When they pull away, both breathless, his hand slips into her, squeezing in encouragement. Her hues meet his, and all have fallen back into place. The man in the newspapers is the man tightening his grip on her hand. His walls are up, which was only going to make the dinner harder.His eyes are sharp, deadly even. Hard as ice, and his features have been sculpted effortlessly. In front of her is a sinful desire.