I glared at him. “You were looking at me!”
“I was merely seeing that you were alright.”
“By looking through the keyhole?”
“There wasn’t a window.”
“You could have knocked and asked!”
“But then I wouldn’t have had such a long look.”
I squirmed in his hold. “You have a long hold of me, too!”
“I try to please.”
“Let me go!”
“Very well.”
The tone in his voice made me immediately regret my choice of words. He yanked his arm from around me, and I dropped toward the hard, tiled floor. A tough lesson in verbiage would have been learned if he hadn’t caught my hand and pulled me up against him.
I tilted my head back and found myself staring into his bright eye. Even after such an ordeal as he’d gone through yesterday, he still looked perfectly handsome. A faint blush accented my cheeks.
He leaned down and captured my lips in a gentle kiss. I gripped the front of his shirt as my heart pounded in my chest. His beating heart was as smooth as ice.
A loud pounding from my door broke us out of our reverie, and he reluctantly drew away to glare at the portal. Ramaro’s voice shouted through the wood. “It’s been ten minutes! Are you coming or what?”
“We’re coming,” Marc yelled back.
“What are you doing in there?” Ramaro snapped, and the next moment the doorknob rattled. The door failed to open, and a soft kerplunk came from the floor at the bottom of the door. “Blast these slick things!”
“Come on,” Marc commanded as he kept his grip on my hand and led me to the door.
“But I’m not done,” I protested.
He paused in front of the entrance and looked me over. “You look perfect, and Ramaro’s waiting.”
Marc opened the door, and Ramaro tumbled onto the bathroom floor. He scrambled to his feet and flicked his tongue in our direction. “You told me you’d be out in ten minutes!”
I snorted. “That’s what you wanted me to promise you, and I did try-”
“But she was distracted by a rat peeping at her, or so she told me,” Marc spoke up as he sidled us around the agama. “But we should get going before Gisela offers us dinner, and I know the perfect place to eat on our first night in Cathair.”
Ramaro spun around to follow us. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He tapped the spot below his left eye. “Somebody’s going to notice that again, and your patch isn’t loose enough to use that wind.”
Marc grabbed my large overcoat and swung it over my shoulders. “Somebody’s going to notice you, which is why you need to get into the pouch.”
The lizard wrinkled his snout. “I wasn’t the one they recognized last night.”
“No sense taking any risks,” Marc insisted as he helped me into the strap.
Ramaro flicked his tongue. “Not until I have to, and what are you doing to hide that huge flag on your face?”
“Like this.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a black handkerchief, which he tied at an angle over his patch. “See?”
Ramaro’s face drooped. “It looks like you’re trying to hide something.”
“Then I’ll think up a good yarn to entertain whoever asks about it,” Marc countered as he picked up Ramaro by the armpits and dumped him into the pouch. “Now let’s get out of here before-”
