Veron pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and then to her lips. Her fingers ached for him, and she moved closer, rested them on the broad expanse of his chest, let them slip slowly to the sculpted hardness of his abdomen. The rhythm of his breath changed, deepened, slowed. Another tremor, and she blinked, meeting heavy-lidded, darkening eyes. He skimmed her jawline with his fingers, raised her chin, held her gaze. Her lips parted, and a shaky breath escaped them. A couple of passersby smiled at them, and she became very aware of just how this looked. And how it felt. Veron tipped his head
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