Page 79 of The Gathering
She held her mouth shut for two seconds before giving in to her addiction for honesty. “To hear you speak it.”
He tilted his head a little, looking suspicious.
She sighed and gave up the full truth. “I want to hear how you sound.”Half a truth is half a lie.“I like how the languagesounds,” she added, fighting with the words. “When you speak it,” she finished.
He looked curiously amused. “Why was that so hard to say for you?”
She looked away and had to make herself find the answer. Why was she suddenly hiding from him? She didn’t want to hide from him. “I think because the reasons are…” she chickened out and lowered her gaze.
“I have a nosy dictator in my head too, petite Suhr.”
Little Sister. She didn’t like that name. But she did love the way it sounded when he said it. “Because maybe I like it… for silly reasons.”
“Oh, teet pah-tron, tay zah-preh tah-tee-ray doo gro troob.” Whatever he said felt like a warning. While his smile tugged with something close to mischief. He was having fun with her and she liked that. She liked having fun with him too. But this fun felt like it was turning into something else. Something beyond fun. Something scary, but she wasn’t scared. She felt like she was on a thrilling ride. Mercy, she was sweating under her clothes.
He chuckled, lowering his head. “What on earth is going on in that pretty head of yours, teet suhr?”
“I’m being patient like you said!” she gasped. “Surely you will translate the language I don’t speak, I don’t need to pounce on you about it. Do I?”
His big laugh exploded in her body and blood. The wind whipped at her hair, and she was suddenly hyper-aware of how much of it had escaped her careful hairdo. Great. She must look like a comedic sight.
“I said you were about to get yourself into big trouble.”
Her spine straightened as she struggled to remember context. “Why? What kind of trouble? You took so long, now I’ve lost the thread.” She smoothed her hair with both hands.
“You were about to tell me your silly reason for wanting me to speak to you in French.”
She connected the thoughts. “And that would get me in big trouble?”
“Yes,” he assured, factually.
She stared at him, her excitement at what he could be saying making her shiver uncontrollably. “I’m not good at reading between certain lines. So I don’t see the trouble part.”
His eyes moved to her hair and her cheeks burned. “Why don’t you wear it down in the winter? It is your natural covering,” he reasoned.
The question was unexpected. “It’s a mess while bound, imagine if it were loose!”
He stood and came toward her, removing his coat.
Her pulse tried to run out of her body as she watched him. “What are you doing?”
He put his coat around her. “Being bossy, I guess.” He stayed behind her and she angled her head. “Now what are you doing?”
“Setting your natural covering free.”
“What!?”
“Please?”
She froze at the soft request then went to sputtering. “What for? I don’t ever wear my hair down.”
“Andwhyon earth not?” he marvel-fussed. “Our Seer says it’s a woman’s glory, why do you hide it.”
“Because it’s a glorious… mess,” she assured, her heart beating frantically in her chest as the smell of his cologne or soap permanently marked her.
“Wow, it’s long.”
His soft praise sent more heat through her.
