Anne's shoulders tensed under the thick yarn Trenton's fingers pressed down into her skin, and the moment the kiss became something more than a soft yielding of butterfly lips, Anne pulled back. The separation was jarring, almost a tearing of something she hadn't known was put together, and she recoiled from the damage even as she made it. She was trembling in answer to his silent question, whatever it was, but within she felt an emptiness. she had already given someone else what he was asking for. Her fingers crept up and pressed, disbelieving, against her traitorous lips. What just happened?