Published May 2016, and here I am 5 years later... LOL
Be kind with the reviews, ok? It's been too long, so long that I actually had to read my own story again just so I remember where I was going with this one haha...
Why can't you hold me in the street?
Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?
I wish that it could be like that
Why can't we be like that? 'Cause I'm yours...
- Little Mix, "Secret Love Song"
CHAPTER 6
"You are, by far, the most domineering man I have ever met in my entire life!" Diana declared emphatically, forehead wrinkling in a frown.
"Says the woman who spent all that time cocooned in an island paradise!" Blake returned her annoyed look with one of his own. "Like I said, I will not allow you to go running around in London looking like that!" He gestured angrily at Diana's peplos.
"Allow me?" Diana's voice raised an octave. "Allow me? No man can tell me what I can and cannot do!"
"You stubborn - "
"Stubborn! Ha!" Diana interjected with a mirthless laugh. "You're one to talk, you -"
A discreet clearing of throat made the arguing couple whirl around ready to bite off the head of whoever it was that dared interrupt.
"Lady Diana, Master Blake," Alastair maintained his austere façade despite having twin glowers leveled at him. "Mdm. Beaumont has arrived."
Diana opened her mouth to argue but Blake beat her to it. "Good," he bit out curtly. "Then perhaps you can convince this hellion that blending in as much as she can is a wise move!" Blake spun on his heel and strode purposefully to his desk.
"Don't you dare turn your back on me!" Diana declared hotly.
Blake slammed an open palm on his desk in frustration. "Enough, Diana!"
"Begging your pardon, my lady," Alastair quickly put a light but restraining hand on Diana's shoulder when he saw that Diana was not about to back down from the argument. "Would it not be most prudent to pursue this matter when both of you are in a far more amiable disposition?"
"I doubt if he ever is in an 'amiable disposition,' Alastair," Diana retorted drily. "He strives to be belligerent, it seems."
"He is quite skilled at that, my lady," Alastair agreed with a deadpan look on his face. "Much to my eternal dismay." He gestured silently toward the door.
"So be it," Diana agreed grudgingly. She paused by the door and looked over her shoulder. "And Blake?"
Blake straightened, back tensing, refusing to turn to face Diana.
"This is not over," Diana promised as she walked out.
Blake forced himself to calm down when he heard his office door click shut. He ran his hand through his thick, dark hair and massaged the back of his neck, trying to relieve his pounding headache. He walked around his table and plopped onto his chair, staring hard into the fireplace.
He had long ago mastered the art of being impassive. Ever since his family perished in the fire, he had vowed to never let anybody too close, knowing that allowing himself to feel would only give other people the power to hurt him. But in the three days since he brought Diana home to his townhouse, she had turned his life upside down, never failing to evoke some sort of emotional response from him. And she did it without even trying.
He did not like it.
He did not like how pleased he felt when he saw Diana already in the dining room when he walked in for breakfast. He did not like the way his heart skipped a beat when she greeted him with that beautiful smile of hers. He did not like how he enjoyed bantering with her, relishing her quick wit and candor. He did not like how he was so impressed by her tactical mind and practical outlook when they started discussing how to go about solving the case.
He did not like her fiercely independent spirit - it exhilarated him every time she challenged him. He did not like her warrior's courage - it awakened a protective side of him that he did not know he possessed. He did not like the way she looked at him - her eyes full of warmth and compassion, seemingly seeing into the very depths of his dark soul, seeing all his secrets while keeping all of hers.
Sleep did not give him any reprieve. His recurring dream made sure of that. The nightmare had evolved into something else. It started out the same but...
He peered through the dark, misty woods like an animal scenting danger... The feeling of trepidation began to throb within his chest... He fled, an inexplicable fear seizing his heart in a tight grip... And then, he saw her walking up ahead... a figure in a dark cloak... Diana... He ran toward her, terror lending his feet wings... but he still was not fast enough...
"Diana!" Blake called out in desperation. A surge of relief went through him when she stopped and turned.
"Blake," she smiled and held out her hand to him.
The fog behind her shifted and thickened... I AM THE NIGHT... an ominous voice echoed through Blake's head... the heavy mist began to coalesce into a hideous form... I AM VENGEANCE... a monstrous, bloodthirsty, giant bat...
