Now it was Kestrel’s turn to look confused. “Should I recognize you?”
The longer the two of them stared at each other, the more worrying his question became. Why did he expect her to recognize him? Was he an infamous criminal in the area, someone who regularly pillaged this town, known and feared by everyone? Was his face plastered onWantedposters?
That’s what Thom’s cautionary tales would have her believing.But this young man didn’tlooklike a criminal to her. It wasn’t just that he was beautiful, there was a heroic strength in the way he carried himself—his shoulders back, his broad chest lifted. And when he had first pulled her from the crowd, behind his gleaming smile, she’d seen the worry in his eyes. He had wanted to make sure she was alright.
Maybe he wasn’t the town villain then, but the town hero.
He washerhero, anyway.
Still, the longer she thought about it, the more it gnawed at her. “Why should I know who you are if we’ve never met?”
He didn’t answer her, but his gaze dropped down to the rags of clothes he donned as if the answer was right there. He shook his head, met her gaze again, and his scrutiny of her deepened, those sky-blue eyes becoming even more suspicious and critical as he assessed every contour of her face. He still didn’t believe her.
Or maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t believe her.
Maybe he was disappointed that she didn’t know him.
Maybe that had been the wrong answer.
The heat of his gaze had her squirming where she sat. “Is that…a problem? That we don’t know each other?”
Gallant Hero’s laugh was airy and light. But as it blew past his lips, the last hint of his smile faded, his voice shaking a little. “No. It might be quite the opposite.”
Kestrel didn’t understand, but when the apple of his throat bobbed, she didn’t need to.
Without his charming smile, it was like she was seeing him for the first time. The mask of confidence had been stripped away, leaving behind something older, something heavy, like he had the weight of the world upon his shoulders but couldn’t bear the thought of anyone seeing it. The longer she gazed upon this new version of him, the more she was drawn to it. No longer was he a flawless manifestation of her wildest dreams,but a genuine person. Someone authentic. Someone vulnerable.
And it made her want him all the more.
Cautiously, Gallant Hero turned his attention over his shoulder, searching back the way they had come. Kestrel leaned forward, trying to peer around him to see what he was looking for, but he twisted back around before she could see anything.
Their faces were closer now, the heat of his breath warm where it caressed her nose and cheeks. She breathed him in—iron and salt and cedar.
He was everything she had imagined.
Everything the books had said he would be, and more.
His gaze fell upon her mouth and her lips parted for him on instinct. Heat pooled low in her belly.
When he leaned forward Kestrel felt the world tipping beneath her until their noses touched. It was the only thing holding her steady, that singular point of contact, the only thing keeping her grounded. His touch. His warmth. His nearness.
Solitude was something Kestrel knew intimately. But the opposite? Having someone so close to her, so intertwined with the very air she was breathing—it was dizzying.
As his hand reached up, cradling the back of her head, Kestrel sucked in a breath.
“One kiss,” he said, almost sounding as if he needed to give himself permission.
Kestrel nodded, but already she could tell she was going to want more than just one. The headiness in his voice alone told her he already did too.
He leaned in. She closed her eyes.
His lips were a soft graze against hers, like the petal of a flower, but smoother. Gentler. Like a whisper. And for a moment, she feared that it wasn’t real. That if she opened hereyes, she would be dreaming this whole thing, and he would be gone.
So she pressed against him harder, hungry not to let that connection break.
It seemed to surprise him at first, every muscle in his body tensing as he inhaled sharply. But then he relaxed into the kiss. His fingers tightened in her hair, and he opened his lips to her. Having read about these moments and how they could unfold, Kestrel opened hers too. For a moment, she feared she wouldn’t know what to do. Something about tongues colliding, but in what maneuvers and to what rhythm? It would be her luck that this would be yet another behavior or experience that she didn’t understand, that she couldn’t replicate, just like at the market.
But to her surprise, the rhythm came easily. As natural as breathing.
