He merely responded. This kiss was utterly different from the one he had so shamelessly stolen. Not a prompting of lust. Or the act of a man in desperate need of a distraction in his life. This was a woman, pouring every ounce of her soul into the action. She wasn’t holding back. He could feel her trust and tenderness wrap around him as surely as her arms did. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t worried. Her body arched into his, lengthening their contact from chest to thigh. God forgive me. He was powerless to resist so honest a gift, even though more than a week ago he had vowed to hold her at arm’s length. Arm’s length be damned! He drew her closer. Their mouths tumbled over each other in desperation to give and take. He pushed the tips of his fingers into her hairline as he grabbed hold of her face to steady their feverish desire, gentling the caress till his heart and body ached with need. I can’t do this. He pulled away, still holding her face, watching her eyes slowly open, like the sun rising on the dawn of a new day.
