If it wasn’t for the fact that this was supposed to be just a little test, a one-time deal, she might have let it all go, thrown down the gauntlet—or her clothes—and completely lost herself in him as he kissed her as though she were his greatest fantasy come true. Because there, between the hard wall and his equally hard body, she felt desired. Beautiful.

Wanted.

It staggered her, literally staggered her. For so long she’d been by herself, on her own. Strong, independent, fine, and yet with just one kiss, that unraveled a little bit, and she knew that this man, this one man, was going to shake her to her very core. Which meant that she should step free and—

“Mmm,” he murmured huskily, gliding a hand up and down her back, fingers spread wide as if he wanted, needed, to touch as much of her as possible. His other hand was still tangled in her hair, his big palm cupping her head for the kiss that was quickly becoming the mother of all kisses, hot and wet and deep, and she changed her mind about stepping free. She wanted it to never stop.

Never.

Beneath her fingers, his heart was no longer even close to steady, but thudding in a heavy, erratic beat that matched hers as he dragged his hands over her, cupping her bottom, squeezing as another rough moan of raw need rumbled from his chest. Then his hands went on the move again, heading north, thumbs brushing her ribs, so close to her breasts she caught her breath and wished.

Touch me . . .

Instead, he stopped. Stopped kissing her, stopped moving, just remained utterly still with his mouth on hers, sharing air, his fingers nearly but not quite touching her breasts.

She tried to collect herself and failed. “Huh,” she finally managed.

A low sound escaped him, a half laugh, half groan, and he dropped his hands to her waist, touching his forehead to hers. “Yeah. Huh.”

“That was . . .”

He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. “Unexpected?”

“To say the least.” Her breathing was still ragged, her body still trembling, and all she could think was, he had to go out there and play in front of tens of thousands of fans and she wanted another kiss. His eyes were so dark now, so dark they were almost black, and filled with so much heat she nearly melted on the spot. “So,” she said. “No chemistry, right?”

“Right.”

At his lie, she laughed and dropped her head back so that it thunked against the wall. “This is crazy.”

“Agreed.” He slid one hand up to cup her head again, protecting it from the wall, and it was that, that one little gesture more than anything else he’d done, that told her the truth.

He was sexy, smart, funny, and hot. Very hot.

But he was also kind.

Dammit.