“She knew this man, had spent endless hours escaping reality in his arms, and yet he was a stranger. His enhanced features masked her lover, separated her from the man of her dreams. But his voice remained the same. “Say my name,” she whispered. “Tuesday.” She watched his lips, focused on the deep rumble of his voice. It wasn’t enough. Warmth shone in his vivid teal gaze, but she longed for the common chocolate brown she’d seen so often in her fantasies. “I don’t think I can do this.” Expecting ...him to reach for her, to initiate the intimacies promised by his expression, her heart leapt in protest when he turned and walked away. She closed her eyes and caught her bottom lip between her teeth, damning her hesitation, the fear that kept her from reaching out…for what? What did she hope to find in the arms of a man like Marc Sinclair? The moody wail of a muted trumpet floated over an electric guitar’s bluesy chords. Her eyelids fluttered open and she found Marc standing next to a row of electronic components neatly recessed in the wall.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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