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enough and more than enough. Her heart filled, where it had been empty for so long.
    “Friend of the heart,” she said, softly, a smile curving her lips. “Yes, you are.”
    And he was.

Chapter Three
     
    Outside the storm raged, rattling the shutters, sending blasts of cold through the gaps between them. Awakening with Delae’s soft, sweetly scented body against his was a delight. Dorovan found it wasn’t just her hair that glowed so warmly but her body, too. She was like a small banked fire that radiated heat. Gently drawing her against him - he nestled himself between her smooth thighs and sleepily stroked her, cupping the full globes of her breasts in his hands. She was delightful as she shivered to awareness - her body heating for him in quite another way, growing tantalizingly damp.
    Delae found herself aching to be filled and then Dorovan’s hand slid down her belly to comb through the tight curls between her thighs.
    It was breathtaking as he touched her - coaxed her body to fire and then to flame at the very moment he entered her. A soft cry burst from her as he drove deeply into her.
    Almost desperately, Delae pressed back - the heat inside her a demand which needed to be answered.
    She was so wet and so very warm and she’d so needed to be filled.
    Her soft cry fired Dorovan’s blood and he answered it, touching her lightly, caressing her until her body hummed, until she tightened around him again as he thrust inside her.
    He felt her body tremble and he was lost, exploding inside her, filling her in quite another way.
    Delae had never felt so sated, so thoroughly eased. She smiled and sighed.
    In all her years, in that moment she knew true happiness for the first time, a peace and a joy that had always been denied her.
    More than content, Dorovan drew her against him, still inside her and quite pleased to be there. He opened his eyes.
    Now there was time for details.
    Her bedchamber was like her, small, warm and welcoming. There were touches of Delae here, dried sweet herbs in a bowl on the mantel that lent their scent to the room. Simple but brightly dyed draperies the color of sunset covered the windows, a small tapestry hung from on a wall.
    There was a sword behind her door. A simple but serviceable enough weapon.
    Studying it, puzzled, he asked with a nod of his head toward it, “Why do you have a sword behind your door?”
    With a small shrug, she said, “We live far from aid and there’s no one else. So it’s there… in case.”
    Delae didn’t mention it was there for other reasons, that one was enough.
    Lifting one elegant eyebrow, he asked - not unkindly, “Do you know how to use it?”
    Bemused, she looked at him in question. 
    “I’m Swordmaster for my Enclave,” he said, “among other things.”
    She took a breath and smiled. “Ah.” She eyed him. “Will you teach me to use it better then?”
    Dorovan smiled, pleased. There were much worse ways to spend a day in the storm.
    “Yes.”
    It suited him too, that she would know how to defend herself properly.
    “After breakfast,” she said, delighted and ran on light bare feet to the door to peek around it and call, “Petra?”
    “Yes, lady?” A distant voice answered.
    “Breakfast in the great hall, please?” Delae asked. “I would ask to have Dorovan join me.”
    She well knew it was best if no one remarked that Dorovan had spent the night in her bed, therefore the subterfuge. Elves didn’t lie with the women of men, or so it was said. Intensely aware of his presence behind her, she couldn’t deny the thrill that went through her to know he was indeed there.
    “Yes, Lady,” came the reply.
    She was naked and completely unconcerned with it to Dorovan’s delight, her body lovely to look upon unclothed, only drawing on her nightdress and robe to breakfast in, her thick bouncy red hair bound back with a tie.
    Reaching out, Dorovan pulled the tie free to plunge his hands into the thick mass of it.
    “I like it free,” he