Page 35 of C is for Captive

His brow furrowed.

“I think we’re going to need a classification system,” she added.

“A what?”

“For freezing.” She was trying not to laugh now. “Bad freeze means stop immediately. That one was more of an oh, that’s interesting freeze.”

He stared at her. She lost the battle and laughed, and the expression on his face changed.

“Interesting.”

The way he said it wiped the laughter right out of her.

“Very,” she admitted.

His hips shifted deliberately against hers, and her breath caught. His eyes darkened.

“That one?”

She swallowed. “Also interesting.”

His mouth curved.

Oh, hell.

She shoved at his shoulder. “You are learning entirely too quickly.”

“You told me to.”

“I absolutely did not.”

“You said there was a classification system. I require data.”

She stared at him. The big idiot was teasing her. The silent, terrifying alien warrior who had spent weeks chained to a wall pretending to be an animal was lying in bed teasing her about his erection. She started laughing again. This time he joined her, although his laugh was barely a laugh at all, just a rough warm sound deep in his chest.

It might have been the happiest she had been in four years.

The realization arrived without warning, and her laughter faded. He noticed, just as he always did.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

His eyes narrowed, and she sighed.

“I was just thinking that I’m happy.”

He went very still. There were classifications for his stillness as well, and she knew this one. Not fear but wonder. She reached up and lightly touched his cheek.

“Don’t look so alarmed. I’m not asking you to do anything about it.”

“I wasn’t alarmed.”

“You looked alarmed.”

“I was thinking.”

“Loudly?”