The moon could have fallen from the sky, and she would have been less unnerved. She couldn’t kiss him! She’d lose whatever tiny grip of control she still possessed.
Swaying slightly, she turned unsteadily to face him again. She’d drunk too much wine. One kiss? It was, in light of everything else, a small price to pay, was it not it? Was she ready to abandon her pride completely and allow him to see she’d fallen in love with him? Could she stand to give him the satisfaction that he’d won his foolish game? Did it matter now?
“One kiss for your silence?” Did she just say that? It sounded as if she was actually considering it.
He grasped her shoulders, branding the flesh on her arms, and turned her to face him. “My silence concerning what exactly, love?” A corner of his mouth twitched; eyes
