She raised her gaze to meet his. He was propped on his arms, his body still flush with hers and their noses were mere inches apart. His eyes were warm with desire, liquid with want, and her heart fluttered in response.
His voice was so tender and understanding. He stared down at her like she was the only woman he’d ever made love to. A mixture of awe and wonder that humbled her.
“I was thinking we shouldn’t do this,” she admitted.
“But? There’s definitely a but in that sentence.” he said.
He sounded so hopeful that she smiled and once again traced the lean lines of his face with a fingertip.
“But I don’t care. I should care. I should be on my way back to New York. I should have never agreed to stay.”
“But,” he murmured again, his voice husky and so very predatory.
