“You finally escaped the crowds too,” she said, walking toward him.
He met her halfway. “It was a battle hard-fought but worth it. I found you again.” His gaze swept over her. “I didn’t think you could be more beautiful. I was wrong.”
She blushed at the compliment. “You’re very kind.”
“No, I’m very honest.”
“Then I will be as well,” she said. “You look magnificent in your finery, and I know I wasn’t the only woman in that room to think so. Was your cousin happy to win one of the roses?”
“Ecstatic.” He angled his body ever so slightly toward hers as she drew ever closer. “She’s the envy of her sisters at the moment and will be bragging about her rose the entire trip home, much to their disgust I’m sure. She was also the one who was sick.”
“Then the honey and ginger worked.” Emerence clapped her hands. “I’m delighted for her.”
Gaeres’s expression turned somber with a shadow of disappointment overlaying it. “I’d hoped you would join the dance so I could dance with you.”
“You know my reasons why I didn’t.” She touched his arm. “I would have liked to dance with you as well.”
Gaeres surveyed their surroundings. “We can dance together here,” he suggested. “Though we have no music.”
Anticipation beat delicate wings against her ribs. “I can hum the tune.”
His grin surely matched her own. “Well then,” he said and held out his hands to hers.
Their fingers entwined and soon they swayed and spun to the tune she hummed. There was no change in tempo to signal a switch in partners, and they danced together as the snow fell ever heavier on and around them.
Emerence forgot the cold as with each step that separated them, then brought them together again, Gaeres drew her ever closer until they no longer spun but only swayed, breast to chest. His arms wrapped snug around her waist, his hands pressed warm to her lower back. Emerence slid her arms over his wide shoulders to rest her fingers against his nape.
He was big and warm, solid and comforting in her arms. His breath tickled her neck and ear as he bent closer to whisper, “I hold the stars.”
She fancied herself too old to go weak-kneed over sweet words, but her knees shook and she sagged in his arms. Gaeres gathered her close until there was no space between them. Emerence leaned back to stare into his eyes. For a moment an odd trick of the lamp light seemed to edge his irises in a thin band of glowing blue. She blinked and it was gone. Only the soft blackness stared back at her.
“You’ve stopped humming,” he said softly.
“You can’t kiss me if I’m humming.”
Gaeres didn’t hesitate. He swooped down, captured her mouth with his and kissed her until she thought all her senses would explode from sheer pleasure.
He tasted of sweet wine, his lips firm but also soft, his tongue a deep caress that filled her mouth and invited her to do the same to him. Muscled arms held her not as if she were something fragile and easily broken but as something he desperately wanted to sink into, be enveloped by, revel in until he was exhausted. Sated. Her light moan only made him hold her tighter, kiss her more deeply.
“Gaeres?”
His name sounded from the direction of the doors. Emerence abruptly ended the kiss and Gaeres groaned a low voiced protest when she jerked out of his arms.
She stared at him wide-eyed. That was Dahran Sulti’s voice, and by the tone of her question, she hadn’t spotted her and Gaeres where they’d ended their dance by the giant conifer.
When he answered, his voice was calm, giving nothing away and completely at odds with his intense expression as he stared at Emerence. “I’m here, Aunt. Stay inside. The snow is coming down harder.”
“We’re ready to leave,” she said.
“I’ll join you in a moment.”
When the doors closed with a click, Emerence exhaled a sigh. “I don’t think she saw us.”
His regard didn’t lighten. “Would it have mattered if she did?”
The question took her aback for a moment and she hesitated before answering. “No,” she said. “Not for me at least.” She was neither embarrassed nor ashamed to return Gaeres’s affections, no matter how fleeting. If he’d been able to stay longer, she’d invite him to continue.
His expression eased and he coaxed her back into his arms. “Nor I,” he said and brushed a second, lighter kiss across her mouth. “I wish could stay, kiss you more, kiss you longer. Walk you to your house and see you tomorrow morning and all the days to come after, but we have to return home.”
“I would like that too,” she said, sliding a lock of his damp hair through her fingers. “But your family awaits you, and as you say, you must return. Thank you for the dance.” She trailed her thumb across his lips. “And for the kiss.”
She stepped out of his hold once more. If she didn’t put some distance between them, they’d end up locked in another passionate embrace. He let her go. Slowly, reluctantly.
“I don’t know if or when I’ll return to Timsiora,” he told her. “If I do, may I escort you home again?”
Kiss you again? Dance with you again?
Emerence heard all three questions in the one he spoke. She smiled, a difficult expression now that melancholy shadowed her heart at his leaving and the very real possibility she might never see him again. “Come back to Timsiora and I will answer you,” she said.
He captured her hand and kissed her fingers. “Summer,” he said as he backed away. “Look for me when summer comes, Emerence Ipsan.” He bowed and left the garden to find his aunt and cousins.
Emerence listened for the door’s click. Only the towering conifer bore witness to her promise. “I will wait as the seasons turn. Wait and remember.”
Grace Draven is a Louisiana native living in Texas with her husband, kids and a big, doofus dog. She has loved storytelling since forever and is a fan of the fictional bad boy. She is the winner of the Romantic Times Reviewers Choice for Best Fantasy Romance of 2014 and 2016, and a USA Today Bestselling author.