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He smiled, relieved. “Good.”

The thought that he would shave it for her… she really didn’t know what to do with him.

“I know I tease you for being broody, but when you don’t have to play the part of the vicious soldier or commander, when you’re able to open up, it seems so easy for you.”

“Being closed off is the hard part for me,” he admitted. “Not doing and saying exactly what I want, when I want.”

“I admire you for that. It is so hard for me to even let myself feel things, let alone share them.”

“You’ve been through a lot, Iryana,” he reminded her gently. “If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s to be patient.”

She wanted to ask what she’d done to deserve him, how he’d come to care for her as much as she did. But she swallowed it down and chose to accept it for now. There were plenty of things she’d been meaning to talk to him about, things she was sure lingered in his mind, hard conversations she didn’t really want to have. But they’d been through enough, and they deserved to enjoy this time together, didn’t they?

Iryana leaned forward in his lap, pressed her lips softly to his. Pyetar’s arms held her closer, his mouth moving gently beneath hers. It was everything sweet and hypnotic, like it was slowly fusing them together.

But she didn’t want gentle.

Chapter Nine

She kissed him deeper, ran her tongue over his lips, tugged his lower lip into her mouth. Pyetar jerked beneath her, a groan escaping his throat. She dug her fingers into his hair, knocking the fur-lined cap off his head.

Pyetar’s hands dug into her coat, trying to hold her tighter, but the armor beneath it didn’t give. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he complained.

“Take them off,” she ordered.

Pyetar stood, lifting her into the air and placing her on her feet. Her legs wobbled unsteadily. His eyes, dark as the night sky, didn’t leave hers.

“It’s cold,” he pointed out, voice deep and gruff.

He roughly undid his belt, tossing the red leather to the side and pulling the large coat from his broad shoulders and quickly removing his brigandine. His body was so warm in the freezing air that steam rose, joining the puffs of breath as he exhaled. He laid the coat against the floor, fur facing up.

Pyetar grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. Her mouth was dry as he undid her belt and helped her out of her coat. She didn’t try to help, just let him. Her armor went next, then her hat and the scarf wrapped around her head, and then the woolen dress. When he had her boots, pants, and shirt off, she stood before him in her underlayers, thick leggings and a form-fitting knitted shirt.

The air was cold with so few layers to protect her, but she burned from within.

“Why would they put buttons on this,” he complained, working down the knitted shirt.

“So slow,” she teased him, breathless.

“You know, you could help.” He arched a brow at her, but he was smiling so much she wasn’t sure he’d have let her.

“Hmm,” she pretended to consider that. “I promised to let you take care of me, didn’t I?”

His fingers stilled, lips parting as his eyes bore into hers, darkening.

“I wouldn’t want to break my promise.” She blinked up at him innocently.

“Gods,” he groaned. “That mouth.”

His movements became more frantic as he tried to undress her quickly, but it only made his fingers clumsier.

“Why aren’t we at my fucking estate,” he growled, focusing on the small buttons. “Where I could rip this damned shirt off you and get you another!”

“Please, don’t rip it.” She didn’t want to explain to Teshya why she needed a new one.

Finally, he undid the last button, but he didn’t immediately pull it off her. Pyetar tucked her between their coats, shucking off his own layers while she warmed the fur. Only once he was down to his last layer did he crawl in with her. His body hovered over hers.

She laughed as they awkwardly removed the last layer of clothing, fumbling and trying not to knock off the coat. It was hard not to be nervous about him seeing her tattoos again.