Page 52 of The Rebel's Prize

But maybe that wouldn’t be too long a wait, she realized as the next memory hit her. The fact that they had a possible lead on Deandra. That they could finally move fast with some hope of finding her. Which in turn would bring peace back to their lives.

Easy to feel certain of success now that her world felt anchored again.

She smiled again, resisting the urge to wriggle happily in the anticipation of success. Instead, she lay still and let the emotion fizz through her.

No light was filtering through the gaps around the tent flaps yet, but somehow she knew it was time to rise. She started to slide toward the edge of the bed, but Lucien's arm tightened around her waist.

"Where are you going?" he muttered sleepily.

"We have a long day ahead of us," she reminded him.

"What time is it?"

She turned in his arms, and they tightened around her even as he smiled. "I'm not sure. Early, but I'm guessing the lieutenant will come for us shortly."

He frowned as though slightly confused, but then the sleepy expression faded from his face, his gaze sharpening. "Right. Nysalla."

"Exactly," she agreed, wriggling gently against his hold. "We need to get underway."

Instead of letting her go, he pressed his lips to hers. "You know," he said softly, "another man might be insulted about a woman wanting to leave his bed so fast."

"That's not going to work," she said. "I admit I would prefer to stay right here, but at the moment, we have more important priorities. Like solving the problem of who tried to kill you and the emperor."

She twisted in his arms and planted a quick kiss on his mouth. "So as much as I would like to dally with you, my lord, I think we should get up."

He groaned, but his arm loosened. "Very well," he said, "but only because that part about keeping me alive seems important." He rolled himself over and on top of her too fast for her to stop him. "But only so I can do this."

He kissed her, and for a moment, the connection was a blinding rush of sensation, magic singing softly around her.

He pulled back, looking a little startled. "That seems different." His mouth curved, eyes heated. "I like it."

"I do, too. But this is not helping."

He pressed his hips into hers, and she bit her lip against the rush of need. "Are you sure?" Amusement and hunger echoed down the bond.

They were never going to make it out of bed at this rate. She summoned her willpower and tried to clamp down on the flow through the bond. It wasn't as easy as before, almost as though it resisted. But eventually the intensity of feeling subsided.

"I'm sure." She kissed his cheek and then pushed him away. "How are you feeling?"

"Besides sleepy and annoyed that my wife wants to get out of bed?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, laughing.

He paused as though considering the question. "Better."

She tilted her head. "Truly?"

He arched a brow. "Is that something you have to ask me now?"

"I thought you would prefer that we keep the truth seeking out of it, as before." She wasn't sure if that would be entirely possible, not if the bond was stronger, but she could try. But even as she waited for the answer, she knew he was strong again. She knew it in her bones. Not truth from his words but truth from her sense of him.

"I'm fine," he said.

"You don't feel anything strange?" She sat up, curious.

"Strange how?"

"Like what happened when we bonded?" Had he felt the same thing as her? That rush of connection?

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