She stood close enough for him to hear the soft rhythm of her breathing, her dark brown hair spilling down her back like a silken curtain.
The temptation to bury his hands in it to feel whether it was as soft as it looked was almost laughable in its intensity.
She faced the window, her back to him, unaware of the storm raging in his chest. From where he stood, she looked impossibly small. Fragile. As though one wrong touch could shatter her.
He moved toward her slowly, like a predator closing in on prey except there was no malice in him. Only hunger. A need to taste her again. To relive the kiss he hadn't been able to erase from his mind.
Her floral scent wrapped around him as he stopped just an inch behind her. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body.
His hands twitched.
Before he could stop himself, his palms settled against her slim waist.