"Diana!" he yelled, willing his legs to run faster. "Behind you!"
But he was too late. Diana gasped as the creature's sharp wingtip lanced through her chest... "NO!" He let out a horrified scream... and then, she was in his arms... lifeless...
Please, God, he begged... I'll do anything... Just give me one more chance...
He did not like how he woke up filled with profound loss and guilt. The vision of Diana bloodied and dying in his arms twisted his gut in ways he could not begin to comprehend. And try as he might, he could not quell the agony of seeing her die and the torment of guilt in knowing it was somehow his fault.
He did not like being unable to control his emotions, how Diana was making him feel completely and utterly vulnerable. He did not like the fear and paranoia that gnawed at him.
He did not like it. He did not like it one single bit.
Blake gave a slight start when the grandfather clock chimed. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips when he realized that he had been brooding at his desk for an hour.
Bloody woman, he thought irately as he stood up. Keep your head on, Blake, he told himself and made a firm resolution to double his efforts in controlling the situation.
But it was not enough to shake the feeling of impending doom.
Mdm. Beaumont was the leading dressmaker for the privileged and influential. Society's crème de la crème clambered against each other for a spot on the woman's perpetually busy calendar. She was well known for being strict and exacting, often imposing her way on her customers - and the genteel ladies of the nobility gladly yielded to her demands, secure in the knowledge that wearing a Beaumont original will add to their prestige, especially since she charged such exorbitant fees. Angeletta Beaumont always had her way.
And thus, the illustrious modiste had struggled to maintain her dignified visage when Diana firmly decided against wearing a corset. It took every ounce of her rigid self-control not to look scandalized when Diana adamantly refused the pannier and petticoats stating that they will get in the way of fighting. But Mdm. Beaumont finally acquiesced seeing as how Diana filled out her dress wonderfully, her artistic eye appreciating the Amazon's natural beauty.
"Absolument magnifique," Mdm. Beaumont whispered approvingly as she watched Diana inspect herself in the full-length mirror, while her two assistants added on the finishing touches.
"Merci, madame. You are too kind," Diana replied in perfect French.
"Non," the distinguished dressmaker shook her head emphatically. "I speak only the truth. I have dressed many but none as beautiful as you. Enjoy your evening, Mademoiselle Diana." With a small curtsy, Mdm. Beaumont, along with her assistants, left the room, eagerly anticipating that her handiwork will make waves tonight.
Diana absentmindedly checked herself in the mirror one last time. We should be out there looking for Eris, not attending another ball, she thought with an impatient shake of her head.
This was the main point of contention between her and Blake earlier. For three days, she had stayed cooped up in Blake's opulent townhouse doing nothing but talk about which strategy was best. She had counseled - nay - urged immediate action, knowing full well that the longer Eris remained unchecked, the more mayhem she was likely to create. But Blake insisted upon meticulous planning and discretion stating that there were more factors to consider other than apprehending a wayward goddess. He had lectured her - lectured! - about the delicate balance of power and the possible ramifications of the different ways they could tackle the problem.
Diana knew something was brewing. Blake was always out at night, returning in the wee hours of the morning. On several occasions, she had observed Blake speaking to Alastair, after which, the trusty butler would disappear for most part of the day. Upon his return, Blake and Alastair would be cooped up in Blake's office for hours.
That infuriating man needs to have a plan for everything! Diana groused. Admittedly, she understood Blake's point of view even as she felt that time was of the essence. Had she failed to see the logic behind his reasoning, she would have slipped away at night and continued her hunt for Eris. Fortunately, she saw sense in what Blake was saying. But must he be so dictatorial with the way he goes about it? Diana ground her teeth in frustration.
She had tried her best to be reasonable but the last straw was when he decreed that she change her wardrobe otherwise she would have to stay behind to avoid 'attracting too much attention.' What's worse, he had gone about the process of acquiring her one without so much as consulting her. It was petty, Diana knew. But she had had just about enough of his autocratic manner.
Diana tried to smooth her face into a semblance of composure as she made her way down the stairs leading into the foyer. You need to calm down, Diana, she reminded herself sternly. Her instincts and logic were warring against each other, leaving her uncertain of which one to follow. Mighty Athena, she prayed, grant me the wisdom.
