“He walked backwards a few more steps and brought Brittany’s hand to his lips without taking his eyes off me. My hand tingled where he kissed her. And the bastard knew it.”

“My face is in his hands and my lips are at his lips and he's kissing me and I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe.”

“She started to turn, but before she could step away, Tamani grabbed her hand. Without breaking eye contact, he raised her hand to his face and brushed his lips over her knuckles.”

“She reached out to him and stroked his cheek. His skin was like velvet as he leaned his face into her hand and closed his eyes. He breathed a sigh and her eyes drifted to his lips. Soft, luscious. Her lips ached to take the kiss there. She leaned in towards Jonas, but he opened his eyes and placed two fingers on her lips to stop her.”

“Max didn't take his hands off her. As they walked to where he'd parked the hired car, he kept his arm round her shoulders, even though he was carrying her cases in his other hand and they kept bumping him.”

“don’t make me walk back without being beside you, holding your hand.” He lowered one arm from my waist to draw my hand to his lips. “I’ve lived for two hundred years with only the imagination of what it would be like to touch this,”—he moved my hand over his mouth, kissing each knuckle—“to hold this . . .” When my breath became weak, he lowered it from his lips, but kept it firmly in his hand. “Please allow me to escort you back to the house?”