The tension was slipping away from under his fingers as he touched her, and building everywhere else. A kind of gathering inside her, a concentration of heat. The pressure in her chest was so sudden and strong it made her breath short. The muscles in her stomach began to twist, tighten. Ache.
“My face doesn’t have anything to do with what I am.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t take away the pure pleasure of looking at it.

Autore: Nora Roberts