Page 73 of Between Fear and Favor

He finally relented. “I’m sorry for looking at her.”

“You’ll kill yourself before you ever think about my wife again.”

“Dewalt!” I interjected, certain he’d gone mad. And yet something sweet tickled its way up my throat, forcing an incredulous smile past my lips.

“Pigeon.” Dewalt lifted his chin toward me, and I groaned over the nickname he’d tormented me with the past week. “Inside.”

Nodding erratically, I stepped behind the door. I was about to shut it when Dewalt followed, shoving the drunkard toward his men. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before rubbing his face.

“Why are you still awake, Nor?” he asked, brows drawn together, as he closed and locked the door. I blinked up at him, skin tingling, realizing he wasn’t irritated; he was worried.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Stepping toward the fire, I turned my back to him, holding my hands out for warmth. It probably would have been wiser to insist on privacy and climb into the bed, but the heat was too tempting. In my periphery, Dewalt sat on the only chair in the room, a bit too narrow and spindly to be comfortable, and removed his boots. I’d been facing away from him the last time he’d disrobed, and now I tried not to stare.

His motions were precise and symmetrical on either side, his long fingers tucking the laces neatly inside each boot before placing them next to the fireplace. When he began to pull his stockings off from beneath his trousers, I looked away. It felt too intimate. And yet, my heartbeat quickened. I knew it was silly, knew it was only because of circumstance, but seeing a more relaxed version of him felt special. Rare.

“Why not? I thought you were tired.”

I pursed my lips. Heaving out a sigh, I decided to give him honesty. “You didn’t follow me up right away, and I—and I was worried?—”

Dewalt stood, interrupting me. It sounded as if he were unbuttoning his shirt, and I tried not to think about it. “And you wanted to feel safe before you slept. I understand. I would have been up to check on you shortly. I’m sorry for keeping you awake.”

“No,” I corrected, and my hand drifted to my collarbone as his gaze warmed my skin. With my neck bare, I felt oddly naked. I usually wore high-necked garments or my cloak, and they usually hid my burns. It wasn’t out of shame, but I preferred to avoid prying eyes attached to rude-mouthed people. Blowing out a breath, I forced myself to drop my hand. Dewalt had never asked me uncomfortable questions or seemed particularly interested in my burns. Perhaps to him, they were just scars, and he’d seen plenty of those. “I wasn’t worried about my safety. I was worried aboutyou. They were quite rowdy when I left.”

He stepped closer, letting his fingertips skim over the back of my hand, the smallest touch feeling like lightning spreading up my arm. Turning, I was met with a broad chest, smooth copper skin, and muscles sculpted to perfection. My breath came out harsh, almost a pant, and I hoped he wouldn’t notice. My hands ached, wishing to touch and explore and press and grip. My vision hovered somewhere at his shoulder, watching as the blunt ends of his dark hair caressed his skin. I leaned toward him without thought, and I imagined the climbing jasmine in my garden, blooming as it sought the sun.

“You don’t need to worry about me, songbird. I’m not going anywhere.” Far too low, his voice reached deep within me and tugged.

I let my gaze move up the column of his throat, over his strong jaw, past his single dimple from his small smile. And when I let myself look into his eyes, searching for something I couldn’t quite name, I found it there. Warmth and uncertainty waited in the deep-brown depths, but more importantly, I found something which gave me courage. Something I knew was mirrored in my own eyes.

Hope.

It was hope which led me to raise to my tiptoes, putting my free hand on his shoulder as he held onto my wrist. And it was hope which made me disregard my previous hesitations, leading me to press my mouth to his soft, smooth lips. And it was hope which crashed around me when he froze, not kissing me back.

My eyes fluttered open, only to find his wide as I pulled away.

“Sorry. I-I thought—Oh, skies. I’m so sorry, Dewalt. I didn’t mean to?—”

I dropped my hand from his shoulder and made to step back just as his grip tightened on my wrist. I gasped when he pulled me closer, firmly pressing my body against his. His other hand stroked up my back, settling possessively on the back of my neck. Leaning down, he pressed his forehead to mine. Breathing deep, he was quiet, and he held me tight for a long moment. A hint of ale and smoke nearly overpowered his sandalwood and autumn scent, but it was there beneath it all. Greedily, I drank it in.

“I’m going to kiss you, Nor.Reallykiss you. And then I’m going to hold you until we both fall asleep.”

Small movements awoke in my stomach, a susurration of wings in motion. His voice had trembled when he spoke, and I worried he was trying to convince himself. I wondered if he hesitated because of the girl who’d died, and I didn’t want to force anything upon him he didn’t want.

Even if it killed me. Even if the thought of not feeling his lips on mine was a torment.

“You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t—” I whispered, but words failed me as he gently rubbed his cheek against mine. When his lips touched my ear, I shivered.

“I don’t have to—Ineedto. Can I?” he asked, and my breath rushed out of me.

“Please,” I begged, and then his hand on my neck slid down my jaw, his thumb gently caressing my lower lip.

By the time he finally adjusted, hovering his perfect mouth over mine, I was shaking. Bending over me, he circled both arms around my back and waist, hauling me up to my tiptoes as he pulled me close. And as I gasped, my lips parting, his lips found mine. This wasn’t like the kiss we’d shared in the temple in Astana, quick and fumbled to fool the Supreme. It wasn’t like the kiss he started in the princess’ chambers, when it had killed him to give in to his desire.

This was a calm acceptance, something sweet and soft.

Something easy.

One of his hands drifted up, gently supporting my head as his lips moved over mine. I was suspended in a state of disbelief, waiting to wake up from a dream. Circling one arm around his neck, my other hand rested on his chest. His skin was so warm and smooth, I couldn’t help it as my fingertips gently moved over him. He paid special attention to my lower lip, gently pulling and sucking, before paying the other the same attention. He was methodical, ensuring he tasted each place his lips moved. When he tenderly kissed one corner of my mouth, I couldn’t hold back my whimper. It was as if he’d been waiting for this, wanting to memorize every part of the kiss. His arms tightened around me, lifting me, and my feet no longer touched the ground.

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