Then his fingers rose.

The back of his knuckles brushed beneath her chin barely there at first, a silent question. When she didn’t pull away, his touch settled, gently lifting her face toward his.

Soft.

Intimate.

Intentional.

Her breath caught.

“Why do you always pretend you’re unaffected?” he murmured, his voice low, close enough that the words warmed her lips.

His thumb traced slowly along the curve beneath her jaw.

“You sit there like you don’t notice when someone’s watching you.”

His gaze dipped to her mouth, lingered then returned to her eyes.

“But I do.”

His fingers curled slightly, holding her face just enough that the space between them...