She frowned harder and picked up the rose, but she hadn't noticed the thorns on the stem and it pricked her.
She startled and dropped it, accidentally knocking over the vase—sighing with relief when there was no water inside to spill.
Then the most perfect warmth curled around her back and thick, strong arms reached past her and a caramel voice whispered in her ear, "Do you mind?"
She could hear the smile in his voice.
"Sure," she said, smiling back as he reached for the vase and set it safely on its base again, returning the rose to it. But he didn't remove his arms immediately. For a moment he just stood there, embracing her with his body.
Then she let her hands—even the bleeding one—rest on the insides of his elbows, then slide down his forearms, the crisp hair tickling her palms u
