Page 68 of Veiled Yearning

“Yes.” My eyes burn with impending tears. “I didn’t know either. How it felt to be in love. But you showed me. Loving you is the most unbelievable feeling.”

“Ah, gorgeous.”

“I thought I was too broken to love. With all my flaws, how could anyone want to be with me? But you make me feel whole.”

“You are not broken.” He pulls me into his lap and presses a kiss to my forehead. “You are strong and smart and beautiful and I love everything about you.”

One stubborn tear forces its way free. “I love everything about you, too.”

As my heart swoops and soars, exhilaration sweeps through me.

I’m in love. Gavril loves me.

And we have the rest of the night to ourselves, in this romantic space Gavril created.

Shifting on his lap, I wrap my legs around his waist. Then I nuzzle his neck, reveling in the swell of his arousal pushing against me.

“I was thinking,” I start. “Since we have all night. And it’s so romantic here…”

“Ah.” One hand cradles my nape, tilting my head back, and his mouth descends on mine. Nipping, sucking, taking a small taste of blood, then teasing my lips open. Plunging inside, stroking my tongue with his, a tantalizing preview of what I’m hoping will soon follow.

His other hand cups my breasts, plucking at my nipple, drawing it into a sensitive peak.

On a gasp, Gavril pulls back, his eyes dark with desire. With a wicked little smile, he says, “I think we should definitely take advantage of our time alone.”

“And celebrate being in love?”

“Oh, yes.” He starts kissing a line down my neck, lingering at my pulse, and my womb clenches with need. “We should absolutely celebrate that.”

21

I Would Do Anything

GAVRIL

As soon as I walk into the kitchen holding Chiara’s hand, the room falls into silence.

All the chatter cuts off abruptly, and I see more than one person openly gaping.

Xavier, who I’ve known for over fifty years, stares at me as if I’ve sprouted a second head.

Titus blinks, which is the equivalent of abject shock for the solemn Sentinel.

And Circe drops her glass with a heavy clunk, splashing droplets of red across the sleek marble island.

With mostly newcomers crowded around the large island, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at their reaction.

The people who’ve been staying here for the last few weeks—Larkin, Knight, Lucas, Frederick, Cait—have been an audience to this thing between Chiara and I nearly from the start. They’ve seen us holding hands and hugging; they know not to disturb us in the library in the evenings. And they know Chiara and I are linked.

But for the others, who’ve only just arrived yesterday, seeing me showing any kind of affection has to be jarring.

Permanently single Gavril with a woman? Holding her hand? Looking at her like she’s the most breathtaking sight in the world? That’s not a Gavril they’ve ever seen.

Frederick and Cait are over by the window, watching the scene unfold. She’s grinning widely, while his lips are quirked in an amused little smile.

Paul, ever the self-proclaimed comedian—he’s not that funny, but he thinks he is—breaks the silence. “Is this Gavril? Or another Custodian in disguise?”

Xavier snorts quietly. Circe reaches across the island to smack Paul and hisses, “Don’t bring that up! You’ll upset her.”

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