Page 130 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

“Relationship?”

“Partnership,” he corrects. “Really, Minnie. Here I am going against my manly pride to tell you how much stronger than me you are and you’re misconstruing my words.”

“But you said relationship?—”

“You misheard. Partnership,” he emphasizes.

“But—”

“So the situation is now settled, no?” He interrupts me.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet.

“I suppose so,” I mutter, still a little unsure.

“Excellent. Now we can discuss what I have learned.”

My ears prick at that.

“What did you learn?”

He smiles at me.

“I was out late last night because I was conducting some research of my own. You said you can channel spiritual energy from an object.”

I nod.

“Would a magical object work?”

“Magical?” I frown.

“Used by a witch,” he clarifies.

“But where would we find a witch?” I ask as I get to my feet and dust my nightgown. Mine is dressed in a white shirt and a pair of loose pants, nothing scandalous, nothing interesting. So why are my eyes straying to his side? Why can’t I help the waymy gaze rakes over his body, noting each hard muscle and the way it pushes against the material of the shirt.

I swallow hard—audibly so.

Good thing he is too focused on bringing me a tray of food to notice. Though I could always blame my reaction on the food.

“I don’t know about finding a witch. But we might be able to find objectsusedby a witch. They should work, no?”

“If they’re imbued with magic,” I reply absentmindedly.

He pulls a chair for me to sit at the table—we’ve already converted his desk to a table—and lays in front of me an assortment of breakfast items.

My mouth salivates at the sight and smell of them.

There is my daily donut, of course, but a variety of scones with butter and jam on the side accompany it. That is just the sweet part of the meal. Next is the savory, which is comprised of bread, ham, and three types of cheeses.

I have to wonder where he could have procured this from. Army food might be a tad better than civilian food, but it’s still nothing fancy.

Nothing likethis.

It’s an entire feast—and it’s just breakfast.

I should probably question him about it, but later. Now it’s eating time.

Before he takes a seat next to me, he brings over an electric kettle and pours hot water into two cups, each containing a tea bag.

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