She was counting herself in that assessment, correct? Because to Hyacinthe, she was the most beautiful thing in the room. He sprawled across her, panting and replete, his forehead touching hers and gave Xanthippe a bright, roguish smile--one that was a little tired and dopey around the edges.

That had taken a fair bit out of him, yes.

"You are exceptional," he murmured, stroking a curl between his fingers.