The kiss, scorching and inescapable.
Claire Prescott felt her heart being tossed and turned by him, as if a thick mist lay over her eyes, impenetrable, leaving her unable to see clearly. All she could sense was the boiling blood rushing through her, overwhelming every thought in her mind, leaving her in a daze as she was held and kissed.
She didn't understand why he had changed so suddenly.
It was as though a hook had caught her heart, tugging at it with strands of pain.
She clutched his cool shirt, and under his confinement, bent backward, turning her head away from his kiss.
Keane Lowell halted, restrained, his vision capturing her tensed shoulder and neck lines, her side profile naturally elegant and her skin as pale as snow, an unadorned beauty that was deeply enticing.
Unable to resist, he buried his head, his lips brushing lightly over that thin skin for a few moments.
So many days passed without seeing her, without touching or holding her.
