With aching tenderness, he smoothed down my skirt, frowning at the tear in the fabric he’d caused. We breathed each other as he carefully fastened the delicate buttons on my blouse. His hands were gentle and reverent as he repaired the damage, his knuckles brushing the sensitive flesh of my breasts. His lips stayed tight in concentration, and I fell a little more. Fell further into lunacy for this man who made me live. When the last button was done he paused, not moving away. “Tess...” I shook my head. Now was not the time to acknowledge what happened between us. I wanted to savour it.
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