“Not the way I knew Christian's touch would burn me, the way it blessed me and bled me, the way he would singe me as his fingers traced my skin, the way he would sear me with his kiss. I… — A.L. Jackson Copy Share Image
“You are as ordinary as spring,' he murmured. 'As powerless as sunlight.' He ran his fingertips down her neck. 'And when I touch you, I burn,' he said, making her heart stop and a flare of wild panic light inside… — Charlotte Lamb Copy Share Image
