He pushed her back into the hallway. As the door swung shut, he pushed her against the wall separating the hall from the factory, dropped his cane and took her into his arms.

Teresa shifted closer to him, clinging to him, unleashing her pent-up hunger for him. His lips at her temple, on her eyes, then upon her mouth, were warm, demanding. No longer was her kiss like the kiss on the rooftop, young, innocent. Passion seized her. The electric sewing machines' pulsing on the wall ran through her, intensifying her heart's throbbing. Her feelings grew more intense, surging through her body. She wanted desperately to welcome him into her body, but a small inner voice brought her back to her senses.

Teresa pushed him away, trying to regain control. "I. . . I. . . my breath."

"I know," his voice was thick with emotion, too. "Isn't it wonderful?" For a moment, he thought his legs were going to buckle under him. He took a deep breath, trying to ease his pounding heart, and leaned back against the wall. He held her hands. "Your hands are so beautiful." He kissed her palms, failing to notice the two-carat diamond ring on her finger.

She smiled through her tears. "That lock still refuses to stay in place." She pushed it back. "You look so good to me."

"Have you any idea how good you look to me?"

Change the subject or I'll give myself to him right here.