Anything for You by Jo Ann Ferguson

satisfied with just those two choices, but I’m not.”
    She could have walked away before his lips brushed her cheek. As slow as he was with the crutch, he would be unable to catch her. But she did not pull away. She wanted a moment more of his bewitching gaze holding her in an invisible embrace.
    When a smile tilted one corner of his ragged mustache, her pulse throbbed through her at the speed of her rapid breath. She gasped when his hand settled on her waist. The slightest pressure from his fingers leaned her toward him.
    As she touched the firm breadth of his shoulder, she was sure lightning had riveted her. Fire raced along her skin, setting every inch of her ablaze. He tugged her more tightly to him. His mustache was cold against her face, but his lips scorched her mouth. Like his words, his kiss teased her. As his tongue savored the shadowed secrets of her mouth, her arms slipped around his neck. She let the strength of his arm cradle her.
    A soft moan escaped her lips as his mouth pressed against the pulse on her neck. When he spoke, the caress of his words sent a tremor to her very toes.
    â€œCan you be satisfied with less than this, honey?”
    Her fingers curled on his strong back as she whispered, “This is crazy.”
    â€œYes, it is.” He etched her skin with the sparks of his kisses, following the ribbons of her bonnet to the very center of her throat. Decorating her chin with the same luscious flame, he murmured against her lips, “It’s crazy to think I could be satisfied with just this.”
    He silenced her question with his mouth over hers. Demanding, his lips pressed into hers as he leaned her back against his arm, his fingers tangling in her hair and loosening it. The strands drifted across his hand.
    With a frayed gasp, she pulled away. She jabbed her hair back under her bonnet and stared up at him in dismay. “We can’t—I mean, we shouldn’t—”
    He smiled as he brushed her cheek with a crooked finger. “Probably not.”
    â€œI don’t know you very well.”
    â€œYou could know me very, very well.”
    She shook her head, trying to free herself from the web of his silken voice and his touch as dangerous as a spider’s venom. “I told you, I don’t—”
    â€œSleep with any of the jacks.” Adam chuckled when that appealing blush slapped her cheeks again. She could speak so plainly about anything but her own passions. “I heard you the first time you said that.”
    â€œI never said that. ”
    â€œNo, you were much more ladylike.”
    â€œOne of us has to have good manners.” She gathered her coat more closely to her as she stepped back.
    He wanted to tell her that was a mistake, because the black wool was pulled tautly across her breasts. He bit back the words, choosing ones that were almost the truth. “I was just checking something out.”
    â€œAnd what would that be?”
    â€œTo find out if my kiss is what’s made you so skittish all week.”
    â€œDon’t flatter yourself.”
    He closed the distance between them in a single step, seizing her hand before she could flee. As the setting sun splashed scarlet across her face, he saw fury in her eyes—fury and something else that was most certainly not pleasure. He hoped it was not fear. What could be frightening Gypsy here, so far from anywhere? The answer might be the very one he needed.
    â€œI’m not flattering myself.” When her eyes grew wide at his suddenly somber tone, he added, “You like kissing me.”
    Her hand striking his cheek shocked him as much as it did her, if he were to judge by how all color fled from her face. He let her hand slip out of his and watched as she took another step back.
    â€œAdam, I—I’m sorry. I’ve never slapped anyone in my whole life.”
    â€œDon’t apologize.” He rubbed his cheek and arched a brow. “I suspect I deserved