In Which Lonel Finds a Less Preferable Topic

April 19, 1186

"She sleeps so well, doesn't she?"

Lonel fought to keep back a groan. He liked his wife's twin--he really did--but recently, Celina had been rather... single-minded. And he supposed that was understandable. Celina and Tanver had married in February of 1183. Despite the both of them being eager to start a family from the get-go, their first child had only been born in September of last year. That placed the conception close to two years after they'd started trying. If Celina wanted to talk about nothing but her daughter... well, Lonel supposed she had earned that.

But... well, he and Feoda had been eager from the get-go too. And they'd been trying for nearly three years now, without so much as a late course. Not that they didn't love their newest little niece, but having known their anxiety, he could have hoped that his sister-in-law could be more sensitive.

And if she had to talk about the baby in more than a passing sense... well, the least she could have done was wait until Feoda was out of the room. For all Lonel knew, it was just as likely to be a problem on his part as it was on his wife's, but all the nosy busy-bodies about took a less mathematical approach there. It was, after all, perfectly acceptable--rude, but acceptable--to inquire about a still-flat waist, whereas a deficiency of seed was a taboo topic. So, not only did Feoda take the bulk of unwelcome inquiries and whispers, but any Lonel got were likely to be about his wife rather than his own self. One former drinking buddy, a few months back, had suggested Lonel divorce Feoda on the grounds of her infertility; that man now had one less friend and several fewer teeth to show for it.

"She's such a peaceful little thing. Very easy-going too, and never demanding. Really, she's given us so little trouble that we're thinking of trying for another one soon."

He stood corrected. The least she could have done was refrain from comments about second babies.

"It's a little early for that, don't you think?" A lucky thing Feoda had spoken up first. Lonel wasn't sure he could have been so tactful. "I mean, have you even... recovered, quite?"

"I've 'recovered' a few times at about the normal rate, if that's what you're asking." What did it say when even courses were a preferable conversation topic? "Tanver's eager to try for another one too, especially given how long it took the first time, you know?"

Feoda swallowed. "I'm aware..."

Ugh. All Lonel could be thankful about where this visit was concerned was that the baby, at least, was napping in another room. A pity Tanver's day off hadn't coincided with his own. Tanver could and usually made a point to keep Celina engaged with other topics. "Say, when's Tanver done for the day?"

"Oh, probably a couple hours yet." Celina sighed. "Sir Bernardo is fairly generous when it comes to time off, but nothing seems to be enough with a small child in the house. But Tanver makes the most of the hours he has."

Feoda gave Lonel a quick glance, possibly to assure him that he did too--even if those hours were more geared toward trying to make a baby rather than playing with one. Or possibly to assure him that Sir Searle was likely to be even more generous than Sir Bernardo whenever it became necessary.

Though, at this point... felt more like if it became necessary.

Downstairs, someone knocked on the front door. Eager to get away--though perhaps a little guilty for his apparent willingness to strand Feoda--Lonel sprung up from the couch. "Maybe Tanver got off early."

"Maybe," Celina agreed. Did that count as an entire sentence in which she hadn't mentioned her daughter?

"Whoever it is, invite them up to join us." Feoda rustled as she stretched her back, showcasing to her unseeing sister a lack of middle. "Please."

"Of course."

He hurried down that stairs and reached for the door, the greetings and requests and warnings for his brother-in-law already halfway up his throat. But when he answered, he found not Tanver, but Tanver's employer. "Sir Bernardo?"

"Master Wythleit." Sir Bernardo was man from whom Lonel had come to expect at least trace amounts of jocularity, but today, there was none to be found. "Is Mistress Kaswick here? There was an accident..."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Hilla Reminds Herself of Worse

January 6, 1181

Apparently only hosting by proxy, Riona and Isidro had been relegated to the center seats of their own table. Not having met Eliana before--despite Hilla riding over to warn her the second Casimiro had dropped by with the invitation--Riona had laid the foundation for a protest, and some part of Hilla wished she had gone through with it. But she hadn't forgotten the one time her mother-in-law had dropped by for a couple weeks to stay with her and Bernardo, so whatever it was she secretly craved she knew it was a bad idea. And Isidro had known too, not so much as glancing at his usual seat as they'd entered the dining hall. As far as Eliana was concerned, Casimiro was the host; he was simply borrowing Isidro's finished, useable dining room, a luxury he lacked and that Isidro ought to have been grateful to have.

