It was a moment of intimacy so brief it couldn't even be called a kiss, like a feather brushing across Silas Norwood's face.
"I just feel that something so private shouldn't be done in front of people."
Celia Sterling's voice was very soft, just loud enough to slip into Silas Norwood's ear.
She was clearly mortified. She released her arms and slid off him. Silas Norwood remained perfectly still. Though his expression was hidden in the darkness, the sense of distance caused by his inexplicable mood receded like the tide. His large, well-defined hand came to rest on Celia Sterling's slender waist, its touch both gentle and firm, bringing back their familiar intimacy.
"Cece." His voice was slightly hoarse.
Celia Sterling hummed softly in response.
"I'm thirty-one," Silas Norwood said very slowly, his voice growing even hoarser. "I'm too old to play these youthful games of beating around the bush."
'What does he mean, beating around the bush?'
