The whole day. Alone with him in the archives. After yesterday’s kisses. After this morning’s…discovery.
This was alright. I was a professional. I could absolutely spend an entire day with my devastatingly attractive husband without thinking about how he’d groaned my name while he?—
Snow began falling from the ceiling.
Noting it, Raoul raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry.” I waved my hand, dissolving the snow before it could accumulate. “Just a little excess magic. I’m excited, so it’s, um, coming out of me. Notcoming, but well…” I need to stop right now.
“Not a problem. Eat. You’ll need your energy for going through centuries of data.”
I focused on my breakfast, keeping my gaze on my plate instead of on Raoul’s hands. Because looking at his hands made me think about what those hands had been doingthis morning and thinking about that made my magic go haywire.
You’re being ridiculous,Fletcher said.
I’m being professional.
You’re creating random weather phenomena because you can’t stop thinking about your new husband.
I hate you sometimes,I said with a droop of my shoulders.
No, you don’t. You love me dearly, as dearly as I love you.
You’re right. Sorry.
Just relax. Enjoy the day. Whatever’s bothering you will still be there tonight to keep you from sleeping.
I gave him a rueful look.Thanks.
Anytime.
“The archives are on the second level,” Raoul said between bites of bread. “They’re temperature and humidity controlled to preserve the documents, so you’ll find the environment quite comfortable for extended research.”
“That’s excellent planning.” I latched onto the safe topic. “Proper preservation is essential for historical documents. Do you use magical climate control?”
“Yes, it was set up eons ago.”
We discussed preservation techniques through the rest of breakfast, and I managed to get through it without creating any more inappropriate weather or thinking about…that. By the time we’d finished, I’d almost convinced myself I could act normally around him.
Then he stood and offered his hand to help me up, and the moment his fingers closed around mine, a warm breeze swept through the room, carrying the scent of summer rain.
“Interesting,” he said, looking around.
“Atmospheric sensitivity,” I said quickly. “Dragon shifters run hotter than witches, which creates naturaltemperature differentials that my magic tries to equalize. It’s purely physiological.”
“I see,” he said softly, stroking his thumb across my knuckles. “Nothing to do with the fact that I kissed you senseless yesterday?”
My face heated. “That’s…also physiological. Increased heart rate, elevated body temperature, hormonal responses?—”
“Adele.”
“Yes?”
“You’re adorable when you try to explain away attraction with science.”
“I’m not—it’s not—” I took a breath. “Science explains everything.”
His amber eyes held mine, and I saw heat there that had nothing to do with dragon physiology and everything to do with the same want that was currently making my knees tremble.
