She felt as if she had. He stepped back, letting his hand drop from her arm. The stark contrast between his warm palm and the cool air of the dining room around them felt like a sudden punishment. Her cheek burned where he’d kissed her, and she felt that searing heat deep in her core. But she could not take back her question. She was not even sure she wanted to. She still could not figure out which sick part of her had asked it. Or why she wanted so desperately to hear his answer. He moved instead to the long table and picked up his wineglass, taking a long pull of the rich red liquid before setting it down, and Becca could not help but notice how easily he moved, how gracefully, even when she suspected he was as off balance as she was. She was in deep trouble with this man. There was no use denying it. He had just tried to kiss a ghost and she. It did not bear thinking about. She was not even sure what had come over her in the first place. They had been having dinner. It had been … far too easy.
