As Delita's lips claimed hers for the first time, the most feminine of sounds hummed briefly in her throat. Warmth unrelated to the sunset spread throughout her, elicited by the one act which confessed their feelings more clearly, loudly than words could possibly hope to express.

With tenderness she responded, the kiss heated yet deliberately slow. So carefree, so honest after who knows how long of overlooking her feelings. The daring hand which had helped conveyance of her want smoothed its way into his dark hair, cupping the back of Delita's head.

Once coherent thought returned, she would swear to herself never to compare past and present. Until then, her lips would speak for themselves.