Samir’s eyes slid shut as if blocking out the sight of her could block out everything else. As if he could ignore his inconvenient adoration, or the surge of anticipation flooding his veins. He had to be careful. This could all go dangerously wrong. He could be dangerously wrong, to hear that word and think it meant she wanted him. ‘Perfect’ could mean anything. The low, husky tone of her voice could mean anything.
