Page 19 of Of Glass and Ashes

His lips are close to mine and I want to move closer to them, to lose myself in them entirely, but I cast around for a reason I shouldn’t.

“We need to talk about—”

“Literally nothing that we haven’t already discussed to death. Helga and Gunnar have our security taken care of, and there’s nothing else we can plan right now.” He doesn’t move closer, though, and I know he understands the real reason I am stalling.

I know, too, that he will accept without offense or judgment if I back away from him, if I move to the other side of the carriage.

That knowledge emboldens me to move ever so slightly forward.

“Perhaps it is time for a break,” I allow, my mouth so close to his that our breaths converge into a single misty cloud.

The sight tugs at something low in my belly, and still, he doesn’t move. Finally, I give into myself, erasing the remaining space between us.

Whatever heat I felt from him a moment ago explodes into something else entirely when my mouth meets his, when my tongue darts out to taste him. For all that I have struggled to escape the maddening rote of the thoughts and plans marching through my mind, every single one of them dissipates in this moment.

All I know, all I feel, is Einar.

His hand goes to my waist, pulling me even tighter against him, and the other tangles in my midnight hair.

I drink in the feel of his skin against mine, losing myself in the way I can almost believe that this tiny bubble of reality is all there is, that there is no Madame and no nightmares and no inevitable death waiting on the horizon.

I can almost believe we might be free of her one day.

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