QUOTE : She handed it to him. His hand closed over hers. He drew her wrist to his mouth and pressed his lips against it. A squeak came from her. She had made that noise. His lips felt hot. He spoke against her skin. “Your hair,” he said, “is a glory. Promise me you will never pin it up again.” The brush of his mouth sent static sparks along her skin. She felt flushed, shivering, light-headed. “I don’t . . . It would be a scandal.” He turned her wrist ever so slightly, finding her pulse with his tongue. Her breath caught. She heard him breathe in deeply. “Then unpin it just for me,” he whispered.