“Oh, Leah.” His hand cradled her cheek.
His head dipped before she could countenance it.
Before she could anticipate.
Before she could prepare.
Before—
The press of his mouth to hers was impossibly soft. A fleeting shock of awareness.
Leah gasped and pressed her palms to his chest.
The kiss lingered for only the briefest of seconds.
Chaste. Gentle.
Far too short.
His hand fell from her face. She instantly missed the warmth of it.
She kept her eyes closed.
Partially to savor the heady rush of emotion, the feel of his lips atop hers.
Partially to protect her heart, to hide how desperately she wanted more, more, more of him.
Fox stared downat this wife, at the pink in her cheeks, at the rapid rise and fall of her bosom.
That kiss had possibly been a mistake.
Because now that he knew the pillowy feel of her lips, the honey sweetness of her touch . . .
How was he to remain content with a marriage in name only?
“Are you well?” he murmured, as she remained stock still.
“Aye,” she replied, licking her lips as if savoring the lingering feel of him. The very thought set his heart to pounding. “Just . . . committing this moment tae memory.”
Her earnest tone caused him to grin. “Why is that?”
“Because . . . I never want tae forget how your kiss feels.”
His grin widened, her honesty disarming.“And how does it feel?”
“Like sunshine—No!” The faintest smile curved her very-kissable lips. “Like rainbows shimmering in my blood. I shall always remember it. Thank ye.”
Her answer resurrected a part of him he had considered long dead.
That she would so treasure such a small gesture.
Gently, he cupped her cheeks between his palms. Her eyes flared open in surprise at the touch.
“Wife, youneverhave to simply remember what my kiss feels like. You may have more of them whenever you wish.”
She paused, gaze widening even further.
And then she acted, as if something within her had been set free, as if his words ignited her.
