The Geographer's Map to Romance (Love's Academic #2)

by India Holton

Ten minutes after that, they were pronounced man and wife. Gabriel lowered his head to kiss her. “Er, we don’t do that bit in the Church of Britain,” the vicar interjected—but he could have broken into a flamboyant aria and Elodie wouldn’t have noticed. Gabriel mustn’t have noticed either, for he went ahead and pressed his lips gently against hers.

He’d never habituated to her. (Although, to be fair, that was like trying to habituate to a tornado.)

This was Oxford, after all, where the university’s presence meant that at any moment a deadly enchanted bird, possessed artifact, or over-caffeinated student might escape and go on a rampage.

It also led to marrying a woman who clambered over hedges to avoid being seen when you walked past.

Were he ever bothered to, Gabriel could have supplied them with a plethora of more suitable adjectives to describe her. Exasperating. Maddening. Mysti-bloody-fying. And brilliant, damn it.

In other words, do not make me like you, or I will remember that I love you, and that’s a worse disaster for me than any storm could create.

No. He did not want to kiss his wife. He wanted only to complete this assignment without further disaster. Thus he listened soberly as Elodie talked about respect, and staying on their own side of the bed, and bloody hell he loved her eyelashes. Loved them so much that he’d spent hours in the library researching human cilium and other ocular features (which was a scientist’s equivalent of mooning over poetry).

“I’m flattered you think what I say is valuable.” “I don’t think about you at all.” “Whereas I think about you constantly.”

“If you have to change yourself to get something, then it’s not the right thing for you,” Gabriel said tetchily, and pulled her back into his embrace. “Never apologize for who you are.”

“Diversity is as important in humankind as it is in nature. We each have something unique to offer our community.

He could not seem to stop touching her, taking care of her in this small way. He would do more—he would do anything she asked of him. He was at her service forever. And he wished with all his heart that she’d cling to him once more, for he knew now he was physically incomplete without her.

Why would you panic now?” “Because I’m going to kiss you.” “Oh.” Panic immediately swept through her too. “It is no doubt a consequence of the magic, sensitizing my nerves,” he said. “Or possibly the radiant effervescence of your spirit, which has fascinated me for so long now that my resistance to it has weakened.”

“I’m compelled, Elodie. I’m driven. My every thought circles back to you. My every breath wants to kiss you. I know you despise me, and I will never speak these words again, so don’t be afraid. But I l-l—” He winced. “Like your hair. And the way you draw topographical maps. And, well, you.”

“I’ve loved you from the very start, Gabriel Tarrant. The first time I saw you, I wanted you so much I tripped over my own feet and made a mess of everything.”

“Well, you did, but it was like a fresh breeze. You brought me wild joy in a life that had always been about safety, and excellent school marks, and mapping my every step exactly. Ellie, my sunshine, I loved you that first day when you tripped right into my heart, and I’ve loved you every moment since.”

“It’s always been you for me. No one else, ever. You’re in every dawn I watch rising over cities and fields. You’re in everything I do and dream. You are the heart of the world for me.”