taking her eyes from his. “No, Jedidiah. You see yourself through harsh eyes. I don’t.”
“Oh, gal, you’re sweet talkin’ me for this island’s sake.”
“No.” Her eyes shamed him with their rebuke. “I don’t play flattery games. I don’t know how.”
Jed lifted his chin proudly. “I don’t know how either.”
“Then believe me. I see the beauty in you, Jedidiah.”
Jed did the only thing a man in love-at-first-sight could do, given such encouragement in such a romantic setting. Lost in her serious eyes, lost in the flowerlike scent of her body and her gentle insistence that he was beautiful, he leaned forward and settled a kiss on her startled mouth.
Four
The warm, firm feel of his lips pressing tightly to hers was a foreign sensation that stunned her. Thena kept her mouth clamped shut, and she knew—or at least she thought—that she wasn’t kissing him back. But she felt herself succumbing. Perhaps she was Tasoneela, reborn under another identity to fall in love with a reborn Gable Boisfeuillet who came to her in the guise of this weathered horseman.
She came to her senses and started to move away. Jed’s hand rose to her cheek and his callused fingers touched her skin almost reverently. Despite his aura of implacable calm, his fingers trembled. A puzzling sense of pleasure filled Thena as she realized that he was trying to calm her, that he was telling her that he meant her no harm. She wanted to trust this Wyoming pirate. She wanted to keep kissing him.
Rational thought left her as the skillful movement of his mouth sent shivers down her spine. A mixture of surprise and confusion made her heart race wildly. Thena had no idea a man’s kiss could be this overwhelming. None of the prim lip contact that passed for kissing in the old movies she rented had prepared her for the hot, liquid feeling that threatened to burn her from the inside out. She pursed her lips against Jed’s tentatively, and he encouraged her response by moving his mouth over hers in a capricious series of caresses.
Her mind blank, her eyes squinted shut, she ducked her head to escape the intriguing smell and taste of him. For a second her mouth was free, and she gasped for breath. Her voice came out crisp and rebuking. “The aggressive male tendency to dominate is a sign of—”
“Pure friendliness,” he drawled softly. “I’m not tryin’ to dominate you, I’m tryin’ to kiss you.”
Thena’s head jerked up at the teasing sound of his voice. She met his hazel eyes and found them darkened by sexual urgency. This cowboy knew how to look at a woman with disarmingly honest need, she thought dimly. He was just a lusty, basic example of mating capabilities—and she was going to sit very still and let him kiss her again.
Which he did, and this time his tongue slipped forward and nudged the center of her lips provocatively. What did he want? she puzzled. Thena’s hands, clenched in her lap, jumped with alarm as she understood. French kissing. She’d read about it in the sex manuals she’d bought when she was trying to unravel the secrets of Nate’s resistance.
Oh, no, she didn’t know how to kiss like that, and she wasn’t going to make it obvious. Part of her simply didn’t intend for this laconic Lothario to be amused at her clumsiness, and part of her ached with humiliation, knowing that she didn’t have the skill to give him the pleasure he sought.
Thena scooted away from him, her chest heaving with sudden anger. His fingers trailed away from her face and hung in the air for a moment, as if reaching for her. He frowned mildly, looking concerned by her sudden change of heart.
“I didn’t bring you here to … to spoon with you,” she said firmly.
“Spoon with me?” His mouth widened in a flat smile at the archaic term. “Spoon?”
Thena’s face flushed with embarrassment. It was a word she’d heard Jimmy Stewart use in
The Glenn
Miller Story
a few nights earlier on TV. Cloistered here on
“Oh, gal, you’re sweet talkin’ me for this island’s sake.”
“No.” Her eyes shamed him with their rebuke. “I don’t play flattery games. I don’t know how.”
Jed lifted his chin proudly. “I don’t know how either.”
“Then believe me. I see the beauty in you, Jedidiah.”
Jed did the only thing a man in love-at-first-sight could do, given such encouragement in such a romantic setting. Lost in her serious eyes, lost in the flowerlike scent of her body and her gentle insistence that he was beautiful, he leaned forward and settled a kiss on her startled mouth.
Four
The warm, firm feel of his lips pressing tightly to hers was a foreign sensation that stunned her. Thena kept her mouth clamped shut, and she knew—or at least she thought—that she wasn’t kissing him back. But she felt herself succumbing. Perhaps she was Tasoneela, reborn under another identity to fall in love with a reborn Gable Boisfeuillet who came to her in the guise of this weathered horseman.
She came to her senses and started to move away. Jed’s hand rose to her cheek and his callused fingers touched her skin almost reverently. Despite his aura of implacable calm, his fingers trembled. A puzzling sense of pleasure filled Thena as she realized that he was trying to calm her, that he was telling her that he meant her no harm. She wanted to trust this Wyoming pirate. She wanted to keep kissing him.
Rational thought left her as the skillful movement of his mouth sent shivers down her spine. A mixture of surprise and confusion made her heart race wildly. Thena had no idea a man’s kiss could be this overwhelming. None of the prim lip contact that passed for kissing in the old movies she rented had prepared her for the hot, liquid feeling that threatened to burn her from the inside out. She pursed her lips against Jed’s tentatively, and he encouraged her response by moving his mouth over hers in a capricious series of caresses.
Her mind blank, her eyes squinted shut, she ducked her head to escape the intriguing smell and taste of him. For a second her mouth was free, and she gasped for breath. Her voice came out crisp and rebuking. “The aggressive male tendency to dominate is a sign of—”
“Pure friendliness,” he drawled softly. “I’m not tryin’ to dominate you, I’m tryin’ to kiss you.”
Thena’s head jerked up at the teasing sound of his voice. She met his hazel eyes and found them darkened by sexual urgency. This cowboy knew how to look at a woman with disarmingly honest need, she thought dimly. He was just a lusty, basic example of mating capabilities—and she was going to sit very still and let him kiss her again.
Which he did, and this time his tongue slipped forward and nudged the center of her lips provocatively. What did he want? she puzzled. Thena’s hands, clenched in her lap, jumped with alarm as she understood. French kissing. She’d read about it in the sex manuals she’d bought when she was trying to unravel the secrets of Nate’s resistance.
Oh, no, she didn’t know how to kiss like that, and she wasn’t going to make it obvious. Part of her simply didn’t intend for this laconic Lothario to be amused at her clumsiness, and part of her ached with humiliation, knowing that she didn’t have the skill to give him the pleasure he sought.
Thena scooted away from him, her chest heaving with sudden anger. His fingers trailed away from her face and hung in the air for a moment, as if reaching for her. He frowned mildly, looking concerned by her sudden change of heart.
“I didn’t bring you here to … to spoon with you,” she said firmly.
“Spoon with me?” His mouth widened in a flat smile at the archaic term. “Spoon?”
Thena’s face flushed with embarrassment. It was a word she’d heard Jimmy Stewart use in
The Glenn
Miller Story
a few nights earlier on TV. Cloistered here on
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