Idan froze.
He closed his eyes, leaning just a fraction into her hand before catching himself.
She withdrew, flushing, exhaling into the high-tension silence as his sigils glowed a soft, involuntary gold.
‘Give me a task,’ she muttered, turning away from his beauty. ‘I’m losing my mind in this cottage, gorgeous though it may be.’
Idan paused, his gaze lingering on her face before his jaw ticked and he nodded toward the hearth.
You can help me with dinner, tend the vegetable garden, and perhaps also keep the fire banked.
The flames he’d left burning in the morning were now a much smaller pile of dying coals.
He moved to a stack of timber piled in precise, interlocking triangles and pulled out a short length of oak.
Sheba hesitated. ‘Show me, please. On Dunia, my father handled the hearth. He never bothered to show me the mechanics of it.’
Idan knelt by the granite lip of the fireplace, gesturing for her to join him.
Taking his time, he demonstrated how to rake the ash out, lay down the logs, and set wood chips and twigs under the larger blocks.
He got her to throw kindling over it, ignite matchsticks on the hearth, and light the entire setup.
As the flames rose, Sheba clapped her hands together. ‘I did it!’
She was so pleased that Idan’s lips curved into a rare beam, making him even more impossibly handsome.
‘You should smile more,’ she told him, still lost in her gleeful triumph.
He huffed, reaching for another log from his intricately designed pile.
‘Do you cut them yourself?’ she asked, eyes on the callouses on his palms, catching the light.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he spoke his first words since he came home.
‘Not me. I have a deal with a stroppy mountain gremlin. He crawls out from between the tectonic plates once a month to chop my winter supply.’
Sheba blinked, her expression frozen in genuine confusion as she searched his face for the truth, then, realizing he was having her on, she cursed. ‘Fokkoff.’
He let out a resonant laugh that vibrated in the small room. ‘Of course I cut my own wood, Sheba.’
She gave in to the moment with a snicker, and he chuckled.
The humor died away, replaced by an abrupt, heavy stillness as their gazes locked.
The air between them thickened, pulsing with a savage, sudden desire that made the blood rush to her face.
The heat in her cheeks felt unrelated to the hearth.
She surged to her feet, fanning her face with a frantic hand. ‘It’s too freakin’ hot in here. The fire is too much.’
Idan’s expression softened. ‘Go outside. Grab the leather bellows I left by the external pit. The mountain air will cool you down.’
Sheba fled through the thick wooden door.
The transition from the stifling cabin to the alpine night hit her like a physical wall. She reached the stone pit and stopped.
Above, the sky transformed into a riot of celestial violence.
