Can you believe I have a favorite cave?

She looked at the knife, her throat tight with emotion. No roses or rings with him, but a knife with feathers carved into the handle. A knife that was part of him. She couldn't accept it.

Come thaw my frozen heart, my little arctic kitten.”
Unable to resist, Aria jumped in and picked up the next line. “No chance, my yeti man, I’d rather be frostbitten.”
“Let me be your snowman. Come live in my igloo.”
“I’d rather freeze to death than hibernate with you.

When we get out of this, let’s go somewhere again. Me and you.”

The tension in her chest loosened, relief washing over her. He’d said when. Even in his beaten condition, he believed in whens and not ifs. She never should have doubted his strength.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

His smile was faint and lopsided. “Doesn’t matter . . . I just want to spend time alone with you.”

Aria wanted exactly the same thing. And she ached to see him smile—really smile—so she said, “And this isn’t good enough for you?

I’m going to kill him for this,” she said.

“No. Stay away from him, Aria. Find a way to get us out of here. Use Hess. If he likes to run from problems, let’s give him somewhere to go. Another option. But promise me you’ll stay away from Sable.”

“Perry, no.”

“Aria, yes.” Didn’t she understand? He could endure anything—except losing her.

Her hand holding his for a dozen paces. His, resting on the small of her back for a moment. Touches that had no real purpose but to say I’m here and We are together still.