a foreign language-one made of warmth, tension, and wonder

t about

s rev

racked. "Yo

are

ure I beli

nt of his chest, feeling every controlled breath, every

ay?" sh

e whispered. "But wi

dropped t

inally no

dn't k

t

nst his and just breathed with him. O

as if every inch of her body might shatter under pr

what I'm doing

. "I'm tired of men

raw, shaken

e kiss

wasn't polished or p

t was

le life and didn't want to ruin it by rushing. Isla melted into it, her fing

lled apart, both of

," she whispered, "but you taste

hav

at her, eyes bu

r y

at p

red his throat a

y for everyth

her skin was burning, her body practi

hing, kissing-it still messes with my head sometimes. Some

Isla said gently. "An

er like she wa

re okay w

you, Julian. I'm here

out and to

ou. At yo

red. "God. You're

. "That's

-

That

cashmere, expensive in the way only the softest things could be. Julian sa

re. No ex

tween them. A slow burn. A fi

the book and

fall for me

"What if I

bli

, Julian. I'm no

ike she was a pu

that made her stomach

don't

rows

'd rather