Quinn by R.C. Ryan Page A

I’ll just have to kiss you.”
    She brushed her lips over his.
    He thought about drawing away, but it was already too late. The taste of her was far too tempting to ignore. And though he hadn’t planned to, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to return the kiss with one of his own.
    The warmth of her, the sweetness of her, poured into him, leaving him stunned and reeling.
    Her lips were made for kissing. So soft. So perfectly formed. So welcoming.
    She felt so good in his arms.
    “Again,” she muttered.
    His lips moved over hers, at first soothing, caressing. Until the atmosphere changed between them and he absorbed a shocking, sexual jolt.
    He’d meant only to play along with her little tipsy game. But now that he was kissing her, holding her, it was no game. This was so much more. So real, he couldn’t turn away if he wanted to.
    In the back of his mind, he knew he was taking advantage of her weakness. Chugging a tall glass of whiskey would turn most brains to mush and would certainly weaken a woman’s resistance. But he had no such excuse, and still he couldn’t seem to stop. With each touch, each taste, he could feel himself sinking into her. Into all that sweetness. All that strength. And wanting more.
    He would stop, he promised himself. In just a minute. At least that’s what he fully intended. But with each passing second, with each unsteady beat of his heart, he couldn’t find the strength to pull away.
Just a minute more
, he thought as his pulse began racing and he could feel his temperature climbing. One more kiss. One quick press of that perfectly honed body to his. But instead of ending it, the kiss spun on and on until he began wondering which of them was really drunk. Her kiss was like a powerful drug, and he wanted more. He wanted all.
    At last, gathering his willpower, he managed to lift his head and fill his lungs with several deep breaths.
    He looked down at her. “You all right?”
    “Fantastic. Amazing. I’m floating. Ummm.” Her eyelids fluttered and closed.
    Quinn sat watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her hair, long and loose, spilled over her shoulder. He brushed a strand from her cheek. Soft. Her hair and skin were as soft as a newborn calf.
    Her eyes opened and he realized he’d been caught staring.
    She gave a lazy cat smile. “Did I tell you that I like you better without the beard? You look… really sexy.” Again her hand lifted to his cheek. “And you’re a really great kisser, Quinn Conway.”
    Her hand dropped like a stone.
    He managed a dry laugh as he absorbed a sudden rush of adrenaline. “Thanks.” He got to his feet. “I think you’d better rest awhile.”
    “I never… take naps. Besides…”—her words were badly slurred—“… after that amazing kiss, I’m too keyed up to sleep.”
    “Right.” His grin was quick. “Trust me. You’ll sleep.”
    “I never—”
    Her eyes were closed before he left the room.
    Quinn’s first order of business was to check on the mustang. The horse, though still skittish, had settled down as though the incident had never happened.
    Quinn saddled Cheyenne’s mare and rode out to check on the wolf den.
    Along the trail he had plenty of time to think. And though he’d hoped to concentrate on scholarly things, his mind kept circling back to Cheyenne.
    And that kiss.
    It hadn’t been so much a kiss as an earthquake. A storm that had left his whole world tilted out of sync. What was wrong with him? Maybe he’d been alone in the wilderness too long. The first pretty woman to flatter him had his head spinning like some lovesick teen’s. But there was no denying that kiss. He’d been caught completely off-guard. At first he’d thought he was being so chivalrous. He shook his head, just thinking about his reaction. One minute he was offering her comfort, and the next he was so caught up in kissing her that a herd of mustangs could have stampeded through the house and he wouldn’t have taken any