A small movement in the corner of her eye took her out of her reverie. Diana turned her head slightly and looked right into Blake's eyes. She could not quite decipher the look on his face. Blake, who was never clumsy, was gawking at her awkwardly.
"What?" Diana lifted an eyebrow.
"I..." Blake blinked rapidly then scowled. "We should get going."
"Lead the way," Diana replied, keeping her tone neutral in an effort to maintain the tenuous peace. She looked at him in confusion when he wordlessly held out his right arm.
"It is customary for a gentleman to offer his arm thus," Blake explained quietly. "And for a lady to hold on to him like so." He reached for her hand and placed it on the crook of his elbow.
"To hold on like I'm a -"
"Have a good evening, Lady Diana, Master Blake," Alastair intoned as he held the front door open for them, saving Diana from voicing out a likely inflammatory remark.
"Thank you, Alastair," Diana graced the butler with a smile. Blake, on the other hand, just grunted his acknowledgment. She allowed Blake to lead her down the steps and into his awaiting coach.
"The shortest route to Routhley Manor, Deacon," Blake instructed his coachman.
"Aye, sir," Deacon O'Donnell saluted smartly as he closed the door.
Diana looked out the window as they rode past the streets of London. The silence was becoming pressingly thick between her and Blake. That she could feel his intense gaze upon her did not help ease the tension in the slightest. She wondered if there was any way to defuse this potentially explosive mood.
To Diana's surprise, Blake seemed to be in a far more conciliatory disposition than her.
"Diana," he began in a soft but firm tone. "For what it's worth, we are not going to this party for fun. I have it on good authority that Lady Louisa may be in attendance as well."
"Who told you of this?" Diana asked.
"Alastair, confirmed by Deacon," Blake replied promptly. "Do not underestimate the servants' grapevine." He elaborated when he saw her questioning look.
"I need you to reconsider my earlier suggestion about your identity, Diana," Blake continued.
"More like an edict," Diana countered.
"Please." The request sounded so alien, so strangled that Diana almost laughed.
"Very well," Diana finally obliged. I can allow him this, in the spirit of compromise, she decided. But I will not let my affection for him turn me into a mere subject of his will. "We do it your way, Blake. For now. But if that fails, we shall do it my way."
"Mr. Blake McCain and Ms. Diana Prince!" the under-butler declared in a booming voice.
The announcement caused an immediate stir among the party-goers in the ballroom, who all turned and looked up the balcony.
"So much for not attracting attention," Diana whispered dryly.
Blake "the Rake" got into character and plastered his most disarming smile on his face, the smile that never failed to make women swoon.
The smile that had no effect on Diana.
"Is this truly, absolutely necessary?" She scowled at him.
Blake sent up a silent curse but maintained his seductive expression and leaned closer. Outwardly, he looked like he was whispering innuendos into Diana's ear. "You agreed to play along, Diana. Looking at me with a disapproving glower is not exactly very lover-like."
Diana bared her teeth in a tight smile.
"Surely, you can do better than that," Blake coaxed. He knew that Diana would turn heads in this gathering and passing her off as his new mistress was the only way he could think of to keep her off limits to the men of the ton - and to keep the ladies away from him as well - for a short time. That was all he needed anyway. With Diana looking like she did tonight, he had no doubts that some of these mincing fops would actually muster up the courage to ask for an introduction. It had taken all of his self-control to keep his hands off her when he saw her come down the stairs earlier this evening wearing a dress that showcased all her lush assets to perfection.
He racked his brains for something - anything - to make Diana look more convincing. "Unless..." Blake trailed off suggestively.
"Unless what?" the furrow in Diana's forehead deepened.
"Unless you're afraid that you'll get carried away..."
Diana's eyes flashed with indignation. "I am not and I certainly will not."
"Then prove it," Blake threw down the gauntlet smoothly with a lopsided grin, instinctively knowing that Diana would not back down.
Diana bit her lip and looked away. You can't do this if you don't let go, a silent voice inside her said. Let go, Diana. Let go.
She closed her eyes, mentally steeling herself as she decided to heed the advice. She tore at the heavy gates that dammed up several lifetimes of emotions. And for the first time in centuries, she allowed herself to fully remember, forced herself to relive the pain of loss. She steeled herself against the memories that she thought would buffet her with relentless grief. But to her surprise, she felt...
... At peace. The corners of her lips curled up into a bittersweet smile.
