"You are," Adam murmured as he turned to face him, his hands moving up to push his coat off of her shoulders, letting it tumble to the floor behind her before gently raising his hand to cup her face, his thumb resting lightly on her chin as he leaned forward, repeating his words just before his lips met hers. "You are."
Since Theresa, it had been a long time since Adam had allowed himself to be this close to a woman. Their treacherousness had been ingrained in his consciousness since he had come to in the cold ocean after being shot in the chest and dumped over a cliff by a woman that he had loved with all of his heart and soul. But Angela was different. She was a true spirit. Someone that he felt he could trust.
Sure, she was cheating on her husband right now, but he was a man who deserved to have himself subjected to this. He didn't appreciate her for who she was, and that, as far as Adam could see it, was an unforgivable crime. What Angela was doing was not. It was grasping onto something (or someone) who would allow her to option of retaining her soul and herself while being quietly crushed by the man she was tied down to.
She deserved better than what Arthur was giving her.