Then again, perhaps all of that was merely excuse to ensure Ellona's assignment to the far end of the table. Eliana tolerated her children-in-law, of course--how on earth would she get her coveted grandchildren without them?--but truly to her they were little more than a means to an end, or she might have protested Hilla's own marriage with a blunter force than her passive-aggressive barbs.

Ah, but she did have to admit that the evening had passed more smoothly than she'd expected. Between Ellona's side and Casimiro's, there were enough people present to excuse her from any Eliana-dominated conversation longer than a cordial hello, and many were children besides--and there was little on the earth Eliana liked more than children.

Of course, the table had been cleared and the children had scattered. Well, unless the two older boys counted as children, though Ellona's youngest brother probably didn't. Roddie probably did, though. If he didn't, then Lord only knew how old Hilla was. Regardless, it was time for the post-meal chat, and Hilla had taken a seat on the wrong side of the table.

"But my God, I just can't believe that sister of yours!" Eliana's hand hit the edge of the table as her sons shared glances. "Silvia took my advice, of course, good girl that she is. So did Catalina, for all she must have been doing something wrong there. As for Nieves--I'll grant you, her husband's face isn't much to look at and I doubt any other part of him is more impressive. But heaven forbid I even suggest the idea to Lorenza!"

Bernardo shot Hilla some strained, long-suffering gaze, not unlike Gualtiero's when he wanted cake. Casimiro took the braver, more foolish route of trying to respond. "Mother, I know you want lots of grandkids... but you know, not every bride wants to walk down the aisle with a baby already in her."

"Why not? It never hurts to get a head-start on things! Why, if your father hadn't been such an old prude--" Bernardo begged her to stop with a panicked shake of his head. Thankfully, Eliana indulged him. "Anyway. Can't say I know what to do with the girl. Her man would have her in a heartbeat, but apparently she'd rather listen to the Bible than me. Reyes thinks we ought to have let her join that convent. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous in your life? There are no men in a convent! Granted they're a largely useless tribe--my boys excluded, of course--but facts are facts, and the fact is that she can't give me any grandchildren without a cock in her."

Roddie, a little tipsy off a few ill-advised cups of wine apparently having heard despite being a reasonable distance away, waved his arm in an attempt to but in--not that Hilla could understand his wanting to be a part of the conversation, but she'd known enough ten-year-old boys to figure they weren't creatures of logic. "You know, the church people do mingle sometimes, you know. My brother Jadin sometimes goes to the convent to 'confess'. With his penis."

That did it--Hilla had to turn her head and catch a glimpse at Riona's face. "Roddie! We just ate!"

"What? It's true. Also, my grandfather wanted my father to be a priest, so Father went to a monastery for a while before he ran off with my big siblings' mother. At my sister Vera's wedding, Father and the baron got really drunk and they were sharing old stories, and there was this lady who used to sell flowers in the village by the monastery, and she and my father had sex in the confessional."

"Roddie! Eww! What is wrong with you?"

"And there's more! She came back a week later with her friend, who--"

"We get it, Roddie." Hilla sighed and turned to face Eliana, who was now looking at her too. Oh, how she'd appreciated her invisibility! If only she'd had the stomach to let Riona vomit on the table. "So... when is Lorenza's wedding?"

"March. So I suppose the earliest I'll get to hold that baby in my arms is December." She slumped, resigned, as if no greater tragedy had struck anyone ever. "On a more positive note, Silvia's is in April, and she was a week late when I left."

Roddie yawned. "You know, sometimes women are just late for no reason."

"No one asked you!" Riona snapped.

"Alas, it's true." Eliana shook her head. "It's God's idea of cruel humor. We people are made in God's image after all--and most people turn out horrid. Why, I have this nephew--"

Isidro cleared his throat. "Um, Aunt Eliana? I'm your only nephew."

"Right, right. As I was saying, I have this nephew..."

Oy. There were worse mothers-in-law out there, Hilla reminded herself. Worse still, there were worse mother-in-laws who actually lived with their children. Eliana lived in a whole other country. And she wasn't even staying with Hilla and Bernardo this time. They'd only see her when everyone else did, when there were plenty of other people around to speak with instead. This dinner was the most they'd see of her while she was here.

And for this moment, well, there were worse topics of discussion that could have...

