The fire dances about, circling and jumping in and out of each other until it's so busy that it's hard to know where one starts and another ends. It is beautiful, but only for as long as one stares at it. Only Geralt looks at her, completely transfixed by her smile and the way the fire in front of them flickers and dances in her eyes.

He's finding that an urge is steadily growing inside him. The type that can only result in reciprocation or a slap across the face. So when Cassandra looks at him again, he moves to steal her mouth in a hard kiss.