Dakota went still.
Heat rose through her skin and bloomed across her cheeks, sudden and involuntary and entirely beyond her management, vivid color returning to her face with a completeness that had nothing to do with poison or recovery. She turned slightly, pressing her warm face against the cooler surface of the pillow as though that might be sufficient.
It wasn't.
The warmth lingered. And with it came a thought she could not fully suppress, moving through her with the quiet persistence of something that had been there long before she had named it.
Every time, with Kade, something was different.
