Her education in the art of kissing was poor. Her time grew short and so she pulled away ever so slightly and said, “But I would want more from a man I cared for. “Like one gives a child.” Or a brother.īeneath her fingertips, he went still as death. “Shall I kiss you on the cheek?”Īccepting his feeble answer, she put her lips to his nose. She sought purchase with her fingers going round his upper arms. And in regard to him, she’d always been a woman of desire. For if anything, she was a woman of action. One she’d waited for nearly half her life.
She heard it as a warning, but took it as an appeal. And she slanted her head to one side, her gaze fastened on his, her mouth a heartbeat away from his. She lifted on her toes, for he was so tall. Instead, he stood immobile as she stepped against him. Because he blinked and yet he did not pull away, she had the control. She was a fool to ask.īut in her curiosity, she knew power. “How would you kiss a woman you loved?” Oh, yes.
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