Dancing in the Moonlight - Harlequin.com

RAEANNE THAYNE
137
and she buried her face in his shirt, mortified but unable
to stanch the flow. She couldn’t even say for sure why
she was crying—a jumbled mix of exhaustion and pain
and fear for the terrifying future.
Through it all, she was only vaguely aware of him
carrying her to the living room and lowering himself to
the sofa. He smelled so good, spicy and male, and his
arms were a solid, comforting sanctuary.
She knew when she came back to her senses she
would eventually be mortified that she had let him this
close. But for now she was helpless to do anything but
let him hold her while she gave in to the thunderburst
of emotion inside her.
She didn’t know how long she cried out her rage and
pain and grief against him.
Eventually, like the tide receding, she felt the wild
storm seep out of her, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.