A Scent of Seduction. Colleen Collins

combustible as a line of gunpowder leading to an explosive device. She knew he felt it, too, this wild, flammable need ricocheting wildly between them. And the only thing that mattered was satisfying that need.

      As though on cue, they shared a smile and whatever last, niggling reservations she had suddenly lifted, like a wisp of fog into the air.

      He waggled his fingers lightly in the air, bringing the focus back to his previous topic.

      It crossed her mind that he had elegant hands. Brown, long, tapered. Beautiful, really. She’d never thought that before about a man’s hands. But then, Coyote was a man of contradictions. Crafty one moment, open the next. Coarse, then sophisticated. No surprise this tall, dark and impossibly masculine man would have beautiful hands.

      “I’m going to tell you how my five fingers represent my five senses.” He held up his forefinger. “The first is for sight.” He looked at her as though memorizing the moment. “I love how you look right now. How the sea has coaxed curls in your hair and misted your skin. It makes you look more alive, more primed.”