She saw herself trailing Baerius in the forests of Sparta and remembered how fascinated she was to see a man up close. She remembered the raw power that emanated from him. She remembered Bryce. Chivalrous and romantic Bryce. She recalled the light-hearted talks while walking hand in hand and the stolen kisses underneath the twinkling stars.
She remember him - the good and the bad. And always, in whatever lifetime, she remembered his silent strength and steadfast courage. Always the valiant and selfless warrior until every single bitter end. She remembered the spark that ignited between two souls a long, long time ago. She remembered how hot the flame of passion burned...
Diana turned her head to meet Blake's gaze. She heard his sharp and sudden intake of breath and felt the muscles of his forearm convulse when he saw the emotions evoked by every single memory reflected in the deep blue pools of her eyes.
"Challenge accepted," Diana whispered softly.
"Well, there you are ole chap!"
Blake blinked at the gentleman who gave him an enthusiastic clap on the shoulder.
"Why, I'll be damned. The poor man is speechless," teased the tall, muscular man whose startling violet eyes twinkled mischievously as his gaze went back and forth between Blake and Diana. "And it is not difficult to surmise why."
"Oh, do stop tormenting him, dear," the lady by his side chastised laughingly. "Hello, Blake."
Blake smiled fondly at the woman. "Your Grace, it is always a pleasure." He gently pulled Diana forward. "May I present Ms. Diana Prince?" Blake angled his head to Diana. "Diana, meet Lawrence and Caillen, the Duke and Duchess of Kent."
"Your Grace," Diana greeted the friendly couple with a small nod.
The duchess reached out for Diana's hands. "Shall we dispense with the formalities, Diana? Please call me Caillen." Diana felt an instant kinship with the noblewoman.
"Indeed," Lawrence averred. "It is our pleasure to meet you, Diana. And allow me the liberty of saying that any friend of Blake's is a friend of ours as well."
Diana glanced questioningly at Blake.
"Your secret is yours to tell," Blake said softly. "But you can trust them."
"Now that we're all acquainted," Lawrence gave Blake a meaningful look. "Perhaps you and I should talk about that, um, business venture that you mentioned?"
"Yes, of course," Blake nodded. "If you'll excuse us, ladies."
A confused frown marred Diana's brow. "But aren't we supposed to -"
"Come, Diana," Caillen twined her arm around Diana's as if they were the best of friends. "I would love to show you the gardens."
"But -"
"It will serve you well to emulate Caillen, Diana," Blake interrupted smoothly. "She is the epitome of how a lady should behave."
"She is, isn't she?" Lawrence chuckled and beamed proudly at his wife. "But little do they know that within lies a heart of a hero."
"Oh, do stop it, you two," Caillen blushed prettily. "Let's go, Diana. Before the entire ton swoops down upon us. As it is, I am absolutely positive that they are already dying from curiosity as to who you might be. The Earl of Rockwell has never taken his eyes off of you since your arrival was announced."
"Blake, wait," Diana began as the two men started to walk away.
"I have been tasked to bring you to the gardens so that all four of us may be able to speak more freely about your mission," Caillen murmured, all the while maintaining her smile. "We were supposed to discuss some issues during the ball that Lawrence and I hosted three nights past but Blake never made it. I am under the assumption that you may have been the reason for that?"
Diana gave her a startled look.
"Come, now. From what I understand, time is of the essence," Caillen said softly. She started to guide Diana adeptly through their curious onlookers. Her regal grace, along with her fiery red hair, made her stand out in the sea of pale blondes and mousy brunettes. She had on a friendly smile but her bearing somehow conveyed that she did not want any intrusion imposed upon them.
"Regardless of what Lawrence and Blake may say, I will never be one of them, you know," Caillen said conversationally, nodding amiably to a group of ladies to her right.
"I am not certain that I understand," Diana replied carefully.
"I am a Scot, Diana," the duchess said matter of factly, as if the statement explained everything.
"I apologize if I sound dense, Caillen. But I still do not see the relevance," Diana shook her head. "In my homeland, it matters not where someone comes from. We are all sisters."
"Typical Blake," Caillen chuckled. She led Diana through the massive double doors leading to a grand marble patio overlooking a well-manicured lawn and labyrinth. "He never told you anything, did he?"
Diana gave her new found acquaintance a wry smile.
