She answered him at first, letting the moment sweep her, but as his kiss deepened, she broke away, breath uneven. Taking a small step back, she steadied herself.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was softer now, but the concern in his eyes was sharp—like a man reading a market shift before it crashes.

“I need a drink,” she said quietly. “Can we go back to the table for a while?”

“Of course.” The words carried no argument, only a measured calm. He took her hand again—not ...