"So. Roddie." Eliana leaned forward and stared past Isidro to Riona's still annoying, still slightly inebriated little brother. "Since you know so much about female reproduction, any tips on how to keep the Good Lord from getting his good laugh? Really, it's about time Hilla gave me another grandchild."

Or not.

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Searle Guesses the Remedy

December 8, 1179

Raia was not in attendance as the baby had a slight fever, and of course Viridis was still in Carvallon, but the rest of Searle's siblings were all accounted for. The children, of course, were off playing elsewhere, poor Roddie among their exasperated babysitters; the adults were already dancing the night away, though the evening sun still sparkled in the stain-glass windows and dinner had yet to be served. Vera and Lonriad had already danced so long and so hard that they had retired to the benches with their respective partners, but Jadin and Riona were still going strong, now dancing a closer and slower dance, guided by innate rhythm and the path of their spouses' eyes.

Searle had never danced like that. Not with that kind of focus, at least.

He glanced over at his wife, seated to the side by the heart-wrenchingly adorable Vera and Lucien. She looked tired and ill, and again he regretted begging her to accompany him. Lettie was seven months if Arydath hadn't lost her uncanny touch, but the bump was so small and so low Searle couldn't even be sure that everyone here was aware of her condition. The slouch and the deceptive gown she'd chosen didn't help. Poor girl. Still missing Prior, still suffering in silence as his broken heart kept silently beating for another, and probably still stressed from the whole plan too. How she'd managed to let him back in bed long enough to get pregnant again, he couldn't guess, but she was a much more patient woman than he ever could have hoped for.

He wished he could dance with her like that. He really did.

Sparron hadn't shown up, not that Searle had expected he would. Didn't mean it hurt any less. Attending functions where Sparron was present was torture--all the looking without looking, all the wondering if anyone was looking back, wanting nothing more than just a minute with him and knowing that was never going to happen--but it was nothing compared to the hard fact that Sparron had gone out of his way to avoid him. It had been like that before, but at least he'd known Sparron's patterns, known that he'd come around eventually, that there would come a day they'd be together again.

It wasn't like that this time. If Sparron hadn't come, then he was still angry with him. He still hated him.

And that made the sight of all his smiling, laughing, happily-in-love siblings all the more unbearable.

Perhaps he wasn't trying hard enough with his wife. Maybe Sparron's rejection was some cosmic force telling him to give up and get over the man, some means of clearing the path to marital bliss with Lettie. But what if Sparron came back to him? No matter how long it took, no matter how over Sparron he thought he was, he doubted he could ever resist. And he didn't want to harm the small, dying hope he still harbored.

"Not quite the dancer your brothers are?"

It was Casimiro. Searle wasn't sure how he'd missed him; the soft green tunic was a bold departure from his usual drab brown. "Not really in a dancing mood."

"I know what you mean. Of course, it doesn't help that my date is my sister." Catalina glowered from her chair by the dancers. Casimiro returned the glare with a good-natured smirk. "Do you think 'Nardo might let me borrow Hilla? He dances like his toenails are lead, but she almost makes that unnoticeable."

Searle glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Bernardo loose his lips on Hilla's shoulder. He'd kissed Sparron there a few times, but Sparron had always shrugged him aside. "He doesn't look like he wants to share."

"Guess not--but can you blame him, really?" Fond smile swelling, Casimiro sighed as he took in the sight of his brother and sister-in-law. "All those empty flings with tavern girls and knight's daughters alike, then he finally meets the one woman who can keep him satisfied all by her lonesome. You don't let something like that get away."

"No," Searle agreed. He hadn't guessed that one word could make him feel like such a hypocrite. "I had someone once."

"I did too. At least, I thought I did." It was the first hint of sadness Searle had seen on that face since he'd known Casimiro, but he didn't press. They weren't lovers. He'd feared Casimiro had wanted that of him, but a good long conversation like he'd never had with Sparron proved otherwise. They were friends who scratched each other's backs because it worked for them, but nothing more.

They weren't close enough for Searle to delve into Casimiro's private sorrows, nor for Casimiro to feel obliged to tell on his own accord. "All in the past, though. My more pressing concern right now is dinner and how long until it's served."

Was that a joke? Searle forced out a chuckle. "Are you that hungry?"

"No, but I am that bored."

"And food is your remedy for that particular ailment?"

