That night, Nathan made love to her.
But it wasn’t the same as before. There was a quiet reverence in the way he touched her, a kind of hesitation that felt almost sacred. His hands explored her skin like he was memorizing it — slow, deliberate, tracing the curve of her shoulder, the dip of her waist, the flutter of her pulse beneath his thumb.
Leah’s breath caught. Every brush of his fingers left heat behind, every kiss deepened the silence between them. He kissed her as though he was rediscovering something he’d lost — her, himself, or the fragile thing that had always lived between them.
When his lips finally found hers, they moved with unhurried certainty. His breath mingled with hers, warm and uneven, and she felt the tremor in his body as he pressed closer. The tension between the
