"You will be the death of me." That was the thought that ran through his mind every time Emily came close enough for him to sense her presence, touch her soft skin, and smell her sweet, floral scent.
Again, no woman had made him feel this way before.
Only her, his wife.
It was like an obsession that he could not control, or an addiction that the only fix was her. He wanted her so much that it was killing him inside not to have her.
However, he had made a promise not to touch her. A promise that he had started to regret making. But he was a man of honor. So, he could do nothing until she made the first move.
"Was that a sign?" He rubbed his cheeks where her lips had touched, wondering if the kiss meant more than just gratitude.
For a minute, Nolan stood paralyzed before her, unwilling to move or say anything, in fear that he might do something he might regret later on.
