Mac’s hand slid to the nape of her neck, his fingers strong and firm. She wanted to tell him to squeeze tighter, to hold onto her this time. ‘Let me make it up to you,’ he whispered. She wanted to. She wanted him to make it up to her. All the years she hurt, all the years she missed him. She wanted him to make it up to her. ‘What’s it going to take, Annie? Do I need to get down on my knees for you?’ The question sent a shiver down her spine. Mac felt it and his eyes darkened. ‘Is that what you want, Annabelle? You want me on my knees?’
