“You’re all mine.” Delight colored her voice, her body arching into his as her hands reached for the back of his neck to urge his head closer still. And her mouth—her mouth kissed him and kissed him right there in that gallery where everyone could see them. “And I’m yours,” she whispered against his ear.
Love was risky business. As risky some days as a fast, hard jump with the chute snapping you up and back. Other days, it was a slow, smooth glide down to earth. His hands pulled her to him, holding on because the heart was the sweetest jump spot of all, and now he knew exactly where he was headed in this sweet, hot ride. Straight to his woman. Straight to Faye.
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Copyright © 2013 Anne Marsh
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-8786-1