Page 35 of Laird of Smoke
His fingers still rested lightly upon her jaw, and he lifted her chin slightly.
Her eyes lowered.One corner of his lip rose in a welcoming, bemused smile.
She couldn’t help herself.She wanted another kiss.This one without the beard.She leaned forward, pressing her thirsty lips against his in invitation.
At first, she simply enjoyed the pliant warmth of his flesh as she tasted his succulent mouth.Then her breath came in hungry gulps as she began to feast upon him, angling her head to consume more and more.
He responded with equal fervor, moving his hand to cradle her cheek.The other hand came round to press at the nape of her neck, drawing her closer.
The world spun around her as powerful sensations tumbled her thoughts and dazed her emotions.She let herself be tossed about like a feather on the wind, even as the currents increased in strength, threatening to take away all of her control.
A whirlwind swept through her.Filled her lungs with life.Flooded her veins with lust.She lifted her arms around his neck.
Then there was a loud rustle in the brush.
The noise startled them apart.
Panic scattered her senses.
What was that?
Whowas it?
Curse her inattention.How could she have left herself so vulnerable?
But he quickly chuckled, muttering, “Damned squirrel.”
No danger then.Still, the enchantment was broken.Her relieved sigh was shaky.And she was mortified by how unguarded she’d allowed herself to become.
She wiped a trembling hand across her lips.Whether to erase his kiss or to calm her hunger, she wasn’t sure.
“We should go,” she decided hoarsely.
He nodded in agreement.“Or at least change our disguises.”
Eve was too upset by her own lack of awareness to appreciate his gentle humor.
What was wrong with her?She’d always managed to stay out of trouble by exercising caution.She was always aware of her surroundings.Attuned to sights and sounds and instincts that warned her of danger.
But this man—this beguiling man who could enthrall her with a kiss—left her devoid of sense.
She dared not let it happen again.
It was more than a matter of sinful longing.
It was a matter of survival.
Adam tightened his jaw as he stuffed the vessel of verjuice and the mule-hair beard into his satchel.
He had to be careful.
This woman was bringing out something dangerous in him.Something that made him act foolish.Take risks he shouldn’t.And left him woefully oblivious to the outside world.
That squirrel could have been the prior.Or an outlaw.Or a lawman.
Anyone stumbling upon two monks in each other’s arms could have meant death for them.At the very least, their true identities might have been revealed, and that would have been the end of Adam’s livelihood.
The kiss was his fault.
