Ty laughed. “God, you can’t stop your brain, can you? It’s always working things out.”

It struck a chord with her. She knew that sometimes her logic, her need to analyze and assess and study from every angle, was a huge detriment to just enjoying moments in life. It was something she struggled with, constantly being the observer instead of the participant, and it caused a twinge of shame that Ty had seen straight through her to what she considered her one true flaw.

“There’s nothing wrong with using my brain,” she said defensively. “If more people did, maybe we wouldn’t have a society on the brink of a complete breakdown, its social and moral structure decimated. Maybe if women were in charge instead of men, we—”

Imogen squeaked and forgot what she was saying when Ty’s hand slid under her legs and started to lift her up off her seat. “What are you doing?” she asked in a panic, reaching for the steering wheel, off balance in more ways than one.

“Get your sexy ass over here, Beatrice,” he said, dragging her across the gearshift until she was in his lap. “So I can kiss you until you’ve forgotten all your logical arguments why I shouldn’t kiss you.”

“But . . .” She had no idea what she was going to say because her mind went utterly and completely blank. She was sitting on Ty’s lap. His hard thighs were beneath her butt, his strong arms wrapped around her, and his mouth was inches from hers. She could smell him, a mixture of rain and aftershave, see the even whiteness of his teeth in the dark. He had lovely teeth.

And he had called her Beatrice. He had understood the conversation they’d had, given it back as good as she’d given it, even if he had never read Shakespeare.

Did she really want to be Beatrice? Alone, arguably bitter, holding firm to her principles? Or did she want to enjoy the moment? After all, Beatrice had met her match in Benedick in the end.

“Stop thinking,” Ty told her. “Stop worrying, analyzing, debating.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I tried. It worked for a second, then it all started again.”

He shifted her legs so that she was firmly on his lap sideways. His hand settled on her waist, and she was startled by how big it was, how much of the small of her back he covered with his spread fingers.

“I can make it so you can’t think at all.”

“I have no doubt of that,” she agreed.

He made a small sound, almost like a growl, and held her more firmly. “Say no now and I won’t do this,” he said.

Every nerve ending in her body was firing in anticipation and desire. She had the urge to both dig her fingers into his hair and wiggle her backside on his lap. Was she going to say no?

Yeah, right.