Some things, once they happen, have happened.
Especially between a man and a woman.
A single kiss was enough to set them apart from everyone else.
And they hadn't just kissed.
More than once.
It was ultimately unavoidable.
"What is it you really want, Mr. York?" Summer Thorne asked in a low voice.
Timothy York's gaze lingered on her face. "I'd like to know that too."
A cryptic non-answer.
Just like all their intimate moments—real, yet always as ephemeral as the wind.
Impossible to touch, impossible to hold.
And just like the kiss of this very moment.
Neither of them knew how it had started. All that remained was intuition and instinct.
It was dreamlike, surreal.
Until a phone suddenly rang—
The sound jolted them both back to their senses.
The scene felt strangely familiar. Her thoughts still hazy, Summer Thorne turned and reached for her phone.
Seeing Evan Cheney's name, Summer Thorne quickly answered.
