“That fight we had, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t mean a thing,” he told her and leaned forward.
“That’s not how you felt then,” she reminded him, trying not to notice that he was just within reach of her.
“As I remember it, you had plenty to say, too.”
“Okay, yes. I did. You made me mad.”
“Oh, trust me, you made that perfectly clear.”
“Good then. We both remember that argument.”
“That’s not all we remember,” he said, voice low, thick. He reached for her hand before she could pull back and rubbed his thumb across her palm.
Tula shivered. It wasn’t her fault, she thought frantically. It’s not like she chose to be this attracted to him. It was simple chemistry. A biological imperative. Simon touched her and she went up in flames.
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