“Sinclair’s touch meant absolutely nothing. That’s why I let it happen.” Her knees almost buckled at the look in his eyes. She wanted to beg the Devils, the Angels, the universe, to let her keep him for just a bit longer. “But your touch?” Her voice broke now. “Your touch means fucking everything. And that’s why we can’t cross that line again.” He grasped her face in his hands. “In a different life, in a fair one, I would’ve kept you until my eternal soul withered away to dust,” he vowed to her.
