Page 71 of Alien Burn

He began to loosen his hold.

She tightened hers. “I didn't ask you to stop.”

His thumb moved, one slow stroke.

“All right.”

For a moment, she could think of absolutely nothing to say. She knew enough about herself to understand how unusual that was.

“Your hand is very large,” she said.

His mouth twitched.

“Yes.”

“That wasn't what I meant to say.”

“What did you mean?”

“I like it.”

The amusement softened out of his face.

“I like yours.”

It was such a foolish conversation. Hands were hands. And yet hers was in his, and she couldn't remember the last time she had felt this pleased about something she hadn't needed to earn.

“Sereya.”

Roemary's voice came from directly behind her.

Dhomhes's hand stayed still. Sereya took hers back, making herself move without hurrying.

“There you are.” Roemary's gaze passed over the two cups, their hands, the small space between them. “I've been looking everywhere.”

“I'm here,” Sereya said.

“Yes. I can see that.” She turned to Dhomhes. “Gol-Vett. I was hoping for a moment with you.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Must something be wrong?” Her laugh was light. “You've made yourself very difficult to find.”

“I've had a great deal to do.”

“Then perhaps we could arrange something. A meal, when you aren't being pulled in six directions.”

Sereya reached for her tea. The cup was still warm. She held it carefully in both hands.

Dhomhes didn't look away from Roemary. “I'm not available for a private meal.”

“Not today, obviously.”

“I understood.”

Roemary's smile remained in place. Only the skin beside her mouth tightened.

For one appalling moment, Sereya wanted to apologize. To make it easier for Roemary, offer an explanation he had not offered himself, give her something to carry away that wasn't a refusal.