Montan a Wildfire

She turned her head, and confused green met lusty silver.

No, that's wrong. His eyes aren't silver, they're...

From a distance his eyes looked the color of a stormy winter sky; cold and grey and piercing. Up close, they didn't look that way at all. The center of each iris was an intriguing shade of silver-grey. It was the band of solid blue rimming the circumference that really gave those eyes character, and added a spark of warmth. That, and the small, seasoned creases shooting out from each sun-copper corner. The contrast between his inky hair and dark skin, and the penetrating color of his eyes, made

his gaze burn.

"That's better. Now, what were you saying, princess? You weren't really going to deny it, were you?"

"M-maybe," she evaded breathlessly, then swallowed hard when his hand left her thigh. It made a lazy, skimming ascent, never pausing, never once leaving her body. His fingers vised her jaw. Like his grip, his expression was insistent.

"Deny it if you can. I'll just call you a liar. And we'll both know I'm right, won't we? Of course, if you'd rather I proved it to you..."

She shook her head. It was a quick, jerky motion, vague because it was trapped by his hand. "That won't be necessary."

"Good. Now come here."

Her eyes widened. Nervous, she licked her lips, then dearly wished she hadn't. His gaze shadowed the movement, hungrily tracking the path her tongue made. "I am here."

"Un-uh. Come closer."

The arm around her waist flexed. She could feel the heat of his chest seeping through her dress. The heat emanating from his lap was even more pronounced.

And was it firmer? "Mr. Chandler, if I came any closer to you we'd melt into each other!"

"That's the idea, princess. A man likes a woman to melt right into him when he's kissing her breathless. That's how he knows she likes it."

"Oh."

He scowled. "Oh? Is that what all proper young ladies are trained to say when a man threatens to kiss them? 'Oh?'"

His words made her breath go all rapid and shallow. It did quite the opposite to her heart rate. Amanda strove to compensate for the warm, fluttering sensations in her tummy by lowering her tone and edging her words with a firmness she didn't feel. "I'm sure I wouldn't know, since I've rarely been kissed. However, since you seem to be the expert on ladies, why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to say at a time like this?"

"Please."

She gulped. His lips were so close she could feel the hot wash of his breath against her mouth. His kiss was a constant threat, and her lips tingled with the promise of it, even as she snapped, "Please!"

"All right ma'am. If you insist." His mouth dipped, and his next words were rasped against her lips. "Lady or no lady, I never could resist a woman who begs."

"Begs? Mr. Chandler, I most certainly did not—!"

His mouth crashed down on hers, sealing the words in her throat. There was no time to say more. A second later, there was no breath left in her to say anything with.

There was nothing gentle about Jacob Blackhawk Chandler. The man was hard as granite, inside and out. That wasn't speculation, it was fact. Confusion came in the way his mouth ate at hers in a manner that was hot, yet provocatively tender. If Amanda didn't know better, she might have thought Jake wanted her to enjoy this kiss as much as he so obviously did.

And that was the problem. She did enjoy it. So much so, in fact, that it didn't take long for her resistance—if she'd ever really had any—to melt. Oh, who was she trying to fool? Her entire body melted the second his mouth had claimed hers. She was soft, willing... embarrassingly responsive.

He tasted good. Raw, manly tastes. Amanda tipped her head to the side, wanting, needing to taste still more of him. She groaned when he took advantage of the offer. A growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he deepened the kiss.

Her toes curled, her fists opened. She clung to his shoulders, tightening her grip until her fingers tunneled into his warm flesh and the tightly bunched muscles beneath. But even that wasn't enough. She wanted to feel more.

His neck passed beneath her hands. She buried her fingers in his silky hair, cupping his scalp in her palms and urging him closer. She arched her back, straining toward him.

Jake's response was immediate. His mouth opened over hers. The warm, moist tip of his tongue skated over her lips, teasing the crease that sealed them innocently together.

Amanda had only been kissed twice before. Neither time was like this. She didn't even know a man and a woman could kiss like this! Was it proper for a man to use his tongue? Was it proper for a woman? Did it matter? Proper or not, she wasn't going to demand he stop. This felt too good!

Her lips parted invitingly. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and the kiss turned savage. His strokes were wet and deep and bold. He circled the tip of her tongue, mating with hers in a wild rhythm that made her head spin and her blood boil.