“Well, we are, of course. I already told Ford I don’t intend to let him get away with trying to murder me, and there’s no way we can allow him to continue to murder innocent people,” Eliza said, caressing his jaw with the tips of her fingers.
“I might be crazy, but I believe you.”
Eliza smiled wanly. “It seems you’re the only sane one around here.”
“Miss…Eliza…” Paul turned his head slightly, moving his cheek against her hand. “I think…can I kiss you?”
Eliza nodded, tilting up her chin in a small invitation. His lips were warm, chapped, hesitant, and even boyish. Eliza didn’t know if he had ever kissed anybody before, but if so, it had been a rare occurrence. He didn’t have any grace, any finesse, his tongue blundering into her mouth. What he lacked in skill, he made up for in enthusiasm—he shook like an over-excited puppy. Eliza realized that if she wanted, she could train him like a puppy. It was a shocking, heady thought, one that made her skin tingle and turn red.