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.. Grumbling good-naturedly about hardheaded men, Jasmine opened the laptop, but when he walked away, she smiled. I’m falling hard for you, Mr. Morales, but I think I have chosen well for my husband.After booting the computer, she opened her file, but just sat staring at the screen, her mind in planning mode.Her gaze shifted to him as Morales hung his shirt on a wall peg and set about splitting wood only thirty feet or so away. Soon, a thin sheen of sweat covered his upper body as she sat watching his muscles flex when he slammed something that looked like a singled-bladed axe into the wood, the pile of firewood steadily growing as he did so. So much for his being tired, she thought.While she watched, her thoughts continued. For the future, I think it would be best if we confined our visits of the column area to late at night. If General Whitworth is really refraining from any chance of observing us nude, involved in bodily functions, and so forth, and, indeed, I think he’s a man of. It was rare, after all, for her hunger to be sated before the night even started, and while she doubted that there was a human who could satisfy her, the sex of the previous night made her almost want to feel the tease of near release. She wanted to warm herself up for a return to Devin's chambers some future night. And the ring on her finger assured her that such a night would come.Stretching her wings, she soared over the city and found her usual perch on the highest building. Never before had the city teemed with such possibility. And the dark patch of the cemetery – for so long a forbidden symbol of frustration – now seemed a deep void into which she could pour her passions and her needs without fear of consequence. She was about to step off the edge of the building, to enjoy a long free fall before sailing around the city again, when a strange tingle entered her mind."Calyndi," she heard Devin's voice say. "Come to me. Why not see if we can surpass last night."An odd feeling of.
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