"I agree that there's nothing wrong with being a barista, but it's not something I would've expected of a noblewoman, Esmera. Not when psychics whispered of her great destiny before she was even born."

Esmera may not have believed in the destiny Tauram spoke of if she hadn't heard about it from so many others, if his dark eyes hadn't caught hers and held them there, firm with certainty.

He terrified her, but she couldn't look away. He was capable of painting mountain ranges and destroying usurpers, and he could do both with the same beautiful hands.

Esmera should run. She should want to run, but all she wanted was to be close to him because she knew that no matter how fearsome his wrath, it would never touch her.

How she knew, she wasn't sure. She only knew that her fingers were weaving through Tauram's because nothing else would anchor him to himself, would fix him to the present when he wanted to hunt down the past. "Well, you've been taking better care of me since I arrived. You gave me a home. And food. We can't forget the food."

Tauram smiled wryly at that, but his eyes continued to bore into hers, as unwavering as a mountain was in an avalanche's path. "Esmera—"

"You took me to claim Jammas even though you knew that being caught in Parnakshi would mean your execution." Esmera interrupted Tauram because she refused to let him believe he had done nothing for her.

She had met him less than a week ago, and he had been kinder to her than anyone she knew. He had done more for her than the man she had been married to for two years.

"You apologised to me after you and Belaren teased me for being a barista." Esmera cast her eyes downwards, to the gleaming silver threads crisscrossing along the hem of her kurta. "Nobody has ever apologised to me before."

Certainly never for merely insulting her, and not even for striking her.

"Oh, Esmera." Tauram drew her to him, and, as if forgetting his embargo on her touch, he pressed his lips to her hair.

Tears still prickled at her eyes. She squeezed them closed as she rested against Tauram's chest, letting him steady her as he had been doing since the day he offered her his coat in the art museum he owned. "You annoy me, but you make me forget the things that terrify me, so I guess I can't be too hard on you for that."

Tauram laughed softly against her. Esmera was intoxicated by the smell of him, by the soft rhythm of his breaths and the captivating dance of his hastening heart as it beat in her ear.

Every single thing about Tauram Morghis intoxicated her. He made her dizzy in the best way, and for the first time, she understood why Stephan could never lay off his damn alcohol.

Esmera remained as she was, savouring the moment of closeness before Tauram inevitably came to his senses and withdrew from her as he always did. "You always have your hand on my shoulder, guiding me so I never feel lost. You pull me away from precipices when I'm about to hurt myself. You make me forget my pain sometimes, if only for a little while. You make me strong enough to face it again when I'm ready."

With a gentle hand, Tauram tilted Esmera's face up to his. His eyes rested on her lips while he absently stroked her chin, and now her heart was the one racing.

"And what else, my lady?"

Her eyes fluttered closed as she released a breath and succumbed to his touch. "I love the way you don't let anything get you down for long, no matter how much of a tragedy or setback it is. I love how you can laugh at yourself as much as you laugh at others. Especially me."

Tauram chuckled softly at that, and Esmera heard it like it was a spring breeze giggling through a meadow.

"I love that you're equal parts gentle and fierce, an artistic king."

Esmera had barely finished her sentence before Tauram was pulling her to him. She started when their mouths met, but a moment after the initial surprise, she leaned into him, into his kiss.

Esmera's fingers felt their way up Tauram's neck and into his hair. Like two parts of the same being, she pressed herself against him while his arms tightened around her waist, holding her as close to him as he could.

But Esmera wanted to be even closer. The heat pounding through her body demanded it, and it would not rest until then.

Her hands darted for the top button of his shirt where it rested so provocatively against his throat, but he caught them with his.

"I lied to you, Esmera," Tauram murmured against her mouth.

Such unwelcome words had never brushed against her lips so seductively.

Esmera tried to ignore the way her stomach dropped, but she couldn't. She couldn't ignore Tauram's confession as if it hadn't been uttered, couldn't continue what they had started without knowing what he had meant.

She pulled away, opening her eyes to meet Tauram's, which she was sure were filled with the same feverish desperation as hers. "About what?" she asked, even as she feared the answer, feared that it would douse out the heat of the moment.

"About what I said earlier. About wanting space from you. I don't know what I was thinking." Breathless, Tauram brought Esmera's hands to his lips, his dark eyelashes resting against his cheekbones as he closed his eyes. "I don't want space," he whispered against her knuckles. "I want...whatever the opposite of that is."

Esmera lunged for him then. Where her knuckles rested between their faces, they struck her in her chin. She barely felt the pain in the grasp of her frenzied need to kiss Tauram, in the satisfaction of the moment when their mouths met. "I want that too. To be close." She breathed her confession into his mouth.

"That's one of the things I love about you." Tauram smiled against Esmera, winding one of her stray curls around his finger. "You're fearless, and you're bold about yourself and what you want."

Esmera frowned at Tauram's mesmerising mouth. She would never grow tired of staring at it no matter how many times she did so. "I am?"

"You are." Tauram brushed his lips against hers, all the while leading her by her hips with steady, solid hands. She followed him as though she was a thirsty creature following the sound of a trickling spring until she straddled him.

Tauram gazed at her for a moment, and she stared back, at the fairy lights like a galaxy in his eyes. She touched her thumb to his mouth. Just this morning she had thought she'd never get this close to him again, yet here they were, holding each other beneath the stars. She had to wonder whether Tauram had the same thing in mind that she did.

He must've because he took hold of the hem of Esmera's kurta. He eased it up her torso, and, as if hypnotised by his eyes that held hers, she raised her arms so he could pull the garment off entirely.

