She wanted to look aside from the intensity of his gaze. Needed to look aside. But couldn’t. Nathan Gallagher of New York City might well be the best thing she’d ever seen as well.
Without breaking eye contact, she eased backward onto the bed and under the covers. He followed her slowly.
Each place he touched her, she placed a wall around—to both preserve it and keep it safe against the unknown future. His hand, endlessly tracing the curve of her hip until it was sealed as surely as the prairie by a winter’s hard frost. Where his head lay between her breasts as he listened to her heart until the sound was swallowed by the vast emptiness of the Montana prairie.
And when he finally took her, when he filled her heart like no one ever had or could again, that too she locked away behind the
