New Cafferty & Quinn!
When We Touch
MIRROR, MIRROR, ON
JAMIE NODDED, "GOOD NIGHT, MY LADY."
"Good night, Sir James."
And yet neither moved, and the distance between them might not have been, for he felt her heat and the burning energy and passion that were so much a part of her. Wild imaginings flooded through him; he pictured a world in which his uncle did not exist, in which they were just two people who had met, who had felt that burst of electicity in just a moment when their eyes had first met. He saw a mist of silver in which he was free to draw her into his arms, ravage and explore with the passion of his kiss, send clothing scattering to the winds of time, and sink into clouds of floating wonder where naked flesh burst into a glory of sensuality, touch and taste . . .
"Good night," Maggie said again, and there was a strange and desperate sound to it.
Silver clouds evaporated.
She turned and started up the walk.