Her lips quivered with a smile, but she ruthlessly repressed it. “I don’t believe it is possible to think too much.”

“Hm. Would you care to put that statement to a test?”

Her wariness grew. “What kind of test?”

“We try a kiss while you are thinking…” He lowered his mouth to her cheek and whispered, “And a kiss while you are not.”

Her skin was not the creamy white of most debutantes, but a luminous pink. He brushed his fingertips along the line of her cheek. “Sometimes, thoughts can stop us from experiencing the moment we’re in. They can block feeling, emotion, energy, even pleasure.”

“All by thinking?”

“All by thinking.”

“I’m surprised anyone bothers to think at all, then,” she said in a slightly acid tone, though her lashes fluttered on her cheeks.

He smiled. If he merely listened to her words, he’d quit this seduction now, before it had really begun. But though she stoutly refused to give in to his verbal blandishments, she was not immune to him physically. If he could just show her that they were meant to touch, meant to be together. Not forever of course, but for this moment. “Well? Care to test your theory?”

She shrugged. “I suppose we might as well. We can’t leave until this rain quits.” She leaned back against his arm. “Go ahead, kiss me.”

He started to lower his mouth to hers, but then stopped. “Is this the thinking kiss or the nonthinking kiss?”

“I am not going to tell you. I don’t want you using any tricks to win your point.”

“Very well. But you have to be honest with me about which kiss was which.”

“You’ll trust me?”

“With my soul.”

Her face pinkened.

He didn’t give her time to think that through. He tipped her face to him and kissed her. He put into the kiss all his longings, all his desires. Everything.

She was limp in his arms when he finished. The blanket had slipped and she was panting heavily, drawing his gaze once again to her nearly visible breasts.

“Ready for the next one?”

She held out a hand. “No. I’ve already proven my point. That was the thinking kiss and I was reciting the names of all the kings and queens of Scotland all the while. I never made it past the twelfth century.” She pressed a hand to her throat. “Thinking most definitely does not interfere with feeling.”

He had to laugh. “I think you need the next kiss, too. Just to make certain.”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and he could see she was wavering. “Just one more kiss.” He bent toward her, his lips a whisper away.

“I can’t,” she gasped, pulling away. “No more, please.” She looked at him, her green eyes sparkling with sudden tears. “I beg of you,” she whispered. “No more.”

Devon loosened his hold. “Kat, I don’t understand—”