The room was steeped in a hazy, seductive tension of desire.
His large hand finally drifted onto Charlotte Knight's leg and froze there, unable to keep going. Damn it, the fire low in his abdomen was burning his mouth and tongue dry.
He simply broke off the kiss, stood up, and rushed downstairs!
Charlotte's body went weak, and only after he left did she slowly come back to her senses in secret, staring in the direction he'd gone.
She had never had such close contact with a man before; this time she'd run into him by sheer accident.
Agreeing to help him was entirely because of the guilt in her heart!
Yes, the one who'd molested her in the bar that night hadn't been him, but she'd smashed a bottle down and left him seriously injured.
Even though he'd never blamed her, and had even secretly tried to help her, right now, to make up for what she'd done, she had no choice but to agree to him first.
*
