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“You are Rion?” she asked. A look of total satisfaction lit his eyes as he nodded once, lowering his mouth to hers. But before their lips touched, he placed his forehead on hers and whispered, “Remember me.” Sudden scenes flashed in Alana’s head, of a man and woman smiling down upon her. She then saw the face of a handsome young boy hovering over her, grinning from ear to ear. The boy touched her face and she trembled, feeling a deep calm wash over her. When she opened her eyes, the man was grinning. “You do remember, Alanacapria. That was the day of our betrothal. You were merely an infant, but you still remember.” Rion’s joy seemed to radiate from him. She didn’t know what it was about him, but he calmed her fear and unease somehow. Unwittingly, her fingers found his hair of their own accord. He smiled at her and she smiled back, willing him to kiss her. As if he’d heard her thoughts, he closed the gap between them, his lips claiming hers. His kiss was gentle, his lips warm. He demanded nothing—he merely kissed her as if they had all the time in the world. Alana was lost in a flurry of sensation. The bed sheets were smooth, almost like silk beneath her skin, and Rion’s weight pushed her farther down into them. She was barely aware that he’d indeed rolled on top of her. His hair was thick and his skin was soft, making Alana wish she could touch every inch of him. When his tongue darted along her lips, she whimpered in response and pulled away to stare into his eyes. They were a deep blue, shining with desire. Alana had never seen that look in a man’s eyes before and it both scared her and excited her. She was a virgin—aside from fooling around in high school—and the thought of having sex with a man she barely knew made her skin crawl. But Rion hardly seemed like a stranger. The vision she’d seen of him as a boy had played out like a memory. Did she truly remember him from her past? As he stroked her face, a movement above Rion’s head caught her eye. Glancing beyond his face, she gasped at what she saw and squealed, pushing on his shoulders, trying to get away. He let her go easily enough, and she crawled out of the bed, not thinking of her nakedness. “What is it, Alana?” he asked in his husky voice, the proof of his desire practically staring her in the face. But she wasn’t looking at that. What she was looking at spread out behind him. “Oh, my God. You have wings!” she exclaimed.
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