"That I can manage." He raised my hand, kissed my fingertips, then disappeared.
I checked my phone to see if Ilianna—or anyone else for that matter—had called, then headed into the shower. By the time I'd dried my hair, dressed in comfortable jeans and an old sweater, Azriel had set the dining room table with not only a sandwich, but a glass of Coke and a steaming mug of coffee.
"You know," I said, as he pulled out a chair and seated me. "You might just become a keeper if you carry on like this."
He didn't immediately answer, but when he did, his voice was oddly formal. "And would you wish that, if the situation were different?"
I paused, the sandwich halfway to my mouth, and met his gaze. "If the situation were different, if we weren't who we were, and the option was there, yes, I would like that very much."
He nodded, and it oddly felt as if an agreement had been reached. I frowned, wondering what exactly that might have been, but his expression—or lack thereof—very much suggested he wasn't about to elaborate.
"Because there is nothing to elaborate," he said softly. "What happens next lies in the hand of the fates."
I swallowed against a suddenly dry throat and tried to ignore the tiny slivers of both hope and fear that began coursing through me. "Meaning there could be some way we could explore this thing further?"
While that possibility scared the hell out of me, I couldn't help the leap of excitement at the thought of being able to explore whether what was between us had the strength to blossom into something real and permanent.
But all he said was, "That is for the fates to decide."
"Then the answer is probably no, because fate and I have not been on friendly terms of late."
He didn't reply, and there was little to be read in his expression. I bit into my sandwich and had to bite back a groan of sheer pleasure. Besides sex and a cold glass of Coke, the best thing in life had to be a fabulous lamb sandwich.
My phone rang just as I finished my meal. The tone told me it was Jak, and my heart began to beat a whole lot faster. Something was wrong. I was certain of it even before I answered the damn thing. I pushed up from the table and ran across to my handbag, fishing around for several seconds before I found my phone.
"Jak," I said, my heart seeming to beat somewhere high in my throat. "What's up?"
"I need to talk to you. Urgently."