Nate’s kiss made her feel such warring sensations—both safe and wild, vulnerable and empowered, cherished and cherishing. Never, not even during her five-year marriage, had she felt this way. She could lose herself in this kiss, this embrace, forever. Then, abruptly, he ended it and pulled back. She blinked, momentarily disoriented by the brusqueness of his action. She searched his face for some clue as to what he was feeling right now, why he had suddenly turned cold. His guard was up again, his expression suddenly distant, unreadable. The only sign that he had been affected by that kiss was a slight change in the rhythm of his breathing. The smile he gave her was almost perfunctory. “I think it’s probably time we head back to town.” That was it? No acknowledgment of that kiss they’d just shared? What was wrong? It felt like a very clear and very definite rejection.
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