“I’ve never been kissed.” Her voice had a plaintive quality, as if the change in topic were perfectly logical. “Never?” She shook her head. “No.” “That’s a shame. Ye should do something about it.” “I tried. I kissed the back of my hand.” She lifted her other hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. She pulled her hand away, studying it. “I don’t think it’s quite the same, do you?” “Nae. I dinnae think it’s the same thing at all.” “No,” she pouted. The motion forced her plump lower lip to jut out further. Andrew found himself unable to look away. “You were made for kissing, Jane.” “I know.”
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