'Yes,' said Laurent softly, 'We have achieved that.' Pulling his hand from Damen's cheek, he touched his shoulder instead, following the line of skin that led to elbow, from forearm to wrist, fingers just skimming Damen's own where they touched his cheek. He did feel looser, but wine was not the reason for these gentle caresses, he thought. It was Damen's own inexorable pull, as impossible to resist now as in Ravenel.

He curled his hand around the one atop his thigh, simply holding. He said, 'I would like that, if I may court you in turn.'