"One of them, yes. But I have a few others."

Searle thought he could guess what one of them might be. He wasn't sure how he felt about the idea--sneaking off from a party with someone who wasn't Sparron--but maybe it would prove a fitting distraction. It couldn't have been worse than just standing here, drowning in all the happy. "Pray tell?"

As he thought he might, Casimiro winked. "Walk with me?"

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Abrich Accomplishes Something Unintended

August 14, 1178

"All right-y." Bernardo stopped and turned so abruptly that Abrich barely managed to avoid walking into him. He had to admit that he wasn't quite clear on what had brought this on. Sure, they'd had a few laughs when they'd set off, but after twenty minutes of not coming across so much as a rabbit, they'd come to an unspoken agreement of silence; Abrich hadn't noticed anything that might have broken it. "We've been out here for over an hour already. I think we deserve a break."

It wasn't the most unreasonable suggestion. Bernardo wasn't counting the time it had taken to get to the forest from Seoth's and they'd left their horses in the village--not to mention, they'd both been up since daybreak getting ready for the excursion. Ten or fifteen minutes' worth of rest was a tempting prospect.

Still... "Isidro wouldn't like it."

"And he doesn't have to know. I won't tell if you don't."

Did it matter? Abrich would still know. "We have orders."

"'Orders' my ass." Bernardo landed a playful swat across his arm, though it stung a little more than he'd likely intended. "You're just feeling guilty because you have the hots for Izzy's wife."

Out of instinct, Abrich glanced around for any unintentional eavesdroppers--never mind that they were out in the middle of nowhere. "I didn't know you knew about that."

"How? It's not exactly a secret." So much for hoping it was. "But think of it this way. He's not going to be taking any breaks himself, is he? If you take a break, then you can have the guilt-numbing satisfaction of telling yourself how great it is that Riona did better than a slacker like you."

And this was why he sometimes hated his happily married friends. He missed Aspen. Sure, they hadn't ever done anything but swing weapons at each other and he couldn't even guess who she'd been pining over, but at least they could commiserate. Everybody else just gave him their well-meaning-yet-misguided teasing before going home to their ladies, apparently thinking it wasn't a big deal to be stuck in a lengthy engagement to a fourteen-year-old a kingdom away while the girl he couldn't remember ever not wanting slept beside someone else. And then he remembered that these same men sometimes envied him and it was a little more than he could take.

"That makes no sense."

"Does if you're tired enough--and I don't know about you, but I certainly am." Bernardo sway-stepped to the side in some silly attempt to be coy, giving Abrich a clear view of something rather big--and shiny. "Besides, it's not like we're actually going to find Lord Severin's crazy suit of--"

"'Nardo, it's right behind you."

"What?" Bernardo jumped as he jerked his head to his shoulder. "Well, I'll be damned."

The suit of armor didn't look to share the surprise. It just stared for a second--or at least, Abrich guessed it was staring, although the lack of eyes was puzzling--and raised one hand, moving it back and forth in front of him.

"Is he... waving at us?"

Bernardo gave a slow, almost tentative nod. "That is what it looks like."

The suit of armor stopped waving and instead strode toward them. It stopped a feet short of Bernardo, then glanced--again, so far as anyone could tell--expectantly toward Abrich.

"I think he wants to see you."

Despite there not being any possible explanation as to why? Nevertheless, Abrich obliged. What other options did he have? "Um... hello."

That metal hand rose again. Wondering if it might respond to mimicry, he waved back. "So... those are some nice feathers you have there."

In hindsight, he had no idea what he'd hoped to accomplish with a random compliment, but it certainly wasn't what happened next.

"Uh, Bernardo... I think he's hugging me."

So much for thinking his friend might intervene. "I see that."

Despite a resolve to be polite, Abrich squirmed somewhat; the statue's embrace tightened. "I don't think he wants to stop."

"That's all right." Bernardo walked over to a nearby tree and sat down at the base of the trunk. "We've got time."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Garrett Wonders What It Says

August 14, 1178

"'...so, do I know him? Of course! I had lunch with him!'"

Garrett collapsed into a bought of head-shaking chuckles and Abrich choked out a laugh, but Ashe didn't look quite so amused. "Eww."

"Exactly." Bernardo picked a berry off one of the plates and popped it into his mouth--never mind that Isidro was still in the back, trying to work out a deal with Seoth. "That's what makes it funny."

