All right, my hope—but I am not saying the rest of it—I have something you need to feel.”

She feigned the sound of outrage. “But we barely know each other, sir!”

He laughed softly. “But you must hold it in your hand and feel it change,” he urged, in her ear. “I insist. I can wait no longer.”

She knew they were on a serious subject, but the flutter of his breath on her skin, the low drawl of his words—heat raced along all her nerve endings. “Will I like it?”

“Well, I do have to apologize for its size. It is rather small.” And with that, he pressed something rather small into her hand.

Sherry Thomas