Piotr Rasputin is a gentleman. If he were any more of one, Maya would kill him.

The time for patience and the slow, cautious dance is passing, she thinks, watching the sunlight play across his face; feeling that solid, warm point of contact between them. Maybe it's time to go for broke; to take a risk.

She takes a deep breath and says, "Piotr--" but the problem is, she hasn't thought beyond that. Her sense of conviction isn't much help.