A half hour later, Damien stood and thanked those present for coming. Everyone else stood and bowed toward Damien. Selene dropped her lap cloth and stood as well.

“Would you like to stay for a bit?” he asked her as half of the room sat down, while the other half mingled or headed for the doorway.

“No, I’m ready to leave.”

He held out his arm. “Then let me escort you back to your room.”

Selene took his arm, her senses swimming with his essence, smell, and presence as he led her out into the hall. It felt like she was about to open a new chapter in the book of their lives, and she looked forward to the days ahead with eager expectation.

Damien stopped beside her door and turned toward her. His face glowed in the candlelight, his lips slightly parted, his eyes dark and full. “May I kiss you good night?” he said quietly.

Selene took a moment to compose the sudden rush of emotions inside her by slowly placing her hands on his chest. Then she looked into his eyes. “Yes.”

He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. But that wasn’t enough for her. She reached up and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Damien followed her lead and wrapped one arm around her waist, running his fingers through her hair with his other. The feeling stirred her.

He finally pulled away, his breathing heavy, and placed a hand on her cheek. “I don’t want to say good night.”

“Then don’t.”

He halted, a frown across his lips. “What do you mean?”

Her heart beat rapidly inside her chest but she pushed on. “I don’t want to leave either. I want to be with you tonight.”

He pulled back and studied her face. “Are you saying . . . ?”

She nodded. Adrenaline, not unlike a fight, sped through her veins.

His thumb began to stroke her cheek. “Selene, are you sure?”

“Yes. I want this marriage. When we first bonded, it was a marriage of circumstances. Since then, I’ve changed. I want it to be more.” She pressed her hand against his chest. “This is my gift to you. My heart.”

His thumb stopped. His gaze moved along her face, sending another wave of adrenaline and heat through her body. “I told you I don’t need a gift, and I don’t want you to feel obligated—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “This is what I want. And this is what I want to give to you. Will you accept it?”

She could feel his breath across her finger as he stood silently before her. Then he lifted his own hand and removed her finger, leaned forward, and kissed her again.

This time he did not hold back. He kissed her more thoroughly than he ever had before, and she rose to meet his passion. His smell, his touch, his taste filled her.

Then he pulled back once more, his fingers still entwined in her hair. “I said I would never do anything without asking you first. So, one last time, are you sure?”