“Just us.” His thumb draws circles over my knuckles.
Considering I have a crow in my bedroom and need to hunt down three more, plus grab the dish-shaped one in the trophy room, I deem it wise not to make any promises.
He tucks another flyaway behind my ear. “No trouble, all right, Fallon the Charmer?”
“You make me sound like a sorceress.”
“Would explain why I’m under your spell.”
I roll my eyes. “A minute ago, you wanted to strangle me.”
“And now I want to kiss you.”
My eyes widen as I angle them every which way to see if any of the other Fae on the boat are watching. The two steering are focused on the looming Tarecuorin islands and the two at the rear have their backs to us, busy scanning the ocean for threats.
“Forget anyone’s around.”
Beyond his shoulder, I catch sight of another boat—Silvius’s. “The commander’s watching us.”
Dante tosses a look over his shoulder before refocusing on me. “Creep.”
One of the many things that man is . . . Others are: nasty, disrespectful, and sycophantic.
Dante clutches the sides of my face and tips it so it’s perfectly leveled with his. “Forget him, Fal.”
Easier said than done. “What of your reputation?”
“You’re part Fae. Not to mention, the general’s granddaughter. You’re hardly an improper companion.”
“So I don’t need to be your dirty little secret?”
He smiles, then moves that smile closer to me. Scrapes it across my lips. “Only if you want to be.”
“No.”
He chuckles softly, and the sound hardens my nipples and shortens my breaths. When he slants his head and coaxes my lips apart, I toss all societal fetters and primness to the wind and open myself to him.
After all, I’m kissing my now-and-forever, the man who captured my heart in the shadows of Tarelexo.
My lids flutter closed as my body softens against his. Although he doesn’t scoot closer, he’s all I feel, all I taste, all I smell. His breath becomes the air in my lungs, and his hands, the only things keeping my body from swaying into his. He cradles my jaw between his pillowy palms.
His skin is so soft.
So much softer than mine.
So much softer than Antoni’s.
My blood heats and beats as the memory of what I almost did last night floods my irises. Thank the Cauldron I refused Antoni’s advances, or remorse would be gnawing at my conscience. I decide that, before Dante and I part ways, I will tell him about the kiss because I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.
Any more than necessary, that is.
Although my body remains with Dante, my mind wanders to the crows. More precisely, to the one in the castle. If I asked him to retrieve the crow-dish, would he?
A wave hits the boat, bowling our heads together and clinking our teeth. We break apart, laughing like two schoolchildren who’ve just shared an awkward first kiss.
His eyes are so blue, his teeth so white, his lips so full and pink. This man is the epitome of male perfection, the benchmark against which I’ve measured every other man in my life and will keep measuring them.
To think he’s mine.
