protected you better. Assigned you more guards. And now you’re bleeding and—”
His words cut off when she slides her hand behind his neck and pulls him into a kiss, and every thought screaming in his head scatters.
She kissed him.
She’s still kissing him.
Stars above.
Of their own accord, his hands slide around her waist, and he tugs her closer. She’s hot everywhere she touches him—hot but not burning. It’s a comforting warmth that banishes the chill gripping him and ignites a fire all his own deep within him.
And she tastes like sparks with a faint smokiness he can’t even begin to understand or explain.
Every inch of him aches for more of this. More of her.
