Page 102 of Alien Burn

The answer came out unsteady. She waited for the memory to turn on her, to drag the rest behind it.

For once, it stayed a roof.

Warm stone beneath her shoulders. Sky above.

“I miss that,” she said.

“I can give you a sky worth looking at. When we can get you safely to the dark side.”

She looked at him.

“Will there be a difficult door?”

“I can arrange one if it's essential.”

“And somewhere to sit?”

“I was thinking somewhere more comfortable than a roof.”

“Very extravagant.”

“I want to make a good impression.”

She laughed softly.

“Dhomhes.”

“Yes?”

“You're doing rather well.”

The pleasure in his face was so open that her next breath caught.

She'd seen his charm from across rooms. Had watched him make people laugh, coax answers out of officials, turn an objection aside without appearing to touch it.

This small, unguarded happiness was something else.

She wanted to be brave enough to meet it.

“There's something I'd like to do,” she said.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, then returned to her eyes.

“All right.”

“Would you come a little closer?”

He leaned toward her. The tall, paired peaks of his horns tilted with the movement, their shadows slipping across the pale stone beside her.

She placed her free hand against his shoulder. The fabric was smooth, the muscle beneath it warm and solid. She rose just enough to press her lips to his cheek.

For a heartbeat, he went completely still.

Then his breath left him against her hair, rough enough that she felt it. His fingers tightened around hers and eased again. She had expected a smile. For a moment he looked as though smiling required more attention than he could spare.

She drew back only far enough to see him, sliding her hand from his shoulder to his cheek.

“That,” she said, because she needed the words to be part of it, “was because I wanted to.”