"Is this how you were taken?" he asked her quietly, wondering if that's what she'd been wearing when she'd been kidnapped or if their captors had give... her the kind of clothes they liked seeing her in. But she didn't understand, and barely registered the weight of his question. Meanwhile, the old woman's voice kept droning on like a lullaby.The man finally lay back, resting his head in the sand. His hair was straight and almost long, not much darker than the grains he was using for a pillow. He. She breathed in an aroma reminiscent of French wine celars, timeless and delicious. She lingered in that moment before slowly moving her lips towards his. There comes a point where the physical magnetism tends to take over, allowing the poles to snap together as nature intended. This was one of those moments. She felt his smirk of satisfaction give way to the cool tingle of an anticipation mint with a hint of cognac from earlierWith her left hand still anchored on his scarf, the other on his. More

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