Alaric.
He strode in like the storm he was—cloak dusted in wind, sword slung at his back, midnight eyes scanning, and when they landed on her, his entire body relaxed.
"There you are," he murmured. "Fiery wife, I've been looking for you."
Salviana smiled and stepped forward as the girls' mouths dropped.
"You found me," she said simply.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her—not a polite peck, but a kiss full of heat and ownership and a little too long for public decency.
When they broke apart, Salviana turned to the stunned onlookers and added with a wink, "And for the record… he's whatever you can imagine and more."
She tugged Alaric by the hand and swept out of the boutique like royalty.
Behind them, silence reigned.
Until one girl whispered faintly, "I think I just changed religion."
