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“Hey, easy, Emily,” he whispers as he steadies us both.

“I can kiss you. I can touch you,” I breathe in wonder.

I trace the outline of his lips with my index finger. He smiles a slow, knowing smile and then, in a playful mood, bites my finger, his even white teeth on me. I gasp as my body tightens in response. The feeling is delicious.

“And I can touch you,” he murmurs.

“Is this a dream?”

“Dream come true for me,” he whispers.

He bends his head and kisses me again, the tip of his tongue circling the tip of mine. My heart pounds, and the blood sings in my veins as his tongue explores my mouth over and over. When he pulls away and leans his forehead against mine, his breathing is ragged, matching my own.

“Again,” I plead, and he lowers his lips to mine once more. And we kiss and kiss and kiss, losing ourselves in each other, so I don’t know where my mouth starts and his ends. I melt against him, wanting so much more.

“No. Enough,” he says abruptly and lifts his head. We’re both panting and breathless, drinking in each other’s gaze. Tristan mouths the word wow and a slow, ecstatic smile spreads across his face, lighting him up. He’s dazzling.

My grin answers his. “Wow, indeed.”

“We have to go, Beauchamp.”

“Why?”

He plucks a stray strand of my hair off my face and tucks it behind my ear. “You are beautiful, you know. I know you don’t think so, but you’re fucking stunning.”

I reach for his hand and hold it against my cheek. It feels so good to touch him. I’ve missed touching. It’s such a fundamental part of being human.

“You’re beautiful too,” I whisper.

He laughs. “We must go. You have to wake up.”

“Why?”

“It’s too risky. We could get caught.”

“Caught? By whom?”

“I shouldn’t tell you.”

“I want to know. Tell me!”

“Wake up, Emily.”

“Tell me!”

“Beauchamp.” He shakes his head, amused and resigned at once. “There are others. Here. Not just spirits. We don’t want to get caught by them.”

“Who? What others.”

“You don’t need to know. Suffice to say, we don’t want that. I know what they’ll do to me. But to you?” He grimaces, but his eyes are wide with wicked humor.

I frown. “Who are they?”

“Wake up.”

“No.”

“Emily, please.” He glances around him, and in the distance, lurking in the mist, I can see figures, people. People moving around, people getting closer. A frisson of fear runs through me. “Shit. We have to go. Wake up. Wake up now!” Tristan shakes me. The indistinguishable figures draw closer.