Page 16 of Protect and Serve

“Wouldn’t you rather kiss Cleopatra? She was very beautiful and passionate and, from what I understand, was willing to stand on a box.”

“Ah, but you’re forgetting the asps. I try to avoid women who keep vipers as pets.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that is a good idea.” He took her hand as they wandered toward the park, and she let him. In fact, she interlaced their fingers, which he found encouraging indeed. The night air was sweet and cool and riffled gently through her hair. Her beauty was only enhanced by the glow of the moon. “If you could kiss any of them, which would you choose?” she asked after a moment.

“Hmm.” He pretended to ponder this conundrum. “I can’t think of any other short woman I would rather kiss than you.”

She stopped and looked up at him, torn between outrage and humor. “I’m not short.”

They were next to the merry-go-round—which was providential—so he lifted her up on it. Finally they were face-to-face. “That’s better.”

“What’s better?” she said, but her voice had softened and she leaned into him in a delicious way. He rocked the merry-go-round, just a bit, just enough to make her clutch him in her surprise.

“And better still.”

“Good sir, I do think you intend to debauch me.”

Debauch her? Hmm. Not a bad idea. “I was planning to kiss you, but hey, who am I to deny a lady?”

She stilled as their gazes clashed. Her smile faded. In its place was something even more lovely. Desire. He pulled her closer and breathed in her scent.

“Did you know I had a crush on you when we were kids?” He wasn’t sure why he admitted it. He’d sworn he never would.

“You did?” Her eyes widened.

“Couldn’t you tell?”

“No. You were so mean to me.”

“Only because I wanted your attention.”

She scudded her palm over his short hair. It felt divine. “Do you want my attention now?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Are you going to be mean?”

“Never.”

“Well, then,” she said, but she didn’t finish the sentence, unless she meant to express herself in a more tactile fashion. She tipped her head to the side and pressed her mouth to his. It was tender and soft and clinging and it incited him to respond. He nudged her lips apart with his tongue and tasted her. She groaned and her fingers curled; she raked her nails over his scalp.

And damn, it was good. A shiver danced up his spine.

Unfortunately, bracing on the merry-go-round was a bad strategy, because it kept moving, so he whipped her up into his arms and sat, cradling her on his lap. He leaned her against one of the poles and used that for leverage in his kiss.

He tasted her, reveled in her and she reciprocated. He had no idea how long they kissed, explored, exulted in each other, but it wasn’t nearly long enough. Forever would be good, he supposed. Not asking much.

This was too wonderful to even think of stopping.

She was an armful, his Claire, and he could tell a deep passion bubbled beneath that slightly cynical surface. As her passion rose, she drew her hands over his shoulders and chest and then, to his horror and delight, found the hem of his polo shirt and slipped beneath it, touching him flesh to flesh.

Holy crap. His cock surged. He almost heard the boiiing.

“We’re in the park,” he said, more to himself than her.

“It’s dark,” she whispered. “No one can see.”

He pulled back. He had to. Because in a minute he’d have her on the dirt beneath him. She deserved better than that. “Come home with me.”