bands.”
He stiffened slightly, as if her answer hadn’t pleased him, and shortly after that they headed down the stairway to end the afternoon’s excursion. They were almost the last ones out of the museum, and it was nearing six-thirty when they reached the entrance doors.
Brian paused in the marble porch, and turned an unsuspecting Leigh to face him with both hands on her shoulders. “Shall we finish listing all the rules, Red?”
Like the brush of a feather, his lips came down on hers, soft and sure. It was over almost before it happened, leaving a familiar yet elusive taste on her lips. “A kiss for company,” he explained sardonically. “It will seem pretty damn odd if we don’t, on occasion.”
Suddenly, his lips descended again, with only slightly more pressure. The taste, she discovered, was the lingering flavor of a mint he’d eaten earlier, and hinted at the taste of the man himself, a smooth, warm masculine flavor. But it was the feel of his hands on her shoulders that began the long, low shiver inside. Rules—his rules: the power of his hands…the way his black eyes stared intently down at her when his head bent back.
She knew the flicker of panic she felt must be reflected on her face, for a perplexed look came into his eyes. “A Christmasy sort of kiss,” he explained, “for the holidays, when people are surrounding you and the presents are being handed out. That’s an acceptable version, don’t you think?”
No, she didn’t think. Anything. A sudden, disquieting warmth was flooding her veins—as if she had just drunk a snifter of brandy.
“We’d better get all the rules out of the way, Red.” The smile was deliberately teasing as he raised her limp arms and placed them around his neck, tucking his own behind her back. His next kiss forced her lips helplessly apart. Like a series of shocks, she felt the thick, heavy texture of his hair in her fingers, the graze of his thighs against her own, the touch of his splayed fingers at the small of her back. His mouth covered hers so completely that she had to breathe with him; she had to inhale that taste, that bittersweet flavor of possession. It was an assault on her senses of the gentlest kind, but an assault nonetheless. Fear and dread started to rise in her, but had no chance to surface before he pulled back, staring at her with a grave, puzzled expression. His eyes were like black fire, as if he’d found something he hadn’t expected. That she was snow? Ice? “There are always those few souls left who believe in love, aren’t there, Red?” he asked wryly. “My mother is a strong holdout for love and marriage. She’ll need some convincing.”
“Fine,” she said faintly. Her knees felt wobbly, and it was going to take all the effort she could muster to just walk away without him knowing how she really felt. But at least it was done, and she hadn’t fled. Yet the teasing light was completely gone from his eyes as he insistently reached for her again.
Altering her balance, he pressed her whole body deliberately to the length of him, far too expertly enclosing her before she could slip away. Her breasts were crushed against the soft velour of his shirt, and she could feel his heartbeat marking time with her own. His right hand traveled up her back, blazing a trail of sensual pressure as his left hand cradled her head. His mouth dipped down. He tasted her frantic little “no” his tongue touched hers, very gently; and his fingers tangled in her hair, preventing her from breaking away. His lips lifted long enough to brush her eyes closed, and then came back to her mouth again, this time not gentle at all, but hard and hungry and starkly sexual in intent. His hips cradled hers. With a shock of sheer horror she realized he was not as immune to her sexually as she’d thought, that he was inviting her to…
The fear surfaced and exploded; her whole body suddenly trembled violently and she struggled to break away. He allowed their
He stiffened slightly, as if her answer hadn’t pleased him, and shortly after that they headed down the stairway to end the afternoon’s excursion. They were almost the last ones out of the museum, and it was nearing six-thirty when they reached the entrance doors.
Brian paused in the marble porch, and turned an unsuspecting Leigh to face him with both hands on her shoulders. “Shall we finish listing all the rules, Red?”
Like the brush of a feather, his lips came down on hers, soft and sure. It was over almost before it happened, leaving a familiar yet elusive taste on her lips. “A kiss for company,” he explained sardonically. “It will seem pretty damn odd if we don’t, on occasion.”
Suddenly, his lips descended again, with only slightly more pressure. The taste, she discovered, was the lingering flavor of a mint he’d eaten earlier, and hinted at the taste of the man himself, a smooth, warm masculine flavor. But it was the feel of his hands on her shoulders that began the long, low shiver inside. Rules—his rules: the power of his hands…the way his black eyes stared intently down at her when his head bent back.
She knew the flicker of panic she felt must be reflected on her face, for a perplexed look came into his eyes. “A Christmasy sort of kiss,” he explained, “for the holidays, when people are surrounding you and the presents are being handed out. That’s an acceptable version, don’t you think?”
No, she didn’t think. Anything. A sudden, disquieting warmth was flooding her veins—as if she had just drunk a snifter of brandy.
“We’d better get all the rules out of the way, Red.” The smile was deliberately teasing as he raised her limp arms and placed them around his neck, tucking his own behind her back. His next kiss forced her lips helplessly apart. Like a series of shocks, she felt the thick, heavy texture of his hair in her fingers, the graze of his thighs against her own, the touch of his splayed fingers at the small of her back. His mouth covered hers so completely that she had to breathe with him; she had to inhale that taste, that bittersweet flavor of possession. It was an assault on her senses of the gentlest kind, but an assault nonetheless. Fear and dread started to rise in her, but had no chance to surface before he pulled back, staring at her with a grave, puzzled expression. His eyes were like black fire, as if he’d found something he hadn’t expected. That she was snow? Ice? “There are always those few souls left who believe in love, aren’t there, Red?” he asked wryly. “My mother is a strong holdout for love and marriage. She’ll need some convincing.”
“Fine,” she said faintly. Her knees felt wobbly, and it was going to take all the effort she could muster to just walk away without him knowing how she really felt. But at least it was done, and she hadn’t fled. Yet the teasing light was completely gone from his eyes as he insistently reached for her again.
Altering her balance, he pressed her whole body deliberately to the length of him, far too expertly enclosing her before she could slip away. Her breasts were crushed against the soft velour of his shirt, and she could feel his heartbeat marking time with her own. His right hand traveled up her back, blazing a trail of sensual pressure as his left hand cradled her head. His mouth dipped down. He tasted her frantic little “no” his tongue touched hers, very gently; and his fingers tangled in her hair, preventing her from breaking away. His lips lifted long enough to brush her eyes closed, and then came back to her mouth again, this time not gentle at all, but hard and hungry and starkly sexual in intent. His hips cradled hers. With a shock of sheer horror she realized he was not as immune to her sexually as she’d thought, that he was inviting her to…
The fear surfaced and exploded; her whole body suddenly trembled violently and she struggled to break away. He allowed their
Similar Books
