She tried to give an easy shrug. “I mean, I’m just telling you what the duke would have done...but yeah.”

John straightened up to full height. “Gotcha, so I put the cart before the horse?”

“Kind of.”

He nodded again. “Like I said, I’m new to sordid affairs. But I don’t think I’m going to kiss you right now.”

Victoria hoped she hid her disappointment well enough because the trap door beneath her heart swung open, spilling its contents downward. “No?”

He shook his head. “No, Dr. Reese. I realize my mouth ran away from me, but I can’t go kissing women in the stacks. You’d have to meet me halfway.”

Her heart pulled itself back up her chest as she parsed his words for meaning. “Halfway?”

“If you’re interested in something remotely impulsive, you’re free to kiss me. If not, we’ll go back to shelving and I’ll keep my books to myself.”

Impulsive? He didn’t know her at all. And those who did would tell him that Victoria Reese did nothing on impulse. Victoria Reese always had a plan. But his choices were intriguing. He quietly gave her control of the situation even when her arousal was anything but controlled. Could she go back to shelving his books without remembering his scent? It’s a G.D. birch forest on a hot summer day.

“Okay,” she said quickly.

“Okay, what?” Wicked humor danced in his eyes.

She shut her eyes tight and closed the distance. She pressed her mouth tightly against his and clutched his rock-hard biceps in an attempt to hold on to something. His beard tickled her lips and cheeks as she blindly pushed forward. For his part, John held on to the shelves behind her, in an attempt to let her continue “meeting him halfway.” Victoria pulled away, breathless from a dry kiss and feeling idiotic. “I don’t know why I did that,” she said, breathing hard.

John raised a brow. “Did what?”

“I just kissed you.”

He gave an impolite scoff. “Hardly. I’m old enough to know that real rakish kisses involve tongue.”

Victoria scoffed right back. How dare he tell me what a rakish kiss involves. “I don’t know you like that.”

“But that’s the point of impulsive kissing,” John said, drawing away from her. “You give way to emotion and cast aside inhibitions. Like the movies.”

He did have a point. A closed-lip kiss wasn’t exactly a proper ravishing, but his options threw her off-kilter. This wasn’t part of tonight’s plan. She had no way to prepare for such a moment. “That’s fair,” she said, and added, “Maybe I should try again.”

“I certainly wouldn’t stop you,” he purred, returning to her intimate space. “Whenever you’re ready.”