We had just paid the check when Dimitri's cell phone rang. "Hello?" he answered. And like that, his face transformed. That fierceness I so associated with him softened, and he practically glowed. "No, no. It's always a good time for you to call, Roza." Whatever the response on the other end was, it made him smile.
Richelle MeadOur gazes locked, so much passing between us. In those moments, I wasn't in a tent with him, on the run from those who regarded us as villains. There was no murderer to catch, no Strigoi trauma to overcome. There was just him and me and the feelings that had burned between us for so long.
Richelle MeadWhatโs going on?โ he demanded. โThe usual, old man,โ I replied cheerily. โDanger, insane plans... you know, the stuff that runs in our family.
Richelle MeadIs Adrian here?โ โWho?โ โAdrian. Tall. Brown hair. Green eyes.โ She frowned. โDo you mean Jet?โ โI โฆ Iโm not sure. Does he smoke like a chimney?โ The girl nodded sagely. โYup. You must mean Jet.
Richelle MeadAdrian suddenly glanced up at me. Our gazes locked, and I felt like he could read my mind. How often did he think about that kiss? And if he really was crazy about me, did he imagine more than just kissing? Did he fantasize about me? What kinds of things did he think about? His lips on my neck? His hand on my leg? And was that leg bare . . . ?
Richelle Mead