The Inquisitor was writing, sheets of paper scattered across her desk, and a slightly dreamy smile on her face, when she was distracted by a presence behind her. “I thought I’d come to distract you for a change,” Cullen said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “ I thought you usually left letters to Josephine?”
“Not this one,” the Inquisitor replied, the smile flaring brightly as she turned her head to look at him. “This one is personal.” She paused for effect. “You really should reply to your sister more often. She’s absolutely dying for want of detail.”
“My sister?” He straightened sharply, taking in the volume of writing in front of him. “Maker’s breath! What kind of detail are we talking about here? You’ve written pages!”
The Inquisitor laughed, enjoying her ability to catch him off guard. “Only the exciting ones.”
His eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t… you would.” He reached for the missive, but the Inquisitor slid nimbly out of her chair, papers in hand.
“It’s very rude to read other people’s letters” she teased, attempting to dart around him, pages held above her head.
His hand shot out, closing around first one wrist, and then the other, capturing her easily as she attempted to liberate them from his grasp. His eyes shifted from the letter to her face, resting upon her lips. She knew she could escape if she truly wished to, but she wouldn’t. The knowledge, the moment sizzled between them, and his lips widened in that rare confident smile she’d come to love before he bent to kiss her, pulling her close as the pages scattered to the floor.