"If by funny, you mean 'gross and stupid'."

"Of course! 'Gross and stupid' is funny." Another berry left its brothers for whatever horrors lurked beyond Bernardo's teeth. "God, Ashe, you wouldn't know humor if it sprung out of a chamber pot and bit you in the ass."

Ashe cringed. Triumphant, Bernardo smirked. "Case and point." He reached for the apple at the center of the plate, but snatched his hand back as Isidro emerged from the other room. "Welcome back, Is. Did you reach an agreement?"

"Yes. He didn't like the idea of waiting around for reimbursement, but he said we were civil servants on a mission and he wouldn't charge us."

"So... Seoth's just giving us breakfast?" asked Casimiro with a grin as Isidro settled into the empty seat next to him.

His cousin shrugged. "Essentially. My bet is that he tacks the cost onto Florian's tab, but either way, at least we're not paying. So yes, you can all eat now--and 'Nardo, don't think I didn't notice those missing berries."

Bernardo's face snapped forward, eyes pleading with Ashe and Abrich but making little progress. Garrett had to snicker. One of these days, he'd have to introduce these idiots to Nanalie, just for the fun of watching her rip them to shreds. Not that it would earn him many points, though. "Busted."

"Shut up, Garrett."

"Make me."

At the other table, Isidro sunk his fork into one of the fish in front of him. "He probably can't, but you might want to anyway, since I'm about to tell you all which ground you get to cover--and I'm only saying it once, so you'd better hear it the first time. 'Nardo, you and Abrich get the northwest quadrant."

"What, northwest?" Bernardo's groan was such that it was a miracle his jaw remained intact. Garrett was enjoying this way too much and he wondered what that said about him. Probably needed some ripping to shreds himself; he wondered if that said anything about Nanalie, the fact that she hadn't done so yet. "That's the furthest one from here!"

At the far end, Lonriad nudged his brows twice. "Shouldn't have gotten into the berries. Is, where am I going? And who's the lucky idiot who gets to enjoy my company?"

His eyes darted between the rest of them, smirk more infectious with each passing target. It was distracting enough that Garrett didn't think anyone else had noticed Ashe tensing up and muttering to himself. "Not me, not me, not me..."

"That would be Ashe."

Or maybe Isidro had noticed too. "Damn it."

Garrett thought he saw an injured frown flash across Lonriad's face, but it lasted just a second if it was ever there at all. "Sounds like I have a new best buddy. Which quadrant do we get?"

"Southeast. Cas, you and Searle take the northeast; that leaves Garrett and me the southwest." Isidro tore a chunk out of the fish and twirled the fork in front of him as he checked for hair-thin bones. "Any questions?"

Ashe opened his mouth.

"That don't have to do with trading partners?"

And closed it.

Garrett shot the kid an apologetic smile; Bernardo grinned too, but a teasing sort of grin.

"Sorry, Ashe. Who would've thought my little cousin here would grow up to be a hard-ass?"

Bernardo's little cousin's fist hit the table. "'Nardo, just shut up and eat your damn breakfast."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Rona Is Sparked and Sparked Again

January 5, 1178

Jadin blinked and Isidro's brow knotted. Bernardo took one step into the room and stopped to gape. "Uh, Rona?" Her brother-in-law twisted his mouth into a grimace as he searched for the right words. "Aren't you supposed to be naked?"

Hmph. She'd be sure to tell her sister he'd sounded disappointed--whenever her sister sobered up, at any rate. "They were all pretty drunk."

"And they just left you here?"

Not sure what else she had, Rona offered an apologetic shrug. "I guess they forgot what they were supposed to be doing?"

Frowning, Isidro glanced down at the still-made bed and shook his head. "Shouldn't have believed her when she said she'd go easy on the liquor."

"What's the matter?"

Bernardo stepped aside to make way for Ashe. Embarrassed, Rona tried to smile but barely managed a flash of her teeth. Her husband--God, that was a strange thought--glanced her over and returned it with a warmer grin. Not that she could have expected any less, she supposed. Ashe didn't do cold. "I take it the ladies were a bit...?"

Jadin snickered. "Wasted? Sounds like it. On the plus side, I guess we're all getting laid tonight."

Isidro groaned. "Do you ever have any thoughts that don't somehow involve your penis?"