"Ah, where to begin with the tale?" Caillen pursed her lips in concentration.
"Blake and I grew up together in Scotland," Cailled started to explain. "And at some point, I thought I would end up marrying him." She patted Diana's arm in a reassuring manner. "But we do not love each other in that way, however. He was - and still is - my best friend. Our families were close and it was the supposed natural progression of things."
"I..." Diana hesitated, unsure of how to properly explain her relationship with Blake. "It's complicated."
"It always is where Blake is concerned," Caillen rolled her eyes. "Anyhow, my father was heir apparent of the Laird of Clan McCallum but my treacherous uncle wanted the position for himself and began a civil war amongst the clan members. It was a horrible time."
"In a desperate move to save his only child," Caillen continued as they went down the staircase leading to the maze. "My father sent me here to England to marry me off to the Earl of Lexington."
"You did not suit well, I take it?" Diana deduced.
"An odious man most assuredly," Caillen shuddered. "But that is a story for another time. The important thing is for you to have a glimpse of what Blake's life was like so that you may be able to at least begin to understand why he is the way he is."
"Around the same time that I got sent here," Caillen resumed her tale. They walked through the elaborate network of shrubs, topiaries, reflection pools and fountains. "Blake began to make plans to take his family away from the strife of being caught in the middle of a clan at war. He is a brilliant man and succeeded much in life. But alas, all that success was for naught."
Diana's heart started to throb painfully. "What... happened?"
"He came home to find that his entire family had perished in a fire," Caillen revealed. She looked down as if ashamed. "It was whispered that my uncle had commanded it because Blake's father and mine were close friends. Blake sought justice for his family but he could not prove it. Even will all his money and power, he could not prove it."
"In a way, he continues to seek justice until now. His life has been defined by pain and loss. And he takes it ever so hard, Diana. The scariest part is, he will fight to hold on to the pain. He covers it well but it festers deep within and I fear that it will destroy him in the end."
"We're a stubborn lot, us Scots," Caillen gave Diana a somber smile. "Over the years, I have learned to adjust and live amongst the English and to some extent, I believe I may have convinced them to accept me as one of them. But in my core, I will always be alien to them. As will Blake. Ní mar a síltear a bítear. That means -"
"- Things may not be as they seem to be," Diana translated unconsciously.
Caillen blinked in surprise. "You speak Gaelic?"
"I was given the gift of tongues," Diana answered simply.
"'Tis a useful skill to be sure," Caillen looked at her in admiration. "Ah! Here we are."
The two men turned to face them.
"You were not followed?" Blake asked brusquely.
Caillen shook her head. "Insofar as I can tell."
"Diana, I do apologize for having to meet in such a clandestine manner. We would have called at Blake's place sooner but I'm told caution is necessary," Lawrence said.
"Perhaps we won't be as confused if we were kept abreast of the situation?" Caillen stated, pointedly looking at Blake.
"Which is exactly why we are here so don't you start with me, Cay," Blake scowled at his childhood friend. "I have my reasons for not divulging everything."
"Oh, Blake," Caillen said sadly.
"Stop it, you two," Lawrence interrupted. He shot Blake a dirty look for talking so bluntly to his wife. "Caillen is right, Blake, and you know it."
The duke turned to Diana. "Diana, I am one of the investors in The Daily Gazetteer and I am, shall we say, one of the part-time writers as well."
"My husband is one of the very few nobles who are very hands-on in their investments," Caillen told Diana proudly. "He truly does enjoy working."
"As does Caillen," Blake interjected blandly.
"I actually write some of the articles that are published under Lawrence's name," Caillen admitted, modestly. "High society will collectively faint should it be revealed that a woman of my standing has more valuable pursuits than what to wear to the next soiree."
"Ní mar a síltear a bítear," Diana murmured, seeing Caillen under a different light.
"And as such," Lawrence continued. "We are privy to the goings-on around here even before the public knows about it. More importantly, we have better knowledge of what happens behind the news."
"From what I've read, the trouble in your colonies is getting worse," Diana said, carefully choosing her next words. "It would seem your King is determined to keep agitating the Americas by not acknowledging their independence. If he continues, this will result to an all-out war."
