"The poison… It must be the poison. It affected your hearing," Daphne spluttered, trying to pull her hand away from his. "Go back to bed. I'll check if Jonah has prepared your medication."
Atticus beamed. He knew the truth; there was no poison at all. He wanted to pat himself on the back; his plan was a resounding success!
Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Leaving so soon? I thought we would finally be able to spend time together. Alone. Away from prying eyes."
"You― You're such an infuriating man," Daphne complained. Yet, she made no move to pull her hand out of his. It sat there, connected to his own, palm to palm, skin to skin. Whatever warmth she felt was shared with him, and him with her.
"I'm your infuriating man," Atticus corrected her. His expression then turned serious. "I meant what I said just now, Daphne."
