“Promise.”

She had intended to get up and put on her clothes, but now as he touched her so gently, she couldn’t move. She felt his warmth as he came closer and knew he was going to kiss her again. She was no longer afraid. Instead, the slow heat of desire rekindled inside her—not a raging fire, but a small, cozy flame.

“You don’t like my underwear,” she whispered against his mouth.

“No.” He nibbled at her bottom lip. “But I like what’s inside it a whole lot.” His fingertips trailed along the bumps of her spine as his mouth settled over hers.

The kiss was both gentle and passionate, full of sizzle and sweetness. At that moment she wanted to make love with him more than she’d ever wanted anything. His tongue invaded her mouth. Her hands slipped to his arms, but then she wished she hadn’t touched him there because she didn’t want to be reminded of his strength, only his gentleness. How did she know he would stay gentle?

“Dan?”

“I know you said you didn’t want any—you know—any kinky stuff.”

She could feel him stiffen, and she almost lost courage as he drew away. Sinking back against the pillows that bunched at the headboard, the spread still clutched to her chest, she spoke in a rush. “This isn’t all that kinky. Really, it’s not.”

“Maybe I’d better be the judge of that. And I’m warning you—I’m getting more conservative every day.”

Her courage left her. “Forget it.”

“We’ve gone this far; you might as well get it off your chest.”

“I was just— Never mind.”

“Phoebe, if things keep progressing at their current rate, it’s about eighty percent guaranteed we’re going to be intimate before this night’s over, so you’d better tell me what’s on your mind. Otherwise, the whole time we’re going at it, I’ll be waiting for you to bark like a dog or tell me to call you Howard.”

She gave him an unsteady smile. “I’m not that imaginative. I wanted to ask—I mean, would you mind very much if we—” She got stuck and tried again. “If we pretend I’m a—”

“Lion tamer? Prison guard?”

“A virgin,” she whispered and felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

He gazed at her. “A virgin?”

She dropped her eyes, mortified at what she’d revealed. “Forget it. Forget I said anything. Let’s just do it.”

“Phoebe, darlin’, what’s going on here?” He brushed his index finger over her lips.

“There’s nothing going on.”

“You can tell me. I’m sort of like a bedroom priest; I’ve pretty much heard it all. Have you ground out so many miles between the bedposts that you want to turn back the odometer a little?”

“Something like that,” she murmured.