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choose you, too.”
She felt the truth of his words echo into the
unbreakable thing that bound their very souls,
and tilted her face up toward his. But he made
no move beyond it.
She frowned. “Why aren’t you kissing
me?”
“I thought you might want to be asked
first.”
“That never stopped you before.”
“This first time, I wanted to make sure you
were ... ready.” After Cairn and Maeve. After
months of having no choices whatsoever.
She smiled despite that truth. “I’m ready to
be kissed again, Prince.”
He let out a dark chuckle and muttered,
“Thank the gods,” before he lowered his
mouth to hers.
The kiss was gentle—light. Letting her
decide how to guide it. So she did.