“I’m not drunk now,” she said, gazing up into his face. He was slightly flushed, but, she thought, more from the kiss they’d just shared, or possibly all the dancing, than because he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol he’d drunk earlier that evening. “Are you?”
For a moment, he didn’t reply. His hands were still holding hers tightly, but he glanced away. “I don’t think so,” he said. “But….”
“But what?”
To her disappointment — he moved her away from the bed, went over to the sliding glass door that opened on the balcony. After letting go of her hands, he opened the door and stepped outside.
Wondering what in the world he was thinking, Cassandra went with him and stood there, feeling the cool, slightly salt-scented breeze tug at her hair. And since he didn’t seem inclined to sp
