*Saoirse*
Rhys held me in a way that implied he never wanted to let me go. He continued to stroke the skin of my cheeks with his long fingers. It was almost as if he was assuring himself that I was alive and well. My eyes had fallen shut again. I was completely addicted to the feeling of his sure hands against me.
A swell of muffled laughter had both our heads whipping to the side. The reception was becoming more rowdy. While no one was looking in the direction of the garden, I could feel the tension rising within both of us as we were reminded of where we were and the predicament I found myself in.
Rhys' face fell for a moment, and he dropped his hands from my face. His eyes darkened as he gazed at the part through the thick glass doors before he met my gaze, his eyes impossibly bright
