Looking into his eyes, Maya sees the shimmer of her Mihai. There you are, she thinks, I've missed you so much.
"Thank you," she says. It takes every bit of her self control to resist the urge to pull him to her. The ache of being so close to him is finally too much to bear. He doesn't know her, not in the way that she knows him. He doesn't want you that way, she chides herself.
With much effort, she rises to her feet with a sigh but still loathe to let go of him. "I should go," she stammers. "I know you said I should stay...but I have to get back. My dog...his name is Oso. He will be waiting for me. I need to go...home."
She looks around the hotel suite, so devoid of any sort of feeling of home. It is beautiful, but cold. All she can think is how badly she wants this man to wake up next to her in the cottage covered with roses or the gallery apartment that is filled with art. She wants to hold his hand and have coffee together. She wants to cook him dinner. She wants, she wants, she wants. Come home with me, she wants to say. Come home.
It's hard wanting him so much. He's not yours, she reminds herself. He doesn't want you that way. "I'll let you know when I get there. And then maybe you can come by when you are in London? I don't know what you can show me, but I can learn. If there is anything I can do to ward my places, that might help. I don't know how to do that sort of thing. I don't know if you do..."
She stops, realizing that she is talking too much. That's what happens when you don't say what you mean, she thinks. Miss Kitty seems to switch her tail in disdain, as if she knows exactly what Maya is wrestling with and could care less.