'This is perfect. This feeling… it's everything.'
Marcus's mind was a whirlwind. He couldn't lie to himself anymore: he hadn't moved on from Anya. Reaching for her, pulling her close; the raw, simple happiness of it was undeniable. And instantly, it was followed by a sickening wave of self-disgust. He felt like a bastard. His own greed, this endless wanting, terrified him.
What surprised him most was that Anya did not pull away. When his fingers tightened around hers and his arm settled firmly around her slim, graceful frame, she gave a brief, startled shiver. For a heartbeat, her body went stiff, as if instinct demanded she resist, but then that tension melted away. She relaxed into him, allowing herself to be held, allowing his arm to draw her closer, until the soft curves of her body rested naturally against his side.
