“Adrienne “ he whispered

“Adrienne “ he whispered, and when Adrienne fi-nally met his gaze, she recognized the emotion in his eyes.
He couldn’t say the words,fake louis vuitton bags, but in a rush of intuitive feel-ing, she imagined she could hear them, and that was enough.
Because it was then, as he held her in his unwavering gaze, that she knew she was in love with him as well.
For a long moment, neither one of them seemed to know what to do, until Paul reached for her hand. With a sigh, Adrienne let him take it, leaning back in her chair as his thumb began to trace her skin.
He smiled, waiting for a response, but Adrienne seemed content to remain quiet. He couldn’t read her expression, yet it seemed to hint at everything he was feeling: hope and fear,fake uggs online store, confusion and acceptance, passion and reserve. But thinking she might need space, he let go of her hand and stood,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots.
“Let me put another log on the fire,” he said. “It’s getting low.”
She nodded, watching him through half-closed eyes as he squatted before the fire, the jeans stretching tight around his thighs.
This couldn’t be happening, she told herself. She was forty-five years old, for goodness’ sake, not a teenager. She was mature enough to know that something like this couldn’t be real. This was the product of the storm, the wine, the fact that they were alone. It was any combination of a thousand things, she told herself, but it wasn’t love.
And yet, as she watched Paul add another log and stare quietly into the fireplace, she knew with certainty that it was. The unmistakable look in his eyes, the tremor in his voice as he’d whispered her name . . . she knew his feelings were real. And so, she thought, were hers,shox torch 2.
But what did that mean? For him or her? Knowing that he loved her, as wonderful as it was, wasn’t the only thing going on here. His look had spoken of desire as well, and that had frightened her, even more than knowing he loved her. Making love, she’d always believed, was more than simply a pleasurable act between two people. It encom-passed all that a couple was supposed to share: trust and commitment, hopes and dreams, a promise to make it through whatever the future might bring. She’d never un-derstood one-night stands or people who drifted from one bed to the next every couple of months. It relegated the act to something almost meaningless, no more special than a good-night kiss on the front steps.
Even though they loved each other, she knew every-thing would change if she allowed herself to give in to her feelings. She would cross a boundary she’d erected in her mind, and there was no coming back from something like that. Making love to Paul would mean that they would share a bond for the rest of their lives, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
Nor was she sure she would know what to do. Jack was not only the only man she’d ever been with; for eighteen years, he was the only man she’d wanted to be with. The possibility of sharing herself with another left her feeling anxious. Making love was a gentle dance of give-and-take, and the thought she might disappoint him was almost enough to keep her from letting this go any further.