ETAN

He hadn't considered the sheer effort it would require to stifle his desire to touch her at every moment. He was accustomed to the tight leash at the Castle, and under eyes that would condemn them. He'd looked forward to being here, alone, and able to be more natural in their interactions.

He hadn't anticipated that the simple brush of her fingers on his arm, or the trace of her eyes across his face would fan the flames he held inside.

Every moment close to her was a joy, and a journey, and torture.

Before long they were both seated on the ground, backs to a fallen log, their fingers entwined. The men talked quietly on the other side of the fire, but they stayed there close, and near silent, searching eyes, touching arms and hands, holding breaths.

Then they were parted, far too early. Borsche stood and told Etan they should go to their tent—they'd stopped to set up camp half a mile away—and they would return at first light.

Ayleth looked at him with pleading eyes and he almost refused. But… he knew. He couldn't stay next to her in the quiet dark. They would give in. He had no doubt.

"Until morning, my love," he whispered, pulling her hand up to brush her knuckles with his lips.

Her chest rose and fell quickly. "First light," she said—an instruction, not a question.

He smiled and nodded. "The very first hint of the sun," he said. "I will wake you if you're aren't already—"

"Very well, very well. We understand. No moment wasted and all that. Come, Etan, I grow older as we speak."

Etan grimaced, but Ayleth smiled at Borsche. They hugged briefly, then he trudged away with his man, wishing he could do anything but turn his back on her.

*****

True to his word, he returned at first light, having saddled his stallion while it was still dark.

Impossibly, he had slept, though he'd woken far before dawn, his body already aching to be close to her. He'd tossed and turned, trying to find comfort, to take his mind off of her warm skin and pink cheeks, until Borsche—who he'd thought asleep—groaned and turned over in his sleeping roll.

"I will praise the Father of Lights the day you marry her, Etan," he growled. "But I think poor Falek will age ten years before that day. Do the poor man a favor and be slightly less obvious with your yearning today?"

Etan snorted. "I will try." He could feel her, awake and not far away, and it was as if his body pulled at him .

Borsche grumbled something about tents inside tents, but then, "Go to her. I'm certain she isn't sleeping either. I have to go to the village today. Falek has instructions for you—a ravine nearby. You can both spend time alone, and he can watch the opening to be certain you aren't disturbed. Just make sure you don't give the poor man a heart attack. Show some restraint, please—"

But Etan was already scrambling out of his bedroll and into his leathers.

He'd gotten out of the tent and saddled his horse in the dark, his feet practically dancing.

*****

AYLETH

Once she woke, an hour before dawn, she hadn't been able to sleep again. Her entire body felt as if it hummed with anticipation. She'd sat on the log, watching Falek prepare a breakfast for them, her leg jiggling in her leathers, and only half because of the cold.

She could feel him before she could hear his horse, but as soon as the animal broke into view from trees nearby, she was on her feet and trotting to meet him.

He was off the animal and wrapping her in his arms before Falek could even straighten from the fire.

When they broke apart—barely—his eyes caught hers and she thought he would kiss her, but Falek spoke up from behind her. "There's warm chocolate, and eggs over here. Both of you need to eat, even if you don't feel like it. And we'll discuss the… rules for today."

Ayleth grinned and Etan rubbed her arms. "Good morning," he whispered.

"Good morning," she returned. He did drop his lips to hers then, but only a brief touch, a chaste greeting.

But even that made her belly begin to burn.

This was going to be a very interesting day.

*****

They were both mounted, their horses so close that their knees brushed, but still Falek wouldn't let her turn her horse's head away so they could leave. And Etan was winding tighter every minute Falek kept them there.

"Due east," he growled. That rise you can see is actually the cliffside—the trees make it look like a hill. At the base of that is a clearing with a pond and shade trees. I will remain outside the opening to ensure you aren't disturbed. But… please… still take care." He caught eyes with Ayleth, who nodded, while Etan glared.

"There is nothing more important to me than her safety," he said through his teeth.

He was still a little tense from the Adept's interference.

"Then you won't mind taking extra precautions to soothe my fear. I am putting her in your hands, Etan. Do not let me regret it."

The two stared at each other, twin jaws hard and hands clenched. Until Ayleth rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm very flattered and pleased that we have sorted that out," she said dryly.

Etan blinked and turned to her, and her chest swelled with love for him. This close, he felt it and his eyes softened.

Falek grunted. "I will give you until sundown. But if you hear the Peewit whistle, you come out immediately, watching for danger. The same ravine that keeps you hidden will trap you if the wrong people discover where we are."

Etan nodded once and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Falek. I mean it. You have… I will not forget this."

Falek's lips thinned. "Neither will I," he said, a warning in his voice.

Ayleth groaned and turned her horse's head, nudging it's sides so Falek was forced to stand aside or be trampled.

"We'll see you this evening, Falek."

"Be safe, Ayleth," he replied. She shot him a smile over her shoulder, then turned, head high, letting Etan turn his horse and nudge it into a short trot to catch up to her.

She wondered if he could feel her excitement about getting him alone as much as she could feel his.