GRAYSON KISSED HER.
Not the careful, controlled kisses they'd shared before in the safety of the estate, but something raw and honest.
His hand came up to cup her face, thumb tracing the line of her jaw with surprising gentleness given the fury still radiating from him. The kiss deepened, and Mailah felt herself melting into him, one hand fisting in his shirt to keep herself steady as the world tilted pleasantly sideways.
When they finally broke apart, she was breathless and dizzy and probably grinning like an idiot.
"So," Lucien called from what he'd apparently decided was a diplomatically strategic distance, "are we done with the romantic interlude? Because as touching as this is, we really should keep moving before someone decides to follow us."
"You're enjoying this way too much," Mailah muttered, but she let Grayson tug her back into motion, their hands still firmly linked.
