For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The intimacy of the situation—the feel of her against him and the intoxicating scent that enveloped them—created a charged atmosphere in that dimly lit room that neither of them had anticipated.
Natalie held steadily onto his shoulders, intending to explain why she was there, but as soon as she moved her face back to look at him, her words died on her lips. The intensity in his gaze held her captive, and she froze, unable to say a word. Her breath quickened, and she swallowed hard, feeling an unfamiliar vulnerability in his presence.
Justin, too, felt his control slipping, the iron resolve he was so proud of wavering as he became acutely aware of every movement she made, every breath she took. The proximity, the softness of her against him, was almost too much.
Finally, he managed to regain a control over his thoughts, his voice coming out rough and low. "Natalie," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin.
