The spot on her shoulder where he had touched her felt like it was on fire. When their eyes met, it was like adding fuel to the flames, growing hotter and hotter.
Erin Lowell's breath caught in her throat.
Zane Jennings's other hand was at his side, clutching her purse. Perhaps from nervousness, his fingertips were clenched so tightly they had turned white.
Her eyelashes fluttered as she lifted her gaze to stare at him.
Zane Jennings's jacket was black, his shirt underneath was black, and the look in his eyes was black, too, but it held a hidden light. Her own gaze softened, the iciness in it vanishing.
The faint, silvery moonlight on her face seemed to soften the aloof coldness that enveloped her. She didn't know if it was the wind, the light, or the man before her, but something easily made her lower the guard she shouldn't have had to keep up at all times.
