“They’re good for you.” Cliff took his lips up her throat to nibble at her ear. “Might put some meat on you.” As he spoke, he took his hand down her side again.

“Complaining?”

“Uh-uh.” He ran his hand back up again so that his fingers brushed the side of her breast. “Though you do tend toward the lean side. We could build you up with three square meals a day and some exercise.”

“No one needs three meals a day,” she began, a bit huffily. “And as for exercise—”

“Do you like to dance?”

“Yes, but I—”

“Not much muscle,” he noted, pinching her arm. “How’s your endurance?”

She gave him a saucy look. “You should know.”

With a laugh, he pressed his lips to hers. “You’ve a very quick, very wicked mind.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, about dancing. Ever been in a contre line?”

“A what?”

“I thought so.” He shook his head, then shifted so that he could look down at her with pity. “Country dancing, Maggie.”

Her brows drew together. “Square dancing?”

“No.” It was time to educate the lady, Cliff decided, and drew her up to a sitting position. Her hair flowed wildly over her shoulders, the way he liked it best. “Square dancing’s more formal, more regimented, than country dancing, but there’d be traditional music and a caller.”

Maggie ran a finger up his chest. “Swing your partner and do-si-do?”

He felt the little thrill inch along his skin behind the trail of her finger. Did she know it? he wondered. From the smile that hovered on her lips, he thought she knew it very well. “Among other things.”

Maggie linked her hands around his neck and let her head fall back so that she could look at him from beneath lowered lashes. “I’m sure it’s all very fascinating, but I don’t know why we’re doing all this talking when you could be kissing me.”

For an answer he gave her a long, searing kiss that left her breathless and pleased. “Because,” he said, and nipped at her ear, “I want to go dancing with you.”

Sighing, content, Maggie enjoyed the sensation of feeling her own blood begin to sizzle. “Where and when?”

“Tonight, in the park outside of town.”

“Tonight?” She opened one eye. “Dancing in the park?”

“It’s a tradition.” He laid her back again but kept himself propped up so that his hand was free to skim her body. “A sort of Founder’s Day celebration combined with rites of spring. Most of the town’ll show. There’ll be dancing till midnight, then a potluck supper. Then …” He cupped her breast, enjoying the way her eyes clouded when he brushed a fingertip over the point. “There’s dancing till dawn for anybody who can handle it.”

“Until dawn?” Intrigued and already hopelessly aroused, Maggie arched under him.

“You’ve danced until dawn before, I imagine.”