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“We’re here for the baths, not your breeding kink,” said Mordaunt.
“You’re going to forget me?” asked Mordaunt. “I hope so,” said Aurienne. “I’m heartbroken.” “You haven’t a heart,” said Aurienne. “Besides, isn’t forgetting you preferable to continuing to hate you?” “I’d rather you hate me than not think of me at all.”
“He’s more important to me than I would wish him to be,” said Aurienne. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re more important to him than he’d like you to be, too.”
Mordaunt looked at her mouth like he thought of kissing it.
Aurienne rose to her tiptoes and ran silk-clad fingers through Mordaunt’s hair. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t give her time to change her mind. He pulled her in close, put a hand around the back of her neck, tilted her head upwards. Then came the tender apocalypse of his lips on hers.
It hadn’t been love at first sight, but at last sight – gods, at last sight— Far above, the moon hung like a promise.
