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“She is the most breathtaking woman in this room, my dearest,” his hushed, breath is hot on her ear and reeking of wine. Complementary drinks to the social gathering she’s brought him along with ( yet again ). He’s lost an article or two of his attire since they’ve arrived. The strings of modesty undone and exposing a generous amount of flesh. Kept hair now in strands that hung in his face. Nothing of witch took from the Witcher’s charm. Adhémar snaked his arms around her waist as lips press a brief kiss to her neck. Then another. Little care of the eyes that turned on them. “How VERY lucky am I to have given my heart to her.”