anything he had ever experienced before.
Her lips at first remained tight and lifeless. As if she didn’t know what to do. As if she truly hadn’t expected him to kiss her. But as his mouth moved against hers she softened and accepted—almost welcomed—his assault.
At the first pressure of his mouth, she pressed her fisted hands against his chest, pushing him away. Finally, with a tiny moan and a sigh of resignation, she opened her clenched fists. Then, she touched him—tentatively at first, then with a much greater strength.
He drew his fingers through her hair, loosening the pins and letting her lustrous brown tresses fall to her waist. He tipped her head to the side to gain easier access to her mouth and tasted her hungrily.
Bloody hell. He couldn’t get enough of her.
This was not supposed to happen.
He wrapped one arm around her back and held her tight. With his other hand, he cupped her cheek. Her skin was soft and smooth, like never-worn velvet. Again and again he drank from her sweetness. Sipping and tasting and relishing the feel of her against him. He needed to have more of her.
With slow deliberation, he moved his thumb along her jaw, stopping just beneath her bottom lip. He applied the slightest pressure, and she opened to him as if she’d waited a lifetime for him to discover her.
His tongue entered her honey-warmed cavern, searching for the treasure hidden there. She stiffened in his arms and pulled away, her small hands pushing against his shoulders.
He couldn’t allow them to be separated and cradled the back of her head to hold her close. She muttered a quiet moan and pushed her fists against his chest once, twice, then stopped.
Heaven help him.
He found the treasure he’d been searching for. His tongue met hers. Touched. Withdrew. Touched again.
Her hands grabbed bits of his flesh along with the fabric of his shirt. He was in pain. But it was not from the grasp she had on his skin. His pain was a thousand times more consuming.
Trying to control a desperation that defied understanding, he lifted his mouth and stared into her eyes. They were glazed with emotion.
“Who are you?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and raspy. “Why are you doing this to me?” He took two gasping breaths of air before he covered her mouth again. He did not want to leave her.
He ground his mouth against hers, drinking deeply, sharing with her. Taking from her. And she did not deny him.
With each kiss, she gave more of herself. She wrapped her slender arms around his neck and held on with a fierceness that defied explanation. She opened to him and moved with him and asked more of him than he thought he had left to give.
With each kiss, he lost more of his self-control. More of the sturdy defenses he’d built to protect himself from emotions as strong as this.
Bloody hell. This was not supposed to happen.
A warning bell went off in his brain, exposing the lies and betrayal and deceit he’d experienced at the hands of a woman. A woman who had used him for her own gain. Just as this woman wanted to use him for her own gain.
Simon growled an agonizing moan and lifted his mouth from hers. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His chest burned like someone had branded him with a hot poker and left the fiery tip inside to sear his heart. He opened his mouth as he struggled to take in huge gulps of air. He braved a look at the girl and saw only confusion.
This was all an act. It had to be.
He tried to push her away from him, but her knees buckled, forcing him to hold on to her until she regained her composure.
She gasped for air while her eyes darted from one side of his shoulders to the other, as if she was too frightened to face him. She looked as scared as a snared rabbit in a poacher’s trap. Every inch of her body trembled in his arms.
“You still want to become my wife?” he said, tilting her face to look at him.
She didn’t answer. Her look told him she realized she needed protection from
Her lips at first remained tight and lifeless. As if she didn’t know what to do. As if she truly hadn’t expected him to kiss her. But as his mouth moved against hers she softened and accepted—almost welcomed—his assault.
At the first pressure of his mouth, she pressed her fisted hands against his chest, pushing him away. Finally, with a tiny moan and a sigh of resignation, she opened her clenched fists. Then, she touched him—tentatively at first, then with a much greater strength.
He drew his fingers through her hair, loosening the pins and letting her lustrous brown tresses fall to her waist. He tipped her head to the side to gain easier access to her mouth and tasted her hungrily.
Bloody hell. He couldn’t get enough of her.
This was not supposed to happen.
He wrapped one arm around her back and held her tight. With his other hand, he cupped her cheek. Her skin was soft and smooth, like never-worn velvet. Again and again he drank from her sweetness. Sipping and tasting and relishing the feel of her against him. He needed to have more of her.
With slow deliberation, he moved his thumb along her jaw, stopping just beneath her bottom lip. He applied the slightest pressure, and she opened to him as if she’d waited a lifetime for him to discover her.
His tongue entered her honey-warmed cavern, searching for the treasure hidden there. She stiffened in his arms and pulled away, her small hands pushing against his shoulders.
He couldn’t allow them to be separated and cradled the back of her head to hold her close. She muttered a quiet moan and pushed her fists against his chest once, twice, then stopped.
Heaven help him.
He found the treasure he’d been searching for. His tongue met hers. Touched. Withdrew. Touched again.
Her hands grabbed bits of his flesh along with the fabric of his shirt. He was in pain. But it was not from the grasp she had on his skin. His pain was a thousand times more consuming.
Trying to control a desperation that defied understanding, he lifted his mouth and stared into her eyes. They were glazed with emotion.
“Who are you?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and raspy. “Why are you doing this to me?” He took two gasping breaths of air before he covered her mouth again. He did not want to leave her.
He ground his mouth against hers, drinking deeply, sharing with her. Taking from her. And she did not deny him.
With each kiss, she gave more of herself. She wrapped her slender arms around his neck and held on with a fierceness that defied explanation. She opened to him and moved with him and asked more of him than he thought he had left to give.
With each kiss, he lost more of his self-control. More of the sturdy defenses he’d built to protect himself from emotions as strong as this.
Bloody hell. This was not supposed to happen.
A warning bell went off in his brain, exposing the lies and betrayal and deceit he’d experienced at the hands of a woman. A woman who had used him for her own gain. Just as this woman wanted to use him for her own gain.
Simon growled an agonizing moan and lifted his mouth from hers. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His chest burned like someone had branded him with a hot poker and left the fiery tip inside to sear his heart. He opened his mouth as he struggled to take in huge gulps of air. He braved a look at the girl and saw only confusion.
This was all an act. It had to be.
He tried to push her away from him, but her knees buckled, forcing him to hold on to her until she regained her composure.
She gasped for air while her eyes darted from one side of his shoulders to the other, as if she was too frightened to face him. She looked as scared as a snared rabbit in a poacher’s trap. Every inch of her body trembled in his arms.
“You still want to become my wife?” he said, tilting her face to look at him.
She didn’t answer. Her look told him she realized she needed protection from
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