"Please don't answer that." A little annoyed, Jadin's open mouth shut. Ashe shot Rona an uneasy wink before changing the subject. "Uh... is Electra still awake, by any chance?"

If her presence at the banquet had been any indication, Rona doubted Electra could find the laces even if she was. "She didn't pick the best night to try wine."

His men exchanged a few strained looks; Ashe himself, however, just stepped forward and gestured toward the door. "It's all right. You three get back to your wives; from the sounds of it, they'll be needing you to hold back their hair pretty soon."

Isidro's eyes narrowed and Bernardo's face scrunched, but neither argued--Isidro even grabbed Jadin by the arm and dragged him along with them. All six boots now safely in the other room, Bernardo shut the door; Rona and her bridegroom were alone.

"You're so beautiful." He rested one hand on her arm and slipped the other around her side and to her back, fingers running along her spine. "I know I've said it a dozen times today, but... God."

"Mmm." She supposed she ought to tell him how handsome he looked, but she already had; they hadn't both avoided the fear of redundancy. Or maybe that wasn't what she feared at all. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for the laces."

"So you're my maid for the night, then?" He gave a nervous sort of laugh, then ushered her further into the room where the light was a little better. "Better you than Jadin, I suppose."

"I'll say." He fished out the start of the concealed lace from the back of the lining and pressed a swift kiss to her neck, one of many places she'd never been kissed before. His lips left a spark as a souvenir and it shot through the rest of her flesh; she wondered where else he might kiss her tonight. "Do you think you could get your hair while I take care of your dress?"

Nodding, Rona removed the blossoms from their blond bounds, letting them fall to the floor as she undid the knot. Hair rained down in front of her face but missed Ashe's fingers by a good few inches; they had taken to the laces as ducklings to the pond--gentle, efficient, even practiced. "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

"Uh... beginner's luck?" He sounded sheepish. She didn't need to turn around to see his hesitant smile. "Done. I'm going to let it fall now--is that all right?"

She nodded and he did as he'd promised. The gown slipped down her form and cascaded to a silken pool around her ankles. It was done. Her wedding day was over and her wedding night would soon begin. She'd never wear that dress again. Perhaps some years down the road it would relive its day of glory on the body of her freckly, green-eyed daughter.

"Is it wicked of me to say you're even prettier naked?"

Relieved that he hadn't noticed just how fat she was without any fabric to hold it all in, Rona giggled. "A little--but I can't say I mind."

She stepped forward from the discarded dress and he picked it up with a cautious grip, shaking it out and folding it as he made his way toward the dresser. How many men folded clothes? Ashe did, apparently. He even seemed to know how to deal with such gowns. "Really--you swear you've never done this before?"

Ashe laughed as he placed the dress in the drawer, continuing to do so as he pulled his tunic over his head. "All right, you caught me--I was once lady's maid to the most brilliant, ravishing, altogether enchanting noblewoman in all of Europe."

A small smile coming on, Rona stifled a snort. "You're such a liar."

Still chuckling, Ashe kicked off his boots and proceeded to the hosen. Whatever modesty Rona had left compelled her to focus on his lightly-toned torso. She would look upon his lower half before the night was up, but with all the fuss of such a hasty wedding she hadn't had much time to brace herself for the sight. For now, the upper was more than sufficient. "Nice biceps."

"What can I say? I aim to impress." And yet, she thought she caught a hint of a blush. He laid his clothes to rest in the drawer and returned to her. She'd seen grown men's chests before--overheated workers did like to take their shirts off, and any woman was bound to walk past construction every once in a while--but never up close. The sculpted detail was nothing short of art, each groove and indent a precise highlight. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," Rona admitted, though in truth it was a slight understatement. "Are you?"

"Honestly? Terrified." He flashed her a twitch of a grin as his arm wove beneath hers one more. She worried that he might be aiming for her ass, but his fingertips instead landed on the small of her back. The spark from the neck-kiss surged once again. "But the good sort of terrified. I love you, Rona. I love you, and you're all I've ever wanted and more."

Rona didn't know much about love. How to answer that was no exception.

Not wanting to say nothing, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself against him. He kissed her forehead and she distracted herself with the sight of his neck. "You're not quite naked. You're still wearing my key."

He slipped his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her to eye-level, nose to nose, mouth to mouth. "Told you I'd never take it off."

NEXT CHAPTER: