She lay on his chest with his arm around her, gently rooting her in place. He did not lock her there; if she wished, she could slide out, but she didn’t want to. She watched him breathe, so comfortable that a sense of peace enveloped over her.
In these quiet moments at dawn, she could almost believe this was all a dream.
She looked at his throat, his jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, the fall of his hair. His copper locks were messy, and she wanted to reach out and smooth them. That blasted hair of his—she always wanted to run her hands through it.
But she didn’t want to move her hand from where it was resting against his chest, in the empty space of his open shirt. Her fingers were directly on his bare skin, which was warm, and she could feel his heart beating just beneath her palm, so steady and sure.
She loved the feel of it. If she closed her palm into a fist, could she capture his heartbeat forever? It sounded like the melody ofmagic, the energy that pulsed through the earth when she grew plants.
Bisma watched him for some time, tenderness overcoming her with such a force that she ached. But it was a lovely ache, the kind that came after a day of hard work that had yielded immeasurable success.
She looked at him with such fondness, such peace, that she fell asleep once more.
25
Afew hours later, when she woke again, she and Xander were facing one another, the way two sunflowers face each other on a cloudy day. Sunlight slanted in over them, illuminating the rumpled sheets and blankets in rectangles of light. When Bisma opened her eyes, she found he was already awake, looking at her with an expression so soft that it made her feel shy.
They were in bed together after all, even if all they had done was sleep.
She buried her nose in her pillow. ‘Don’t stare.’
‘How can I not?’ he asked, tucking a tendril of dark hair behind her ear, exposing her cheek. She looked back at him; his green eyes were bright.
They looked at each other for a while, cocooned in an emotion she could not name, but whether mere moments passed or hours, she could not tell.
‘Thank you,’ Xander said, breaking the silence.
‘For what? I should be thanking you for letting me stay.’
‘Thank you for asking me,’ he said. ‘Nobody ever asks anything of me.’
‘That bothers you?’
He nodded slightly, as if shy himself.
She gave him her fullest attention. ‘Tell me why.’
He smiled at that. ‘Always bossy,’ he said. ‘Well, it’s just that my life is … perfect, so perfect I feel utterly useless at times. Iwant to do something with my life, to help people—the way you do. I’ve seen you with your sisters; it’s extraordinary. They need you. No one ever needs me … or depends on me, or trusts me.’ He swallowed. ‘So you needing me is nice because then at least I can be useful to you.’
‘You like being needed?’
‘Yes,’ he breathed. ‘Especially if it’s you. I’ll feel like I’ve done something with my life even if it’s solely you that I can be useful to.’
‘Oh.’ She had never thought that could be a possibility. And she couldn’t help but think of Gregory who had wanted her to never be needy and to just be content with whatever he was giving—in fact, requiring her to put up withhimbeing needy. And now here was Xander, who rather than feeling burdened by, it was outright pleased.
It was hard for her to ask for help, but he made it so easy. He was always there for her.
Perhaps needing people wasn’t such a bad thing; perhaps it could even be … good.
She missed being needed by her sisters now that they were all asleep. She had never seen them as a burden—yes, it was difficult being Baji, but she loved them, and she loved showing that love through acts of service and care. So why not allow others the opportunity to do the same for her?
She’d always thought she didn’t need it, but everyone needed someone.
And she needed Xander; she could admit that now. Not only needed but wanted.
She was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him but held back for it was quite a frightening feeling. It wasn’t just physical desire, lust that could flare and eventually burn out—it was a feeling deep in her core, a flame that if stoked would keep her warm and never die out.
So instead she smiled at him. ‘What Ineednow is some breakfast.’
