Redsand Canyon Estía

Will you be my wife, Tamar?

Arsenio could not break from her gaze. He swam in the pale brown of her eyes, filling him to the brim with warmth and care.

The redstone man pressed his chest to her, wishing to sprinkle kisses along her neck, her nape, her shoulders. She had come with him, had followed him to Mereo. The Greek did not wish to live his life without being able to call her his – his beloved, his most treasured, his wife.

Will you let me be your husband?