“A good idea,” he murmured, crossing over to the sofa where she sat. “I'm sure I have some on the premises. But I was thinking of something a little different.”

“Different?”

“More intimate.”

She stopped breathing.

He sat next to her. “A kiss, I think, would be appropriate.”

“Oh,” Ellie said quickly and loudly. “That's not necessary.” And just in case he missed her point, she gave her head a broad shake.

He caught her chin in a light but firm grasp. “Au contraire, my wife, I think it is very necessary.”

“I'm not your—”

“You will be.”

She had no argument for that.

“We should make sure that we suit, don't you think?” He leaned closer.

“I'm certain we will. We don't need—”

He halved the distance between them. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?”

“Oh, all the time,” she said, desperate to do anything, say anything to keep him from kissing her. “In fact—”

“And at the most inopportune times, too.” He shook his head in a sweetly scolding manner.

“Well, I don't really have such an ideal sense of timing. Just look at—”

“Hush.”

And he said it with such soft authority that she did. Or perhaps it might have been the smoldering look in his eyes. No one had ever smoldered over Eleanor Lyndon before. It was beyond startling.

His lips brushed against hers, and a sharp tingle shot up and down her spine as his hand moved to her neck. “Oh, my goodness,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “You talk when you kiss, too.”

“Oh.” She looked up anxiously. “I'm not supposed to?”

He started laughing so hard that he had to pull away from her and sit back. “Actually,” he said as soon as he was able, “I find it rather endearing. As long as you're being complimentary.”

“Oh,” she said again.

“Shall we give it another go?” he asked.

Ellie rather thought that she'd used up all of her protests with the previous kiss. Besides, now that she'd tried it once, she was a bit more curious. She gave her head a tiny nod.

His eyes flashed with something very male and possessive, and his mouth touched her lips once again. This kiss was just as gentle as the previous one, but so, so much deeper. His tongue feathered along the line of her lips until she parted them with a sigh. Then he moved in, exploring her mouth with lazy confidence.

Ellie gave herself up to the moment, sinking into his hard frame. He was warm and strong, and there was something thrilling about the way his hands pressed against her back. She felt branded, burned, as if she'd somehow been marked as his.

His passion grew fierce…and scary. Ellie had never kissed a man before, but she could tell that he was an expert at this. She had no idea what to do, and he knew too much, and…She stiffened, suddenly overwhelmed. This wasn't right. She didn't know him, and—