He frowned as he moved his hand from her stomach, and she sighed as she reached out to touch his arm. The muscle rippled beneath her fingers, tensing.
“I want you to know that you have done me more of a service than I could ever repay,” she whispered. “Not just in the situation I face with the forced marriage. I have never felt anything like what we just shared. I have never imagined it was even possible. I felt alive with you. I will never forget it.”
He stared at her a moment. Like he was memorizing the parts of her face that he could see. Then he nodded. “Nor will I.”
She leaned in, cupped his cheeks and gently kissed him, reveling in his feel and his taste. Then she pulled away and pushed from the bed. She dressed swiftly, trying hard not to look at him. Knowing he was looking at her.
She moved to the door, and there she turned. He had moved to the edge of the bed and was watching her silently. She lifted her fingertips to her lips and blew him a kiss.
“Goodbye,” she whispered.
“Goodbye,” he said.
Then she forced herself to slip away and not look back again.
