Page 86 of The Artist and the Dragon

“And this one.” She walked to the framed landscape near the bed. “It was from the gallery opening.”

“It was.” His voice was calm. Even. Almost devoid of emotion. “I loved what you did with the light on the water, and I had to have it. Truthfully, I might have purchased them all, but I thought you’d be cross with me if I did and you learned of it. I would have acquired any that did not sell, but they all did.”

She whirled on him again. “Why, Malik?”

He neared until his legs pressed into the skirts of her dress and they nearly shared the same breath. A shiver rolled across her skin as he tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “You know why.”

“Tell me.” Only the words would do. No guessing. No games.

Malik grabbed her chin, keeping her from looking away. Not that she would, not for this. “I have longed. Ached. Pined. I wanted you and could not have you. So, I made do with what bits of you I could surround myself with.”

“You—” she started, but his thumb found the seam of her lips and pressed.

He smirked. “So impatient.”

She glowered at him even as his thumb rubbed across her bottom lip, causing a knot of desire to coil tight within her. Goddess, he infuriated yet beguiled her like no other.

He dropped his hand and swallowed thickly, expression sobering. “I love you, Bronwyn Kinsley. I have loved you—”

She didn’t let him finish. Couldn’t. All the pent-up tension and worry within her burst. Her lips were on his in a heartbeat, the kiss passionate and fierce. She ached for him. Had craved the taste of his lips again and had been frightened of it in equal measure. But no more. Something about facing down death had shifted the pillars of her soul, and she no longer feared what giving in to her desire might bring. Instead, she feared never tasting their passion again, never learning the depths of his feelings or what they could be together.

Bronwyn slid back onto her heels, breaking the kiss but lingering against him. “I love you too, Malik,” she said the moment he opened his eyes.

Despite the dim lighting of the room, there was no missing the pure joy that sprang to his face, blooming in a smile on his lips and sparkling in his eyes.

She smiled in return, a heavy weight on her chest gone as if it had never been. Had she ever felt so light? So free and joyous? He loved her, and she loved him. And finally, finally, he knew.

Fear had not won.

“I—” She nestled closer, and he winced in pain. “Oh, Goddess!” She sprang back. “Damn! Your arm!”

In the revelation of everything else, she’d forgotten it completely. Stupid. Foolish. Letting the man she loved bleed out while he professed his feelings.

“It’s—”

“Nonsense,” she snapped. He better not tell her it was nothing. “I need you to take care of yourself. I need you healed.” Before he could stop her or beguile her with more kisses, she stomped past him, toward the desk where he’d said the medicine was kept. The thing was a mess, covered in stacks of letters and papers, a few errant jars, and a candleholder overflowing with pooled wax.

Malik trailed after her. “Do you have plans for me, Princess?” he crooned.

The tone of his voice, the implication, shot straight between her legs. She’d never considered herself the lustful type, but around him, her body had its own ideas. “Stop distracting me and help me find the medicine you need.”

An arm snaked around her middle, pulling her against his solid chest. “Weneed.” His lips brushed her neck. “It’s just here.” He pulled out the drawer by their legs and selected a small, nondescript ceramic pot. From the look of it, she would never have guessed it contained anything of value, but perhaps that was the point.

“Good.” She managed to twist around and face him, her back half bowed over the desk. She gave him a gentle shove. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

He stepped back and arched a brow. “So then you can have your way with me?”

The entirety of her body grew hot, from her head, down to her core, and all the way to her toes. It would be a lie to say she didn’t want just that, but admitting it? Even her ears burned. “One thing at a time,” she mumbled, squeezing out from between him and the desk and refusing to look at him. He laughed.

Back in the sitting room, he tried to use the cream on her.

“Don’t waste it on me. Look.” She held out her arm. “See? It’s already stopped bleeding and everything.” As she shifted, the new ring she wore glimmered in the light.

Guilt flooded her. Here she was, confessing her feelings to Malik while wearing some other man’s ring. “Ugh.” She jerked it off and plunked it none too gently on a side table.

Malik’s grin widened, looking from the ring to her. Two of his fingers were covered in the greenish goop. “Your wound may leave a mark.”

Just like that, the unwanted ring was forgotten.

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