Pushing her trencher aside, she rose to her feet, never looking away from him. The silence was broken only by the sounds of the fire and the rustle of her dress. She came and leaned over him in his chair, hands cupping his face in the firelight. Softly, she traced the curve of his lower lip with a thumb.
Isaac’s breath hitched, his eyes widening just a little as they followed her movements with an unwavering gaze, head tilting slightly to the side as she walked across the room. Angling his neck back, he pushed his face into her hands and smiled tenderly, parting his lips to press another kiss to the tip of her thumb.
Her breath rasped in her throat as she looked at him. “Promise me nothing has changed,” she whispered. Slowly, she bent just enough to kiss him, seeking the passion from their few days together. She wanted the man she remembered from their first time together, who pressed her into a wall and carried her to the bed and undressed her like a precious gift.