“I know it’s not the most to go on, but—”
“No, it’s not,” he says. “But it’s a place to start. Better than I had before.”
He’s halfway to storming out of the room—to call Gennady or his lieutenants or something, I’m sure—when he pauses and whirls back around to face me.
“Thank you, Arya,” he says awkwardly.
I can’t help laughing. “You’re not very good at that,” I tease.
He pauses for a moment. Then, without changing his expression, he takes one huge step to close the distance between us. He bends down, palms the back of my head in one huge hand, and presses me with a fierce kiss.
His tongue parts my lips. Greedy. Hot. Aggressive.
And just when I reach up to touch his hair, he pulls away.
“I’m better with my hands than my words,” he murmurs.
I laugh again, although I’m suddenly sev