"Believe me, Diana, the ministers have been advising him against his current path," Lawrence told her. "Of course, no king will willingly surrender such a large territory. This is truly a more complex situation but to keep it short and simple, majority question His Majesty's sanity. However, there are a few of us who believe that a greater hand is at work. Who and to what end, we do not yet know."
"Greater hand, indeed," Blake said. "It has been a little over a sennight now since the King has set me on a task to..." The duke's and duchess' eyes widened in astonishment as Blake told them of the bizarre circumstances surrounding his mission for the King. "... And from what we have been able to gather, there is indeed a group of... people who are hell-bent on seeing a war erupt in the Americas."
"But your King is not altogether insane," Diana said after Blake finished explaining his part of the story. She produced her lasso from a pocket hidden among the many folds and layers of her dress. She wrapped the golden rope around her wrist, mildly surprised when she did not feel her strength ebb away like it did when Blake captured her with it. "This is the Lasso of Truth. It compels anybody to speak no lie." She took a deep breath and the lasso started to glow. "I am Diana of Themyscira, daughter of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons..."
"A Dhía..." Caillen plopped down onto one of the marble garden benches with one hand over her heart when Diana finished with her story.
Lawrence gave a low whistle. "I will need a moment to wrap my head around this... this all seems so... outlandish."
Caillen visibly shook herself. "Be that as it may, it does coincide with what our informant told us, Lawrence."
"One of our sources says Lady Louisa's footman delivered a letter to Captain Welling in the Southampton docks four days ago," Caillen answered Blake's and Diana's questioning looks.
"Said letter bore the seal of the King," Lawrence added. "It requested Captain Welling's 'unquestioning loyalty and discretion' in transporting something of 'great import.' Valuable enough, evidently, to merit chartering the entire ship. It leaves tomorrow - before first light, I'm told."
"That only gives us a few hours," Blake rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. Diana could almost hear the wheels in his head turning. "I know Captain Welling well. I believe I will be able to get on that ship."
"We will be able to get on that ship," Diana corrected, emphatically. She plunged on before Blake could make an argument. "It is my mission to bring Eris back."
"Somebody will have to tell the King," Caillen said quietly.
"I'll go," Lawrence volunteered, unhesitatingly.
Blake made an annoyed sound. "No, Lawrence."
"Why ever not?" Lawrence protested.
"Elementary, my dear, Lawrence," Blake scoffed impatiently. "George never said so - but he did not ask me to do this because he trusts me per se. He asked me because he knows that I do not have any political biases and have absolutely nothing to gain by favoring one side. In so doing, he ensures that whatever information I give him will be untainted."
"You, my unfortunate friend, are a duke of the realm. Which means he will not believe anything you say simply because he knows that you have your allegiances. You will have your head handed to you on a silver platter if you go."
"It is settled then," Caillen stood up calmly from where she sat. "Blake and Lawrence will go and tell the King. While Diana and I will investigate the docks and stop that ship from sailing if necessary."
"What?! Have you gone mad?" exclaimed Lawrence.
"Caillen is right," Diana reinforced. "You need to be the one to tell your King, Blake. You need to convince him that Lawrence's information is reliable. I will deal with Eris."
"No," Blake said with cool finality. He raised his hand when he saw the two women were about to argue.
"I will go and speak with George, yes - but you," Blake pointed at Caillen. "... Will accompany me since George will perceive you as a credible enough source yet less of a threat than your husband. Lawrence and Diana will go to the docks with a missive from me to Captain Welling which should gain you entry to his ship."
"Very well," Lawrence nodded. "Let's be about it, then."
"A moment, if you please, Diana," Blake said. The duke and duchess nodded at the couple as they made their way out of the maze.
Diana and Blake stood staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Blake gave a sigh as he ran his hand through his hair.
"I don't even know where to begin," he threw his hands up in a helpless gesture. "There is more to this, isn't there?" Blake asked bluntly, knowing full well that it wasn't even a question.
"Blake, I…" Diana began.
Blake held up his hand. "I will not ask it of you now. But if we get out of this alive, will you consider telling me?"
"It is unlike you to ask nicely," Diana could not help but laugh. "So, yes, I will tell you when the time comes."
"Very well," Blake smirked and stepped closer. His hands snaked around her waist and he pulled her to him almost impatiently. His lips swooped down and he kissed her, briefly, firmly and then he let her go.
"I'd hate to die without getting at least that."