Chapter Nine
Grace wove her fingers through Nick’s hair, and she was surprised to find it long and curling down to his neck. His mouth was on hers, heated and urgent, and she forgot to think. He tasted like the champagne, full of stars, and he grasped her hands in his and pushed her gently onto the blanket. Then his hands were stroking down her ribs, ghosting across her stomach, caressing her breasts, and he was leaning over her, kissing her neck and licking that spot under her ear that made her—
“You can fix it, Grace,” Nick said, his breath warm against her skin.
Grace pulled back, looking around wildly then crawling back on her elbows to get away from him. She was on the blanket, but not in the meadow. They were at Pops’s cathedral overlooking the ginseng. The quivering leaves of gol
