A Doctor's Vow. Christine Rimmer

      “You. I’m hoping you’re going to ask me in.”

      She said nothing. She was thinking how unwise that would be, how late it was, how if she asked him in, they’d only start talking and she’d start forgetting how this wasn’t going to go anywhere.

      One of his strong shoulders lifted in a half shrug beneath that fine wool coat. “I know. It’s late. But opportunities are limited. Maybe we should snatch them when they come along.” He reached out. His hand whispered along her cheek, and then dropped away. She felt seared right down to the center of herself.

      “All right,” she said, thinking that her voice sounded slightly dazed—and that she could still feel his touch, burning there, on her cheek. “Come on.”