A quiet bedazzlement that she had known long ago sparkled in her blood, far better than what she experienced in those recent dreams. The girlhood she had lost in every way possible raised one hand above the dank waters that submerged it. Her spirit took hold of that hand and held tight so it would not disappear again.

That meant letting the kiss continue. She noted every second of it. Every warmth, every touch. How it changed to something deeper and the way his hands rested on her back and side. She relinquished confusion and just floated in the sensations, amazed.

He took her face in his hands and looked in her eyes. Not frowning, but with an intensity that made the beauty pause.

“You have not kissed me,” he said. “Do you not want to? If you don’t, if I misunderstood—”

She placed her lips on his to silence him. She must have done it right because he took over again and there were no more words.

It could not go on. Soon, it would be ruined. A corner of her mind waited for the moment that would happen while the rest of her relished the brief rejuvenation while she could.

True desire worked its ways with her, transforming her, starting a strange hunger that only seemed to grow. She lost hold of her thoughts, her judgment . . . herself. His hands moved in a caress that spoke of his own desire and rising passion.

That possessive hold should alarm her, but didn’t. A part of her awoke to what was happening, however. To the time and place of it, and who he was. His dominating presence provoked her vulnerability. Her desire actually enjoyed that. A primitive inner voice urged him on. Rationality spoke louder. How they had met, what he might seek besides pleasure, pressed itself onto her consciousness.

Regretfully, she moved her head to break the kiss. Battling a preference to embrace and hold him close, she placed her hands on his chest, stopping him. “You should go.”

He did not cajole or reveal disappointment. Whatever he had thought to have tonight, he seemed to accept that this was all there would be.

One more kiss, a sweet one, and he released her. “Of course. You should sleep. You were too long a servant and should stay abed until noon tomorrow.”

“Yes, I should retire.” Alone. She did not have to say it. She released the hand she clutched above the water and let it sink again.

After Chase took his leave, Minerva sat on the divan, eyes blurring, finding herself amidst the chaotic reactions those kisses had caused. It had been stupid to allow herself to taste that which she dare not enjoy in full. She was well along on a good scolding when she realized that his “later” explanation had not come.