He looks toward the window, and my heart breaks. Desperate, I roll up on my knees and grab his hands.
He goes tense immediately, his mouth a line. “Truly, Jory. I should leave.”
“Asher. Please.”
He looks down at my fingers wrapped around his gloved ones. Since the day he was taken away, this might be the longest he’s ever let me touch him.
My heart beats so hard. I can’t bear the thought of this being our final moment together. “If I’m never going to see you again, I wish...I wish you’d stay. Please.Please.”
His shoulders are fixed and rigid, his eyes locked on our hands. He’s going to refuse. I can feel it. Asher never stays long, and he hasn’t stopped talking about how it would’ve been better if he hadn’t come at all.
But then he sighs, and the sound of his breath is like a balm. “I’ll stay. Lie down.”
I’m so startled that I bounce on the bed like a little girl who’s just been promised a bowl of sugared berries. “What? Really?”
He tsks under his breath. “Be a good princess, or you won’t get what you want.”
I pout at him, then slither down beneath the covers, tucking the quilts up to my chin.
“Roll over,” he says. “Face the window.”
The gentle command in his tone makes me shiver in an entirely new way. I don’t realize I’m still staring at him until he raises an eyebrow and adds, “Now, Jor.”
A curl of heat forms in my belly as I obey, turning to face the window. My skin feels charged, making me very aware of every thread in my sleeping shift. When Asher lies down behind me, it’s so unexpected that my amusement simply vanishes. His arm comes around my waist, over the blankets—because of course he wouldn’t risk trapping himself under the covers. But he tucks me against him, and his breath is sudden and warm against the back of my neck. My body goes very still, frozen in place, as if my heart refuses to believe this moment is real.
But Asher must notice my tension, because he draws back a bit. “Is this all right?”
I nod fiercely, and he laughs, low and soft against my skin. I relax into him, feeling the hard muscle of his body, the edges of his weapons, even through my layers of blankets.
We might have kissed when we were teenagers, but he’s never held me before. Not likethis. Not as a man holds a woman.
I reach for the hand that’s fallen against my waist, and I tug gently at his glove. This time he does pull away, his fingers curling, resisting.
I let go at once. “I’m sorry,” I murmur.
He says nothing, but his breathing slows against my hair. After a moment, he begins to draw back fully, shifting away from my body.
I feel the absence of him instantly. “No! Asher, please—forgive me—”
“Shh.” That gloved hand goes over my mouth, but gently.
I turn in the bed so I can look up at him. He’s propped on one arm, his hand still over my mouth. Those blue eyes stare down into mine.
“Why won’t you ever let me touch you?” I whisper against his fingers.
For an instant, his eyes shutter, going dark, revealing nothing. But then his still-gloved thumb brushes over my lips. He’s staring at my mouth like a starving man desperate for a meal. Half his body is against mine, and I suddenly realize it’s not just weapons I’m feeling. Heat blooms in my abdomen, and I shift my weight, sliding my legs against each other. He inhales deeply.
“Asher,” I whisper, drawing out his name like a plea. He’s gone still, so I take hold of his wrist, tugging at the glove again. This time, he lets me. Suddenly, his hand is bare: long, tapered fingers, short nails, velvet soft skin. I press his palm to my cheek, and when his thumb brushes over my lip, I shudder. My breathing has quickened, and I want to drag his hand lower. I want his touch everywhere. I’m desperate for the taste of him.
I have the satisfaction of hearing his breath tremble, just a bit. His lips part, and so do mine, ready and willing.
But then he says, “No.”
I hold my breath, because I couldn’t possibly have heard him correctly. My body is frozen, staring up at him. “You don’t want me?”
He closes his eyes and inhales. He’s so close that I can hear the desire in his breath. “It’s not a matter ofwant.”
“Then why?”
