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224 pages, ebook
First published April 30, 2013








"Won't you kiss me?" she whispered, sidling close. "Just the once?"
"The thing is, Miss Highwood, I'm not interested in kissing you just the once."
"Oh." Her face fell.
He propped one finger under her chin, tilting her face back up. "If I were to kiss you, once wouldn't be enough. I'd want to kiss you many times. In lots of places."

"Still don't know how you managed to smash it like that," he said.
By slamming it in a drawer. And finishing the deed with a rock.
"I don't know, either," she prevaricated. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest.
"I could almost believe someone did it on purpose. I know accidents happen. But they don't usually happen the same way twice."
As he fastened the necklace, his fingertips brushed her neck.
Diana sucked in her breath. She wanted to pretend the touch was an accident. As he'd said, accidents happen.
But they didn't happen the same way twice.
He caressed her neck a second time, his roughened thumb sliding down the soft skin at her nape.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
She couldn't answer. She couldn't move, couldn't think.
"I wonder about it. Why you come so often. Why every metal latch and clasp and rivet you possess seems to need mending of late." His voice grew deeper, almost dreamy. "I've told myself you're just bored with this village. With this weather, there's little else to do."
He circled her, running his finger beneath that chain. Branding her with a necklace of his touch.
"Other times"—she caught a wry note in his voice—"I decide you've been sent by the devil to torment me for my sins."
He came to stand before her, holding that vial that dangled from her necklace. He pulled gently, and she swayed toward him. Just an inch.
"And then sometimes I think maybe ... just maybe ... you're hoping for something to happen. Something like this."
“You can’t know,” he finally whispered into her hair. “You can’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”
She turned her head, seeking his kiss. “I think I have some idea.”
“Won’t you kiss me?” she whispered, sidling close.“Just the once?”
“The thing is, Miss Highwood, I’m not interested in kissing you just the once.”
“Oh.” Her face fell. He propped one finger under her chin, tilting her face back up.
“If I were to kiss you, once wouldn’t be enough. I'd want to kiss you many times. In lots of places.”
“My father used to say, Christ might be a carpenter, but the Heavenly Father is a blacksmith. He melts the sun down every night and forges it again the next morning.”
“I need to know,” he said. “I need to know, right now, if you’re mine. I’ve been patient for years,and if need be, I can wait years more. I’ll do anything in my power to win you, to keep you. But I need
to know, this moment, if you’ll be mine in the end.” His hands moved to bracket her face, uncomfortably tight. His gaze burned into hers. “Tell me.”
With every wild beat, her heart thumped against his pendant. If she was looking for answers, she didn’t need to search any further than that.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Y—”
Before she could say it twice, his lips were on hers.