One Wore Blue

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Authors: Heather Graham
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mind, don’t answer that,” he told her.
    “I didn’t intend to. My feelings are none of your business,” she snapped quickly.
    “Kiernan, I—” He took a step toward her, then paused. When he stepped toward her again, she was stunned when he suddenly pulled her into his arms, pulled her hard against him. His fingers threaded through her hair at her nape, and she almost protested the pain, except that she could feel his passion. He gazed down at her with intensity. “Kiernan, you don’t understand. The world is going to change, and I’m afraid that I’m going to disappoint you. I wish that I could make you understand.” He stared at her searchingly. “Kiernan!” He shook her slightly. Her head fell back farther, and her eyes met his—not with alarm, but with surprise and curiosity, and with a flame to challenge his words. “Oh, hell!” he whispered. He cupped her chin, and she felt the rough texture of his palm and fingers, his stroke gentleand provocative as he deftly moved his thumb against the softness of her flesh. He lowered his head and kissed her.
    It was like no other kiss she had ever known.
    Anthony had kissed her, brushed his lips against hers. It had been pleasant enough. She had considered the experience with a certain amusement.
    But now she knew that his pleasant touch had been oh, so tepid.
    This was fire—sweet, savage fire. He asked no permission, gave her no chance for the least hesitance. His lips molded over hers, claiming them completely, giving fire and heat and passion and demanding it in return. He kissed her the way no gentleman should ever kiss a lady.
    But Jesse had never pretended to be a gentleman. Not with her.
    And with the moist searing heat of his lips against hers, she wanted to be no lady.
    He pulled her ever closer against him. Her hooped petticoats rose to her rear as her body pressed decadently close to his. His tongue wedged through the barrier of her lips and teeth and delved wickedly into the dark and secret recesses of her mouth. It seemed to enter deeper into the secret chambers of her soul and body. The excitement she had always felt when he was near took soaring flight. Her heart hammered, her limbs felt weak—and the heat was part of her now, urging her to slip her arms around his neck, to taste the kiss, to give way to the sweet, evocative passion.
    Still he kissed her, his tongue playing with hers, his lips commanding, his body so close, so tight. She could feel so many raw, exhilarating sensations, the shape and form of him, the feel of his clothing, the heat and desire that lay beneath it. She could feel herself molding the length of his form. Longings that were reckless and wild crept into her mind and heart, winding throughout her like a serpent—the serpent that had brought Adam and Eve to the brink of damnation in Eden.
    Jesse …
    His lips were coercive, moving against hers, molding them so hotly. His tongue flicked here and there.
    Ah, if this was damnation, let the fires begin! She would gladly have abandoned all for him. She would have walked naked with him into a field of green grass and flowers and lain down beside him.…
    He broke the kiss at last, just lifting his lips from hers. The warmth of his breath stirred an even deeper quivering within her as his whisper touched her. “If he can’t kiss you like this, Kiernan, don’t marry him.”
    “What?” she demanded sharply. Furious, she tried to pull away. She raised a hand to strike him, but he caught it, and his laughter, husky and rich, rang out.
    “If he can’t kiss you like that, sweetheart, don’t marry him.”
    “Bastard!” she charged him, struggling to be free.
    But he pulled her tight once again. “Hold out for the best there is, Kiernan. You should have it. Make sure that there’s fire. Maybe there’ll be ice, too, but hold out for the extremes, for the best, the brightest. Don’t accept anything lukewarm. Because you’re fire and ice, and you’re the brightest and the

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