Chapter Eight
Sofia wished at that moment she were a man. If she was, she would pick up Laura’s hand and kiss it. A simple pleasure men always seemed indulge in with a beautiful woman. The gesture seemed to be used as a prelude, or an ending of sorts. She couldn’t even begin to crawl into the mind of a man, but she suddenly wanted to find out what it felt like to at least kiss her hand.
“Laura,” It lingered on her tongue like the subtleties of a fine wine, like a kiss on the lips. She wanted to say it repeatedly, in the same way she wanted pull her close and kiss her.
Laura returned her gaze at the mention of her name and offered a slight, nervous smile. She didn’t get a sense Laura was timid, not if the lively conversation they’d shared with Laura’s brother was any indication. Clearly,
