always yearned for? “I’ve never… before…” He put an arm around her waist then and drew her even closer. And there was some magic inside her, as deep and inevitable as the sea, that made her body know exactly what to do—how to fit against him, where to nestle her hips against his, and anchor her shaking hands upon his shoulders. “Then, will you let me?” “I cannot. It’s… if you knew…” His smile was its own horizon—one she could have followed, through sunrise and sunset, until the end of her days. “If I knew what? Are you already married? A French spy? Have you murdered someone?” He leaned in,
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