“You want some time to yourself, too?” Maren asked Saul, but he shook his head. “Good. I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Saul had never been much of a talker, and while Maren was usually more than happy to carry the conversation for both of them, she felt drained. There was so much she wanted to say and do, but all of her time was gone. She watched the clock count down her minutes and tried to keep her hands from shaking. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the screens every few seconds. Suriya was sitting in one of the chairs in the communication room, her legs pulled up under her chin as she waited for her chance to shut off the lockdown and open every door in the station.

“I’m sorry,” Saul said.

Maren twisted around to frown at him. “What for?”

“For not being able to keep you safe.” Saul’s eyes were fixed on the screens, but Maren didn’t think he saw them. “That’s the only thing I regret.”

“Not your fault,” Maren said thickly.

“You deserve better than this.”

Maren was shocked to see the emotion etched across Saul’s face. He was always so stable, so reliable. His brow creased above his soulful grey eyes as he refused to look at Maren, and the sight of his vulnerability filled her with desperate recklessness. She checked the countdown. Fifty-nine minutes.

“Would you let me tick something else off my wish list?” she asked.

Saul finally met her eyes, raising his brows in a silent question. Maren leaned closer and kissed him.

Saul froze underneath her. Maren, embarrassment rising through her in a hot rush, made to pull back, but then Saul answered the kiss before she could move away. His lips parted under hers, tasting her, as his weathered hand came up to caress the side of her face and tangle in her hair. Electricity ran through her; every hair on her body rose as her world shrunk to the kind, quiet man who was pouring a lifetime of passion into that one kiss. She pressed her hand to his chest and felt his heartbeat as his lips moved with hers, firm yet pliant, exploring and questioning while setting her body on fire.

When she drew back, she was breathless and flushed. Saul’s hand lingered just below her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheek, his eyes filled with the fire that Maren found irresistible.

“Sorry,” she whispered, trying to smother a smile.

“Don’t be.” His voice was deep and hungry. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

His hand gently nudged the back of her neck in a soft request that Maren had no desire to deny, and she returned to him for another kiss as Saul’s other hand came up to caress her back.

A crackle of sound came from the speakers, and they pulled apart again, shocked out of their moment of intimacy.

“This is Captain Matthews on board Gypsy Flight,” the voice said, tinny but loud enough to hear. “We’re evacuating to Central and collecting as many passengers from stations in our path as possible. Do you need rescue or assistance?”