“You were meant for me, Poppy. I can feel it in my fingertips when I touch you.”

“I have waited for this, Beth, this moment,” he whispered as he took her hands in his and brought her fingertips to his mouth, kissing each fingertip before placing her palms on either side of his face. “When Sussex, Black and I returned from the East, I watched you as you did this—touched Sussex, then Black. And I waited, holding my breath, barely able to control my feelings, waiting to feel your touch on my face. But you did not. You made a polite enquiry after my health and left me standing alone by the hearth. And, then, the other afternoon with Sheldon, you touched him, and I was alone, and apart again. Remembering what it was like to await your touch, and then never to feel it. Beth,” he whispered as he moved closer to her, “won’t you touch me? See me?”

“Archer's finger grazed hers. 'I feel you. As if you were connected to me by an invisible string.' He touched his chest. 'I feel you here. In my heart.”

“Sage?" Adrian lightly touched my arm, and I jumped at the feel of his fingertips against my skin. "You okay?""I don't know," I said softly. "I just thought of something crazy.""Welcome to my world.”

“You make me feel like I have wings when you touch me.”

“I can hold you up with one hand, but you can balance me on your fingertips.”