Sienna kept her forehead against his for a long moment. Her hands still rested on Phei's bare chest, fingers spread lightly over the warmth of him, feeling the steady, living beat beneath his skin. She had said too much already. Done too much already. Kissed him. Touched him. Called him hers, even if only by accident.
Phei did not move first, giving her room and time.
Infuriating. Sienna lifted her head and looked at him.
Her face tried to return to its old coldness. The neutral line of her mouth. The calm violet eyes. The faintly bored air of a girl who had no use for trembling human nonsense. But she was sitting on his lap, her fingers still touching his bare body, her cheeks still flushed, and her lips still soft from the kiss.
The mask was doing heroic work. Sadly, heroism was not the same as success.
"I am not ready," she said.
Phei's expression sharpened at once.
His hands loosened around her waist. "Then we can stop, Sienna."
