Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,74
desire, though that was a part of it. A weighty, wanting part of it. But it was happiness, too. Happiness so intense it made him light-headed.
“Don’t you want to test my theory?”
“What theory?”
“About this.” He kissed her again, long and slow, and the golden light that connected them glowed like a sunrise. “You remember when it first appeared, don’t you?”
Delphine made a soft, breathy noise against his lips that was better than a yes. Her fingers clutched in his hair.
They’d both felt the connection from the moment they first laid eyes on each other. But it wasn’t until they’d slept together that the light of the mate bond had started to flicker in their hearts.
“We could talk to the Heartwells,” she said. “Do some background research. Find out how they experienced the beginning of their mate bonds, compare what we’re feeling—”
“Don’t you dare,” he growled, and Delphine pressed her face into the crook of his neck and laughed.
“No,” she agreed. “I’m sick of looking to other people to know how I should behave and experience things. I want to find out for myself. With you.”
His griffin crooned.
“Now?” he suggested.
Delphine half-groaned, half-laughed into his shoulder but before he could decide whether he was joking or not and, bad manners or not, the scales were weighting towards not, a door opened and the swell of conversation rushed out towards them.
“I’ve got my eyes closed!” one of Delphine’s brothers called. “’Cos I don’t want to see whatever’s going on out here.” Laughter from the other room. “Lunch is ready, if you two want to get in before it all vanishes—”
“Or move further away!” someone else called. Delphine choked, her cheeks burning.
“Caught,” she muttered, and reluctantly unwound herself from his arms. “We’d better go in. No, wait…”
He waited while she thought, her bottom lip lightly caught between her teeth.
“Not we’d better,” she said after a moment. “But let’s. I haven’t had a good Christmas with my family in so long, and…” She stood on tiptoes to whisper into his ear. “…we still have the rest of the day to experiment with your theory. If that’s what we’re calling it.”
With that promise burning in his ear, Hardwick had to force himself to let her go and tidy his own clothes before they rejoined the others. Just before they reached the door, he hooked one arm around her waist and asked:
“What did you come out here for in the first place?”
“Before you distracted me?” Her teeth flashed in a smile, but her eyes were gentle. “I wanted to check on you. I didn’t think you’d want me to ask in front of everyone. How are you feeling?”
She pressed the back of one hand against his forehead. He took it and kissed it, trailing his lips across her fingertips. “How do you think?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Good enough to tease me about it, clearly.”
“I feel—” fine, he’d been about to say, before his griffin’s claws pricked warningly at him. “—better than I expected.”
“But still not fully healed.”
“It’s easier around the Heartwells. They don’t have any reason to lie in their own home, I guess.”
“Unlike my family.” Her eyes shadowed.
He tipped her head back until he could meet her gaze. “Your family here is fine, Delphine. They’re not hurting me.”
“Good.” There was more than just care for him in her eyes. The relieved love she had for her small, healed family washed over him… through the mate bond.
Hardwick closed his eyes and let it sink in. Then he returned what he was feeling, tentatively winding the emotions around the golden light that connected them.
Love. Ease. So much happiness he thought he might burst. And a determination that Delphine should have the Christmas she so badly deserved.
Delphine gasped. “Was that—?”
“Yes.”
Someone called them for lunch again, but they stayed where they were, sinking into one another’s eyes.
The same someone, or another one, knocked on the door. “You’ll miss out on the ham if you wait any longer!” they called.
“And the potatoes!”
“And the roast goose!”
Delphine shook herself. “Not fully healed,” she said vaguely, as though coming out of a dream. “You need to eat.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“And after that…” She kissed him lightly. “We’ll need some time on our own, won’t we, for you to heal properly? Another retreat.”
“Together.”
“Together,” she agreed.
The day had more surprises in store for them. After the meal, Jasper made good on his promise (or threat) of emergency presents. He had a store of them, apparently, kept safe in the attic for Christmas crises. Hardwick found himself