They walked over to his magnificent black stallion, Soar, whose sleek coat glistened in the warm sunlight. As Salviana reached out to stroke Soar's mane, Alaric's gloved hand moved to help her mount.
His touch lingered a bit longer than usual as he steadied her, his hands strong but gentle. She noticed the way his hands lingered on her waist, steadying her as she settled onto the horse, and the warmth of his touch sent a thrill through her. She shivered but waited for him to join.
Alaric mounted behind her, his arms encircling her protectively, and she felt the warmth of his chest against her back, his touch reassuring.
His gloved fingers brushed her hand briefly, and she caught his soft smiles, more frequent and tender than she was used to.
There was a comfort, a quiet intimacy in each gesture, that filled her with a new sense of closeness.
