for the shadow of a morning beard. Simon Kendrick appeared to be in discustinely stood shane. Not at all as if he had spent the night on a too-short couch. Perhaps he was accustomed to spending nights in places other than his own bed, she thought sarcastically. He was still wearing the slacks from last evening but the coat had been discarded and one sleeve of the white shirt rolled to the elbow in preparation for kitchen duties. The silver hook extended with a quiet authority from the other sleeve. He didn't seem to be so concerned with keeping it out of sight this morning, Kirsten realized fleetingly, and briefly wondered why. It was as if he had reached the conclusion that it didn't bother her.
"After that stunt last night, I'm not sure anything could get you a gold star. Maybe a medal of honor for managing to find the coffee making? in this mess, but not the gold star!" she announced decisively.
"I'll take a good-morn;ng kiss, instead," he said softly, and before she knew what was happening he detached himself from the refrigerator and. taking one large stride forward, folded her into his huge embrace. Kirsten felt like a butterfly being trapped in a net.
"No!" she managed to get out and then his mouth was covering hers in a kiss that began as a huge, gentle, questing thing but abruptly exploded into a persuasive, sensuous, passionate demand unlike anything she had ever known. For a long moment Kirsten felt quite stifled with astonishment and then she begun to lose herself in Simon's arms. Her lips were irresistibly forced apart until the warmth of his mouth made her moan slightly. With a floundering, drowning feeling she made an effort to push him away her hands ___ against his massive chest. He seemed totally unaware of her efforts, merely pulling her closer as if he would taste all of her there in the morning sunlight. Kirsten wasn't even conscious of the moment when her arms gave up the struggle and wrapped themselves around his waist.
Her response seamed to mirror a deeper need in him and even as she felt herself molded more closely against the toughness that was Simon, the quality of his kiss deepened yet again in a dizzying plunging way that was frightening. The fear brought her back to reality.
"Simon, no! Please let me go!" she begged as his lips freed her mouth to attend to her throat.
"Don't ask me to stop, Kirsten," he whispered in a low, husky voice which seemed to come from deep in his chest. "I want you so badly…"
"You want me!" she snarled, suddenly pulling her hands back to place them flat against his chest again. "That's supposed to be enough, is it? The fact that you want me? Well, it isn't! Not nearly enough!" Kirsten pushed with all her strength and couldn't budge him. But she had his attention now. Simon lifted his head to gaze down into her angry face and she saw some of the passion fade from the hazel eyes to be replaced by a softer expression.
"Why are you so afraid? I promise I'll make you want me, too, It won't be all one-sided, honey." He ignored her pushing hands as if they weren't there, his tones deliberately soothing, which further irritated Kirsten. "You can relax and enjoy the relationship. I would never hurt you."
"Don't talk to me about 'relationships'! I'm not in the mood for the kind of relationship you have in mind and I never will be! When I fall in love it will be with a kind, gentle,small man who can't pick me up with one hand! One who won't try to rush me into a whirlwind 'relationship'! Is that understood?" She met his steady look determinedly, wishing desperately she hadn't just used the word love and willing him to ignore that phrase.
"Let me get all this straight," he said carefully, but not angrily. Nor did he release Kirsten while he ran through his logic. "You aren't interested in a relationship based only on, let's call it 'physical need,' shall we? And you want a man your own size." The hard lines around his mouth relaxed in a tiny smile. Kirsten refused to