Reflection of Fire

Part III Chapter 8

A/N: This is technically the last chapter, but I wrote a Conclusion (if Charlotte Bronte can, so can I), which I will post tomorrow. Thanks for reading!

Ben's hand was warm and she felt heat rising in her cheeks. He didn't say anything and she met his gaze with an unexpected shyness. The expression on his face wasn't exactly a smile, but near to one. He pulled gently and she followed him toward the staircase. What the Princess thought of this would certainly have been intriguing to know, but she didn't look back to find out.

Obviously familiar with the place, he led her downstairs and to a small room off the main hallway, shutting the door behind them. Then he turned to look at her, still holding her hand, and waited.

"Ben, I... I'm glad you did what you did," she offered awkwardly, feeling he waited for her to speak.

He didn't answer, just continued to watch her, searching her face, though what he saw there she couldn't begin to guess.

"Why did you... why did you get rid of your own title?"

"It didn't matter."

It was almost a relief that he spoke and she hoped he would continue, but he did not. "What's next?" she asked finally.

"Well, it's not over. The dissenters will cause trouble, probably try to amend whatever they can before the bill is finalized. I don't expect that will be much of a problem, though. It just takes time to make a change," he explained, voice steady.

She wondered if he referred to himself in the last statement. "But things do change," she offered.

"Yes. If given the chance. And incentive."

His dark eyes were fixed on hers and she found it suddenly difficult to breathe. There was so much she wanted to say to him that she couldn't think where to start. As she tried to sort through her thoughts, he tentatively lifted his free hand and touched her cheek, stilling her.

"Will you run?" he murmured, moving his thumb slowly along her jawline.

"No," she breathed.

"Good." His tone was possibly possessive and greatly relieved. Before she could consider it further, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

She had never been kissed before. She had seen other girls with their suitors and read many stories where a kiss was the happy ending of the tale. But it wasn't polite to stare and few details were included in the stories. No man had ever looked at her that way before, let alone acted on their desires. So she did not have any idea what to expect.

His lips were warm and soft against hers, hesitant at first. Instinctually, she raised her arms to encircle his neck. In response, his arms wrapped around her waist and she found herself pressed flush against his broad chest, blushing as she thought of how much of him she'd seen before. He deepened the kiss and she gasped, tangling her fingers in his hair, uncertain if it was to pull him away or bring him closer.

"Ben," she managed to say when he paused.

"Rey," he growled as he pressed her against the wall, trailing hot kisses down her throat to the collar of her dress.

She was trembling, perhaps in shock, perhaps in anticipation, and she clung to him as though she would fall. He seemed to be everywhere; nothing else mattered but where he would touch her next, what he would do. Heat filled her and she didn't know what to do about it. Then, suddenly, he pulled back.

The wall supported her sufficiently, though she slipped slightly in his sudden absence. "Ben?" she questioned, looking up at him, standing just out of reach, his dark eyes even darker than usual and his hair mussed. She liked seeing him like that, she decided.