The cold mountain wind continued to sweep fiercely around them, rustling the high pine canopy, but neither of them moved.

Kritika remained completely buried against Vedant's broad chest, her slender fingers clutching his heavy wool blazer tightly, as if letting go would somehow force her to face the staggering reality of what had just happened. Her cheeks were still burning with a deep, unmistakable heat, her heartbeat was still wildly uneven, and every single time her mind replayed the intoxicating feel of his lips against hers, another intense wave of warmth rushed through her entire body.