““Dark clouds skittered over the half moon, making shadows on her face, and the wind coming off the lake, whipped more of her hair loose. It reached for him, caressing his cheeks like loving fingers. Right then, he was afraid he’d do anything she asked of him. She leaned back, hands flat on the ground behind her, and her legs stretched out in front, one crossed over the other at her ankle. She wore no stockings tonight. Her lean legs were bare and smooth and tempting him to touch. He realized she was barefoot. And he thought about kissing her all the way from her toes to her lips. God, she was beautiful. Like an angel. Or something else ethereal and elusive and mysterious. Something you could glimpse and observe and long for, but too precious ever to hold. But he wanted to hold her. He wanted it so much he couldn’t look away. He was mesmerized by her eyes and the musical quality to her pure voice.””
