““Patience looked at Vane and saw him dismount- by bringing his leg over the saddlebow and sliding to the ground, landing on his feet. She blinked, and he was by her side. His hands closed about her waist. She almost gasped when he lifted her from the saddle as if she weighed no more than a child. He didn't swing her down, but slowly lowered her to earth, setting her on her feet beside the mare. Less than a foot from him. He held her between his hands; she felt the long fingers flex about her, fingertips on either side of her spine, thumbs against her sensitive midriff. She felt... captured. Vulnerable. His face was a hard mask, his expression intent. Her eyes locked on his, Patience felt the cobbles beneath her feet, but her world continued to spin. It was he- the source of those peculiar sensations. She'd thought it must be, but she'd never felt such sensations before- and those streaking through her now were far stronger than those she'd felt earlier. It was his touch that did it- the touch of his eyes, the touch of his hands. He didn't even need to contact bare skin to make every square inch she possessed react.””
