The Man Who Kissed Me Like No TomorrowDesmond shifted, rolling off her but immediately pulling her into the curve of his arm. He wasn't running, and he wasn't apologizing. But he was stroking her hair, his fingers tracing patterns on her sweat-damp skin as if they had all the time in the world."Anna," he murmured, his voice now hoarse. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, a gesture that was so tender, so shockingly domestic, it almost hurt.She couldn't speak. What was there to say? Thank you? Now what? Please, never let me go? She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him, trying to memorize this feeling of being held, and of being utterly and completely claimed."This changes everything," he said, stating the obvious with a gravity that settled in her stomach like a stone."We can't," she finally whispered, the words were a pathetic protest against a truth she had no desire to fight."My father…""I know," he sighed, a heavy, weary sound. "But it's done, we'
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