captured her mouth with his.
It was a swift kiss, commanding and sure. Possessive and demanding, it seared into her like some kind of red-hot brand. She felt it storm through her limbs, lighting her up with that sweet and terrible electricity, making her lean closer to him, fascinated and captivated by the sure, carnal mastery of his kiss, the hint of more, of something dark and sweet and addictive—and then he pulled away.
Too soon. Much too soon—but then she remembered herself. Where they were. Who they were.
She felt herself flush with heat, and only just kept herself from squirming beneath that dark gray gaze. She felt out of control. Exposed. He let go of her chin and she staggered back against the pillar, unable to keep herself from raising a trembling hand to her lips like some kind of artless virgin.
Had that really just happened? Had he really just kissed her like that?
Was she really … shaking?
And looking at her, Rafe McFarland, Lord of All He Surveyed and soon to be her husband, finally smiled.
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