It was the most skin she had ever shown him. For a moment, she felt self-conscious, but then he lowered his mouth to her neck, tracing along her skin while he murmured as she had imagined him doing so many times before. "You're strong because you don't let your past hurts stop you from living in the present."

Esmera wanted to tell Tauram that she did, that she had done that so many times since arriving in Milatanur without meaning to, that she wasn't the person he thought she was, but her selfish desires overruled her well-meaning honesty.

The truth was, she wanted Tauram to keep touching her, so she simply moaned as he trailed his lips to the edge of her shoulder and retreated, his eyes beholding her in a soft, strange light that seemed somehow familiar too.

"I love that you call me out when I say stupid things. Nobody except for Belaren does that." Tauram hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Esmera's pants. His fingers burned against her skin, and she could think of nothing other than them, than him. "I guess they're all afraid that I'll execute them because I'm a prince or something. Or at least I used to be."

Esmera straightened her one leg and then the other so he could slide her pants off.

"I kind of love the stupid things you say, Your Majesty," Esmera said, breathless as Tauram drew her to him once again, his fingers dancing their way down the backs of her thighs.

"I'm not a king, Esmera." Tauram's arms closed around her, holding her to his chest.

She smiled to herself at the sound of his heartbeat racing through her ears. Even so, she pulled away, brushing away the stubborn strand of his hair that kept falling over his eyes. "But tomorrow, you will be."

"Oh, Esmera..." His voice was somehow between a moan and a murmur. He brushed his fingers up her spine until they found her bra's clasp. Anticipation heightened the sensation of his nails against her skin, sharpened her awareness of the decreasing layers of fabric between her skin and his. "I love how hopeful you are." Tauram unclipped her bra, and it was like she could breathe again.

But not for long because his eyes settled on her, challenging her and begging her to bare herself to him. How could she do anything else?

Esmera slid her bra straps down her shoulders before dropping it on the floor. Outside, an icy gust of mountain air struck the window and slipped through the tiny spaces between the windowpanes. Esmera shivered as goosebumps blossomed all over her body. Then Tauram's hands were there, their warmth dissolving the cold as they ran over Esmera's arms and back, then down her stomach to the waistband of her underwear.

One item of clothing left to go, and it was that one that would betray Esmera's desperate desire.

Tauram pressed his finger between her legs. At that familiar, mischievous, teasing sparkle in his eyes, Esmera knew he must feel the undeniable dampness that had settled there as she did. "I love how loving and gentle and kind you are." He pulled her mouth to his with his free hand then slid her underwear down her thighs, his eyes holding hers.

Gods, Esmera couldn't breathe. Her underwear caught on her foot. She stifled a giggle at Tauram's frustration as he yanked it off and flung it aside.

"Much better," he said, his approval as bare as Esmera was on his lap.

She had nowhere to run and nothing to hide herself from him. And she didn't want to, because he gazed at her as if she was the first peek of the spring sun that had arrived to thaw the winter snow, and she wanted to live in that moment forever.

Then it shifted. Tauram turned them so the wall was against Esmera's back and the stars were at his. Even so, it was only him Esmera saw, only him who could fill her need, fill that well of love, of care, of desire, that had been empty for too long.

Tauram laid Esmera down beneath him while he crouched over her, running his hands over her shoulders, down her waist and past her hips as if he was memorising her bare form to preserve it on a canvas someday. Maybe that was exactly what he was doing.

"Esmera Finnaaz, you are exquisite." He brought his mouth to hers, his kisses hungrier than any she had ever felt even while his hands were gentler.

Esmera wove her fingers through his hair before breaking the embrace of their mouths. "I don't know whether to believe you."

"Oh?" Tauram raised his eyebrows, bold enough to dare to play innocent. "And why is that?"

Esmera held him close to her, touching her lips to his neck before speaking, her voice low. "Because you've been giving me all these pretty praises, but you're still not naked."

"Touché."

Esmera felt Tauram grin against her before he sat up. He remained on his knees between her thighs, his hands going to his shirt buttons, but Esmera's fingers snuck in ahead of his.

They lost all their nimbleness as they undid the buttons to the point that Esmera wondered if she should've left this to Tauram instead, but then she reached the last one, and his shirt fell open.

She ran her hands over those shoulders she had been daydreaming about as she slipped the white cotton shirt off them. She lowered her trembling hands to his pants next. She could barely focus on slipping them off because Tauram's mouth found her neck and settled there, distracting her with delightful little kisses.

She won out in the end. Only when his underpants had joined hers on the floor and his body was as bare as hers did he lean down and capture her lips with his.

It felt like a homecoming, like a return to a safe, familiar place after a long, treacherous journey to unknown lands. Those were Tauram's hands tightening on her thighs, his chest pressed against her breasts, his mouth against hers, but this kiss was different from any others they had shared because she could feel every inch of his skin against hers, and it was one step short of ecstasy.

"What do you want from me tonight, Esmera Finnaaz?" Tauram murmured against her mouth.

She knew what he wanted. She could feel it hardening between her thighs as it sought out the same desire she did. It made her dizzy with anticipation.

Esmera had been shoved into walls so hard she had bruises the next morning. She had dropped on beds so roughly that her body ached for days afterwards. Today, she just wanted love not to hurt.

Her hand cupped Tauram's face as softly as she yearned for him to hold her. "I want you to love me gently. Please."

Sadness came into Tauram's eyes, but he blinked it away. "You need only ask once, my Esmera." He took hold of her hips with firm, demanding hands.

Esmera couldn't see anything beyond him, beyond the halo the fairy lights created around his perfect form. She couldn't think of anything except her clenching, dripping, desperate need.

And when Tauram pulled her to him, she could finally give in to it.