Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Jessica's face had turned pale, her gentle eyes frozen in a moment of shock.

Timothy's tenderness poured over her like a wash of moonlight-so overwhelming, she felt as if she might drown in it.

A deep, gnawing fear rose inside her.

She was terrified of falling for him again.

Hidden beneath the silk comforter, her hand clenched into a tight fist, fingernails

digging into her palm for a sharp sting that helped anchor her in reality.

She pressed her lips together and turned her delicate face slightly away.

She wanted nothing from him-not even his kindness.

Timothy, unusually patient tonight, spoke in a low, velvety voice. "Don't want me to feed you like this?"

She didn't quite understand what he meant.

No matter how much she hurt, she didn't want to accept his help—not even a cup of hot tea from his hands.

All she wanted was to draw a clear line between them, the sooner the better.

remained silent, Timothy's long, elegant fingers reached out and gently

a sip of hot tea, then leaned in his strikingly handsome features filling her vision-pressed his lips to hers, and held her

the

him away, her face twisting with surprise and

let go not until she'd swallowed every drop of tea he'd

from the heat-or maybe from

almond eyes shimmered, wide and wet, as she stared up at the impossibly beautiful face

fingertip, he gently wiped the last trace of ginger tea from the corner of

like this," he

again, catching Jessica off guard. She didn't even have time to

sweet with a bitter edge-bitterness

happiness and heartbreak Timothy had given

couldn't help but wonder: if he had always shown her this tenderness, would she have drowned in

heat of his hand, creating a rush of comfort that pushed away the pain and left

soft murmur. "Drink up, sweetheart. Henry wants to go to the

had happened between them, this moment might have been picture-perfect—a happy little

but a beautiful illusion,