Espionage is not exactly something she is used to. No, she is used to busting into places and destroying things with the loudest explosions possible. But her orders were given and she put on the gray and black gown as she had been instructed to do. She supposed the dress was pretty enough, and in fact the gray seemed to glitter silver in certain light. She knows her etiquette, however, and is pleased it is finally being used.
Alcohol is another story, however. The ‘Troopers had a delicate and intricate bartering system in place, used to keep things under the radar of superiors, and booze are among the highest goods. She’s had some before, but never so freely like this, and she soon finds herself following her Lord.
Other than his blond persona, she has never seen him outside his usual robes. She hadn’t realized just how built he was until that moment. How wide his shoulders are. And just how lovely his hair is; her fingers twitch, wanting to dig their way through those long locks but she quells the urge.
Yet as she joins him on the balcony, the words slip out before she can stop them. Ah, what the hell. Neither of them were themselves tonight anyway.
“Kissing is not a joking matter, my Lord.” Those dark eyes dip low on his face, find his lips, and linger there. They’re at the railing, and she slides closer. They’ve touched, of course, but other than that first encounter in his chambers, those touches had been impersonal. Training.
She reaches up only to trail her fingers down his arm. From his lips, her gaze travels back to his eyes, holds them. “Unless you are frightened, of course.”
