Page 25 of The Kraken Bride

I eased closer to Sebastian, suddenly wrapped in the whirling vortex of him–or so it seemed. “One,” I said, aflutter.

He eased closer still. “Two.”

Neither of us spoke for long, agonizing seconds. I held my stance, and he held his. For an impossible moment, our lesson disappeared. We were in a bubble. Together.

“Three,” Mr. Thorson said and sighed, popping the bubble. “Now for the touch. Sebastian, your hand goes to her forearm. Merely the starting place.”

I braced, teeth clenched tight to prevent any kind of sound from escaping. Good thing. The moment Sebastian’s fingers lightly traced the sensitive skin on my arm, we both inhaled sharply.

“Now,” Mr. Thorson said, “glide down to her wrist.”

Soft leather whispered along my skin to my wrist, and I tamped down a shiver.

“Now the small of her back…”

His hand slid down my spine, heat chasing his path. My thoughts dissolved at the edges.

“Good, good. Now, one press, held, means you are to stay where you are. Two light taps means you should leave.”

Sebastian pressed once in the tender pressure point on my hip and held it. He held my gaze, too.

Held…

Look away. Ja. I should look away.

“Again,” Mr. Thorson demanded. “You have only days left to make your movements look like nothing to any observer, but everything to each other.”

So we went again, and this time, I didn’t have to think. Wrist. Palm.

Half-step. Wait.

Sebastian moved with me as though we’d practiced together for years instead of minutes.

“Better,” Mr. Thorson said. “Keep at this for another hour. Perhaps three.”

A whimper slipped free. I might not survive another minute of this delicious torment, much less hours and hours. Already aches were blooming.

Thankfully, our instructor made his exit, leaving us alone.

Sebastian didn’t continue but eased back little by little, allowing my breathing to slow. To smooth.

He cobbled together his usual expression: untouched, unreadable, unwelcoming. “Ready to study runes?”

“Ja, please,” I rasped, doing my best to steady. Wait. I remembered the earlier threat and his note. “What happened with Jokull?”

He pursed his lips. “He pretended to want a truce. I turned him down.”

My eyes went wide. “He fears the rune.”

“He should.” Sebastian breathed in, as if resetting, then reached for the collar of his shirt. Candlelight glimmered over the symbols climbing his throat. With a tug, he lifted the material over his head. The garment hit the floor, and I gulped. He’d gone from covered to bare chested in two frantic heartbeats.

A plethora of runes waited, ready for my viewing pleasure. Er, for my study. But I could hardly focus on those. So. Many. Muscles.

The moisture in my mouth both dried and flooded, a sensation I didn’t even try to explain.

He traced a swirling image in the center of his abdomen. He still wore the gloves.

He’d bared his chest without a flicker of hesitation, every rune and scar on display. But the gloves stayed. A man who’d show me that much and not his hands was hiding something.