They stood close, her hand still resting on the back of Sullivan’s. The delicate warmth of her palm quickened his breath.
Bethany, oblivious to Sullivan’s reaction, remained immersed in a mixture of shame and indignation. Fighting back the urge, she finally looked up, glaring at him. “Sullivan, you...”
“What about me?” Sullivan gazed into her eyes, as if bewitched. They were so clear, their expressions as eloquent as words.
His voice was low, barely audible to Bethany. The proximity, the tone, it was all the intimate murmur of lovers.
Bethany took an involuntary step back, unnerved by the charged atmosphere. A woman’s instinct alerted her to the danger, a premonition of what might come next.
As she retreated, Sullivan advanced, his gaze fixed on her eyes. He coaxed her gently, “Why ar
