Nola’s mind momentarily blanked. By the time the lights flickered on, she and Bane were both panting, his chest resting against her back. Her muscles were lax, her limbs boneless. Any minute, she would collapse, sinking into a coma of satisfaction.

He kissed her temple, then returned to the bench, dragging her with him. As she curled into a ball on his lap, she tried not to worry about his reaction to their lovemaking.

And that was what they’d done, right? Made love.

If he tensed up and went all guilty again...

“I have endless questions for you,” he said, kissing her temple. “I’d like to know you better and eagerly await every detail about your life.”

Truly? She ran her hands up his chest. Soft skin, hard muscles. Not sinking her nails into his skin, holding him in place lest he decide to bolt, required every ounce of her willpower. She was sated and quivering, genuinely content for the first time in...ever. Such a wild, wonderous feeling! Of course, with her luck, it wouldn’t last.

A buzz of foreboding drew her notice, and she nearly yelled in frustration. Not here, not now.

Too bad, so sad.

Thoughts came, and they carried pitchforks and torches. At some point, Bane would recall Nola had the ability to retrieve his wife from the past and grant him the life he’d always dreamed of having. Would resentment flare like a disease? Would he default to contempt?

Why not remind him and get the process started and over with?

“You hate queens,” she said, kicking things off.

“Do I?” With a teasing tone, he replied, “I don’t find you so objectionable right now.”

“Oh la la. I’m not objectionable.” She rolled her eyes, saying, “Stop, before your praise goes to my head.”

He nipped her earlobe. “I see the orgasms failed to improve your mood.”

She lifted her head, shocked to find him completely at ease, with no hint of stress. The teasing light had even migrated to his eyes, brightening his golden irises. “Have you forgotten what I can do? Who I can save?”

“I have everything I desire.”

“But—”

The jerk began to tickle her. Nola laughed hysterically while trying to beg for mercy. But the more she laughed, the more his expression veered into wonder, until she never wanted it to end.

“Tell me your favorite anything, and why,” he said. “Only then will the torment stop.”

Has to end before I pee myself! “Okay, okay.” This playful side of her ultraserious warrior was doing strange, fluttery things to her insides. “My favorite things. Let’s see. Color—gold.”

“Like me.”

“Like jewelry.”

He pouted, and she laughed.