Juliette’s nails cut into my arm. “Kiss her, Matthew, or I will make her bleed.” Cupping my face with one careful, gentle hand, he struggled to push up the corners of his mouth into a smile. “It will be all right, mon coeur.” Matthew’s pupils were dots in a sea of gray-green. One thumb stroked my jaw as he bent nearer, his lips nearly touching mine. His kiss was slow and tender, a testament of feeling. Juliette stared at us coldly, drinking in the details. She crept closer as Matthew drew away from me. “Ah.” Her voice was blank and bitter. “You like the way she responds when you touch her. But
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