So much for that smoke, though at least he provided plenty of satisfaction, and fulfilled the need to fidget. If she had him in her arms, if she could touch him gently and make sure he was real and healthy and hers, then the cigarette was hardly needed, since she felt anchored enough.

When, he asked, and prompted Fleur into a snort. "William, darling, mon coeur, it's war. I don't think my parents will stand for propriety the way you expect them to." She kisses his cheek. "Maman will put you to some form of test, just to be sure you've not just fallen for my willy Veela looks."