She sat beside him on the bed, speaking softly and brushing out his
hair. It did not matter what she said. Her voice was like music, and
her nearness and touch a therapy no money could buy. And like a sleeper
woken by a lover's kiss, he began to respond. His body was still
very weak, but Kalus was a creature whose heart held the key to all
survival.
And he began to remember that he was, in fact, a survivor. The fiery
vigor of his soul spoke words of endurance and starting again. In the
middle of a sentence he reached over and kissed her with his lips, teeth
and tongue, and half playfully, half longingly, bit her cheek.
As he drew back, knowing he had not the strength, he was struck by the
look she gave him, her face so close. And he was jarred to his very
bones by the realization. . .that she wanted him. WANTED him.
All his life, the best he had hoped for was a companion who would
tolerate him, and be grateful for his strength and affection. But in
Sylviana's eyes there was a longing as deep and real as his. Perhaps
she even loved. . .HIM. In his current state it was almost too much,
and he became afraid. Again, through the wild hopes she inspired in
him, he felt the fear of losing her, or of being killed himself. His
face could not hide the intensity of what he was feeling.
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