He curled his arm behind her, drew her to him. “Ariadne.” His voice, like the warm south wind, rushed through her.
“What did you call me?” Looking into his eyes, she could almost hear her blood pulsing, like drumbeats, insistent, beating faster and faster. A memory fought for recognition in her consciousness, then died away as his lips met hers, igniting a heat like a bonfire between them. She held his head and kissed him as if she were drowning.
A bonfire. An image flashed in her head – dancing with Jon on a beach, then leading him to their room. Their wedding night.
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