“I have nerve. Push the barb through; the rest is easy.”
“I feel a brute.”
“Don’t be sentimental. I would rather you did it than any other man in the world.”
The contradiction passed unheeded, for their eyes were still at gaze into the opposing depths. They could hear each other breathing. Gabriel’s fingers touched the girl’s arm. She shivered and laughed a little, sucking in her breath betwixt her lips.
He steadied his hands against her arm. It was soon ended. A twist, a quiver, a passionate fumbling of fingers, and the barb of steel was tossed into the river.
“I have hurt you.”
Her eyes had grown dark with large and lustrous pupils; the sunlight dusted amber in her hair.
“No.”
“Not a little?”
“Perhaps—a little.”