so, shall we declare a temporary truce—— for the duration of the wedding

Jenna bit her lips. 'It seems there's no alternative'.

Then shall we shake hands on it? Ross walked towards her, Closing the space between them, and she couldn't retreat. He held out his hand, his dark mesmeric, compelling, and smoothed the errant strands of the hair blowing across her face.

For a crazy moment Jenna wondered if he was remembering, as she was, the way he'd used to play with her hair when they were in bed together after love making.

And how she would bury her face in his shoulder, luxuriously inhaling the scent of his skin.....