All she could think of, all she could feel was the touch of his lips burning on hers, the warmth of his hands at her waist, the soft caress of his fingers on her cheek, and the reassurance of his arms around her. But it was more than comfort and reassurance that his kiss had given her. It had evoked a yearning in her that Cecilia had never felt before, a desperate longing to be one with him, to be part of him, to feel as close to him physically as she felt mentally and emotionally—a yearning that could never be satisfied, because he was soon to be married to another woman. The pain of this simultaneous discovery and loss hit her like a physical blow, bringing Cecilia to a standstill in the middle of Bond Street Fashionable shoppers swirled around her as she struggled to catch her breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never felt so alive or so at a loss. All her life, Cecilia had been sure of where she was going and what she wanted. Practically from the moment she had been able to grasp a piece of chalk or a pencil she had wanted to draw, and then to paint.
