Ashiana… has no one ever told you?” He reached out to tilt her chin up, his touch as gentle as his voice. “I am not teasing when I call you sundar. Your eyes are the color of ocean waves in the morning sun. Your skin is like the silk the Hindus call ‘the white of the clouds when the rain is spent.’ And the rest of you…” His voice deepened. “… is delicate and feminine and perfect.
-Shelly Thacker
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