Page 107 of The Arrow and the Alder

Her gaze clung to his as tightly as her fingers clutched that little book, and the moment expanded. Josephine had never been more radiant, with all that joy pouring out of her and spilling onto him. Alder couldn’t pull his eyes away. She was utterly captivating with her huge blue eyes and those wisps of silvery-white hair curling from her face. Her lips were open a shade, so very plump and pink and kissable, and that was all he wanted to do. Kiss her. Here, now. Deep into her pillows. He wanted to kiss her until his mouth ached, until he couldn’t breathe, until he’d tasted every last inch of her.

Demas have mercy.

Her gaze moved over his face, and—to his surprise—she reached out and pressed her palm to his cheek. “What am I to do with you, AlderMarcusTiridium Vetiver?”

He caught her hand and turned it over, palm up, as he slowly brought it to his mouth. He should have left right then, but he couldn’t help himself. “Please don’t call me by my full name.”

“Why ever not?”

“It makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” He pressed the softest kiss to the underside of her wrist, and she shuddered.

“Youarein trouble.”

“And why is that?” He kissed her thumb next, and then her pointer finger.

“Because I tried so hard not to care for you, but you made it impossible.”

The place behind his breastbone constricted, and he kissed her middle finger next. And then her ring finger. “Now you know how I feel.” Her pinky. “And how I have felt every single day since I first laid eyes on you in the woods.”

“You knew who I was then?” she whispered.

He gazed at her over their joined hands, and the look in her eyes nearly undid him. With his other hand, he pushed back the wisps of hair from her forehead, and her eyelids shuttered. “I did. You fit your brother’s description exactly.”

“How so…?”

His fingers slid from her temple and down along her jawline to the soft indent in her chin. It was so strong and feminine and unyielding. “He said that you were the bravest woman he’d ever met. That you anchored yourself in truth, no matter how the world might try to toss you about. That you were his compass, that he wished he had half your constitution, and that you look a little bit like a lion.”

She mocked offense, though her eyes flashed with mirth. “So you think I look like a lion?”

Alder grinned and leaned closer still, their faces just a slip apart. He could hear her staggered breathing as he trailed his fingertips over her lips. “Oh, yes. I just hadn’t expected a lion could be so beautiful.”

Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Alder.”

“Yes?”

“Do you know…I don’t even know how old you are.”

He traced her exquisite features with his gaze, and all of its gorgeous color. “Does this bother you?”

“Yes,” she said, all breath, though it was mixed a little with despair. “You could have lived lifetimes.”

“I haven’t.”

“But you’ve already lived a long life, and I know nothing of it.”

There was so much vulnerability in her tone, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort every fear she was laying bare. “I am one hundred and twenty-three?—”

She jerked back. “One hundred and?—?!”

He pressed the pad of his thumb against her lips before she could finish. “I have lived a long life, I know. Too long, honestly, because I filled every single one of those years indulging in things that I thought would bring me pleasure, but they’ve all ended in nothing but torment, pain, and regret. It’s why I wandered for so long before gathering the courage to go to Harran. To do what I promised your brother. This was the one unselfish thing that I did, and then…there you were.”

Her expression broke just a little, and it emboldened him to go on.

“All that light and color and goodness…I’ve tried to stay away from you. Truly, I have, because I know it’s abominably selfish to drag you into the mire of my wretched life. But I can’t keep myself away, and Josephine…my little arrow, so sharp and so true…I have fallen in love with you.”

Those sky-blue eyes stared at him, huge and round and brimming with emotion. He was close enough that her breath brushed his lips, and it smelled faintly of honeysuckle.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered.

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