Half Truths

Knowing

Clary stared at her reflection in the long, oval mirror. Her red locks had been swept up and clipped at the back of her head. Long tendrils hung down, just brushing the tops of her shoulders and creating a frame of her face. She glanced from side to side, unsure if this was the right look or not. Jace preferred her hair down. He always took out her clips and ponytail holders when she wore it up. But Isabelle insisted that, with this particular dress, keeping her hair up would accentuate her shoulders and the deep, open back of the gown. As she stared, Clary had to admit Isabelle had a point.

A trio of tiny, sparkling spaghetti straps curved gently over her pale shoulders. The sheer layer of black and its lines of glittery beads hugged her figure perfectly, while the inner silk slip lay cool and soft against her skin. Clary slid her hand down the dip of her side and closed her eyes. Her mind drifted immediately to when Jace had done the same thing that morning.

She'd awoken curled into his chest, the sheets a tangled mess at their feet. His breath rose and fell against her as his fingers traced up and down the curve of her bare hip. She snuggled in closer and he bent to brush his lips on the top of her head. If there was any place on earth where she could spend the rest of her life, this was it. There, in his arms, tucked away from everyone and everything else. Clary lifted her chin and kissed the middle of his chest, not stopping until she'd traced a line up his neck.

Jace shifted next to her and gently pushed her onto her back. The warm softness of his skin sparked against hers. Her hands glided up his forearms and rested only once they moved over the arc of his shoulders. Their eyes met and Clary could see that his were not dull and tortured as they had been the night before. Now they shone, twinkled even, like he'd purged himself of everything that had been eating him up inside.

She wanted to ask him again what had happened, why he'd broken down and cried in her arms. But the look he gave her now suggested he had other ideas. He bent and touched his lips to her jaw, just under her ear, and whispered, "Good morning, baby."

Clary closed her eyes and smiled, letting the vibrations of his voice wash over her. "Good morning." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His mouth continued to work, peppering kisses over her flesh. "Jace . . .?"

Hmm?" he hummed into her neck.

As much as she didn't want him to stop, she tucked her hands around his face and moved him to look at her. "Are you okay?"

His eyes moved from one of hers to the other, not a single thing hidden from her today. "Yes. I'm fine."

"But, last night . . ." She paused, unsure of how to go on.

Jace lifted a hand and trailed his fingers along her cheek. His gaze flitted over her face. "Last night I wasn't."

Clary sighed and reached out to move a lock of hair from his eyes. It was getting long. He needed it cut soon. "Are we going to talk about it?"

He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded slowly before answering. "Yes. We'll talk about it."

Clary felt her chest warm and heart race. Was he finally going to open up about what had been bothering him?

Jace leaned in and touched his lips to hers, softly, chastely, before pulling back just a little. "But not right now." He brushed her hair out of her face. "Right now, I just want to look at you." And he did, his eyes moving over her like a precious piece of artwork. "And then, I want to touch you." His fingers trailed over her cheekbones, down her neck and between her breasts, tracing the curve of her waist and dancing over the side of her hip. Clary shivered. "And I want to kiss you." He followed the same line as his fingers with his lips and then worked his way back up. Clary could hardly breathe by the time his face hovered over hers once more. His own breath shook against her skin. "And then, I just . . . want you." He shifted and tucked his fingers under the bend of her knee, pulling it up and draping it over his hip as he moved on top of her. "Later," he whispered. "We can talk later."