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“That’s not to say it won’t happen. Just not at the moment. And it can’t be by me.” His expression turns hopeful. “So I could do it? I could kill him, and it would be okay?” The thought of him getting close enough to lay a finger on that wily Irish bastard is laughable, but I don’t want to discourage this kind of enthusiasm. “Not only would it be okay, I’d give you a year off from tithing.” Energized, he leaps to his feet. “But not a word to anyone that you received permission,” I warn, gazing at him steadily, the threat of violence in my eyes. “Disobey me on that, and you’re done.” He babbles his thanks, rushing over to kiss my hand. I want to swat him away, but I don’t have the heart to kick him when he’s down. Falling in love has made me f*****g mushy. We exchange a few more wo
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