Ascension by Felicity Heaton

had failed. No matter how often she had practiced it in mirrors or recited it to herself while she showered, whenever it came time to say it to his face, the words fled her lips and her voice died.
    She lay on the bed, not brave or strong enough to face him and make him believe her.
    He would argue against it and she would crumble.
    She had to find the right moment, the precise point when Taig would actually believe her, and then she would try to tell him. All she could do right now was let him know that he wasn’t alone in the world and that her feelings for him hadn’t changed. If he wanted her, all he had to do was come and claim her, to make her see that he still felt something for her too and the games he was playing were only because he had been hurt.
    Lealandra stood and removed her coat, folding it neatly and placing it on one of the side tables. She pulled her boots off and then began to unlace her corset but stopped. It had to be now. This was the perfect moment for giving him at least a sign that she still loved him.
    Her footsteps were silent on the beech wood floorboards. She crossed the room to the door and hesitated on the threshold.
    Taig lay on his back on the couch, bare chest exposed and one arm under his head and the pillow. His other hand rested on his stomach. The slow rise and fall of it said that he was asleep. Well, at least one of them was relaxed enough to sleep. Clearly, thoughts of her hadn’t been playing on his mind and keeping him awake after all. She crept into the room. The light was low with the black blinds down and she knocked the coffee table. Taig’s empty beer bottle wobbled at the corner nearest him, threatening to fall and spoil the moment, and then stilled again. She edged around the table and eased to her knees at his head.
    Her fingers trembled as she brought her hand up and swept the long strands of black hair from his face, clearing his eyes. He really was beautiful when he wasn’t shooting his mouth off or trying to make her angry. She ran her fingers over his brow, following the line of his dark eyebrows, and then trailed them slowly down over the contours of his cheekbones and jaw.
    He frowned and turned his face towards her before opening his eyes. Their black depths met hers and she smiled.
    Confusion filled his eyes.
    Lealandra leaned towards him, closed her eyes, and brushed her lips against his. It took him a moment to respond and butterflies danced in her stomach and chest when he kept the kiss light. His tongue traced her lips and hers came to meet it, softly tangling with his and luring it into her mouth. He tasted of beer but she didn’t mind. She was sure that she did too. She dropped her hand to his neck and leaned in closer, wanting more, and then reminded herself that this wasn’t supposed to go anywhere, not tonight, and if she kept going, it would do just that.
    After one final brush of her lips over his, she pulled back.
    Taig stared at her, eyes wide and lips parted.
    “That’s how I kiss goodnight,” she whispered and rose to her feet.
    His gaze tracked her across the room. She trembled inside, wondering if her goodnight kiss had been a wise idea and whether Taig would come to her.
    She fell flat on her front on the bed and sighed.
    It had been a stupid idea.
    She touched her lips.
    It had been nice though.
    She focused on Taig and realised that he was doing the same, using his power to sense her.
    The ball was in his court now.

CHAPTER 8
     
    T aig stalked around his apartment, still amazed that he had managed to resist going to Lealandra last night and still cursing himself for it at the same time. She had kissed him, and she had given him those come to bed eyes that she had used on him so many times in the past.
    And he had been sorely tempted.
    But something had stopped him. Some ridiculous sense of chivalry had kept him pinned to his uncomfortable makeshift bed. By the time he had convinced himself that maybe she wanted him to go to her, maybe