Page 91 of A War Apart

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. “May I join you?”

He reached for another chair as I nodded, but Izolda stood and stretched.

“Actually, I’ve got to head back. Lady Heli wants to be at morning prayers tomorrow, and I’ll hate myself if I spend all night out.”

“Some other time,” he replied, but he wasn’t looking at her. I could feel his eyes on me as I frowned at my friend.

“Since when do you care about getting to bed early?” I asked.

“‘The body is a gift from Otets and should be treated as his Sanctioned dwelling, even in the unSanctioned,’” she quoted. “Last week’s homily inspired me.”

Liar. She’d slept through most of last week’s homily. She was scheming to get me alone with Alexey. I glared at her, but she just winked.

“Make sure she gets back safe, Alexey. Night, Fia.” She flounced out of the inn with a wave.

I could still feel the pressure of Alexey’s gaze as he took a seat. “How are you?” he asked.

“Good.” I rolled the dice over between my hands, watching how they caught the light.

“Did you get my letter?”

I bit my lip. “I did.”

He was silent, waiting for me to continue.

“I wasn’t—” I started. “I didn’t—” I huffed, trying to gather my thoughts. “It wasn’t anything you did.”

He still didn’t speak. I looked up from the dice and found his dark eyes locked on me.

“Did you not want it?” His voice was quiet, raw with emotion.

“Otets’ Blood.” I rubbed my temples. I’d had weeks to prepare for this confrontation, and I still wasn’t sure what to say to him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He reached across the table and took my hands in his. “I meant what I said in the letter. If there’s anything I can do, I will, but don’t leave me in doubt. I need to know if you care for me at all.”

Otets help me, I did. My throat was too tight to speak, but I squeezed his hands.

“Do you?”

I nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact, and his breath came out in a rush. “My sun.” He raised my hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to each one.

“How long have you been back?” I asked, rubbing my thumbs over his knuckles. His hands were rougher than usual, and I didn’t know if it was from swinging a sword or riding.

“Not long. I came looking for you as soon as the baron released me.”

I laughed quietly. “I thought you looked a little…road-weary.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms, a stern expression on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sofia Stepanova. I never look anything less than perfect.”

I plucked a piece of mud from his sleeve and held it up. “Is that so?”

He chuckled. “Maybe a touch less than perfect. I would have changed, but I was in a hurry.”

“You waited three weeks, but another quarter hour was too much?”

“Yes,” he said earnestly. My breath caught at the intensity in his eyes.

“Well, you’ve found me. Maybe now you’d like to change into something cleaner?” My face heated as I realized the invitation my words implied, but I didn’t correct myself. I wanted him.

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