What a word, she thought in amusement. Here I am, alone in the man’s cockpit, my feet practically in his lap, and we’re both trying to sleep. Nevin on the other hand, seemed to be dozing nicely. She sighed, rubbed at her head, and shifted her right foot until it was propped on his right thigh. He stirred in the seat in front of her, nestling his head against the back of his seat, and slid a warm, gloved palm over her foot. Her entire body lit with fire—deep, mystic fire, the kind only a Refarian warrior like Nevin could possibly set within her. Wake up, she thought, wiggling her toes. “Nevin,” she murmured, burning warmth radiating from where his hand covered her foot. “Hmm?” he asked sleepily, and only then did she realize she’d whispered his name aloud. “Uh, nothing.” She felt him tense, his fingers twitched against her instep, and she knew he was going to move away—or move her foot, even worse. She stretched her toes, flexing them, and slid her foot a little closer toward the interior of his thigh.
