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They called to me, beseeching me to let go of the fears that held me, offering me a sanctuary. His arms, when closed about me, lulled me to peace. I was shown both heaven and hell in his embrace. Everything I had ever sought was right here. Here, in the arms and eyes and mind of a poet. His soul called to me, soothing all that had been by nothing more than sheer existance. ‘Can’t seem to stop touching you,’ he murmured, skimming his fingers over my skin. Silk and lace, satin and steel. And I thank the powers that be for this crisis, because his touch, the compulsion within him that drives his hands to my body again and again is my salvation. It seems there was no breath, no heart beat before his heat, nor would there be after. I meet his gaze again and again, his brooding eyes startling in their clarity. And I tell him, ‘This can’t be. Won’t be.’ And he shudders. More fool are we. We blame the pull, the completeness, on desperation. Loneliness. The moon, the tide, anything. Anything. “Please, call me Felicia,” she said, smiling stunningly and ushering me into the house. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. I’d wanted to invite you from the beginning, of course, but your father said you weren’t ready. As soon as he changed his mind, I had to have you here. Of course, Mandy will be thrilled to see you. Do you need a mask before you meet the birthday girl?”“A mask,” I said, a bit lamely, not quite knowing what to make of anything she said. The entryway table had several neat rows of zorro-style face coverings.“For the cameras, you know. They’ll be filming whenever Mandy is in the room, and perhaps some of the other activities. Our distribution is quite secure, of course, but some of us prefer not to risk it. But surely William filled you in?”“It’s a surprise. You’ll like it. Trust me.”Felicia laughed throatily at my imitation of my father’s smooth, deep voice.“He would, wouldn’t he?” She grasped my upper arm with both hands, almost flirtatiously. “Oh,.
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