"Let me down," Aveline whispered, though her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it all the way up to her throat.
She did not know whether she was imagining it or whether Theron was doing this on purpose, but why did she keep ending up in situations like this lately?
No. She was certain she was not imagining it.
She was certain she had not imagined the way he had lingered near her chest, his breath warming her through the fabric of her dress. She was certain she had not imagined the brief, almost careless graze of his lips against her chin. And now—now she was certain he was looking at her mouth as though he intended to—
The memory of the kiss from the previous night rose in her mind without warning.
Her chest tightened until she could hardly breathe.
This was wrong.
Dangerous.
For her body, for her heart, for everything that was left of her composure.
