His bedroom was on the opposite side of the house from hers and furnished very differently, with heavy early furniture that looked imposingly traditional and masculine. The room suited David, she thought abstractedly; it suited his maleness, his completeness. A wave of longing swept over her. Unable to stop herself, she turned in towards his body, lifting her hand towards him. Later she wasn’t even sure if she had actually meant to touch him or if the gesture had simply been one of longing, but as he turned his head towards her her fingertips grazed his mouth. She felt his breath against them, warm, tormenting her with all that could never be. She started to look away and then, to her shock, she felt David taking hold of her wrist, circling it with his thumb and fingers, holding

