any thought for the consequences, she clutched his broad torso and held fast, her lips parting freely, craving more.
She knew a wild surge of pleasure as his mouth opened in answer to her silent urging, and his tongue began a languid quest, meeting the slick smoothness of her teeth. While he penetrated deeper, exploring the moist recesses of her mouth, she became aware of a new hunger—a hunger that was hot, and foretold of imminent, total surrender.
Sheer terror welled up inside her at the realization. No! her mind cried. Not this man! Not another type A. Will you never learn, Jess? He’ll smother you, take away the person you are, try to mold you into his image of what you should be. No! Run, you demented, weak, crazy woman!
She began to tremble in his arms, tried to protest, but her voice wouldn’t come, wouldn’t aid in her escape. His hands were at her waist, drawing her closer to him, more intimately against his exhilarating hardness. She could feel his arousal, and knew that he was no mere machine. He was a complete, fully functioning man—with all the appropriate human needs and desires.
Feeling helpless, she whimpered forlornly, and pushed as fiercely as her flagging strength would allow. Surprisingly, she found herself released, free to run. Dazed by the depth of her reaction to his kiss, she stumbled away until she felt the blessed support of the tree trunk. Propped against its solidness, she swept a hand through her hair, pointedly avoiding his eyes. “I—That was uncalled-for,” she croaked.
There was no sound, no apology, and she peeked up to judge his expression. His eyes were hooded, his lips pursed. She could read nothing of his thoughts.
“I—I said,” she began again, then had to clear her passion-swollen throat. “I said that was uncalled-for.”
He turned away. “I heard you.”
As he picked up the stick he’d dropped earlier, she demanded, “Is that all? No apology? No explanation? Just ‘I heard you’?”
He shifted to look down at her. “You were getting hysterical giving that type A speech. I didn’t want to slap you, so I kissed you to calm you down.”
She didn’t know what she’d wanted him to say, but it certainly hadn’t been that. Her cheeks fiery, she snapped, “Oh? Do your kisses usually send women into a coma?”
He considered her in the darkness. Along with the biting, tart smell of dead leaves and the cool hint of pine, she detected his scent on the breeze—or was it on her, now? Wincing, she tried not to breathe, or at least not to be so aware of his unique scent. It was too stimulating, too reminiscent of her near surrender moments ago.
“I’m sorry about your parents and your husband, Jess,” he said at last. “I’m sorry I remind you of them. I’m also sorry I kissed you. I suppose I’ve been working too much, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Oh?” she blurted, irritated that he was casting off the kiss so casually. A mental aberration, nothing more! How gallant! “Well, don’t worry, Mr. Brand. It’s totally forgotten.” She’d told several lies tonight, but none as big as that one. Swooping down to grab up her fallen stick, she glared at her wrist, provoked that she couldn’t see her watch, and unsure why that bothered her so.
As she fumbled with her coat sleeve, Lucas said, “It’s eleven-thirty.”
“Another half hour.” It came out in a woebegone moan, as though she was remarking on some unending medieval torture.
“I won’t attack you again, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said gruffly.
“You bet you won’t,” she retorted. “If I want to be any calmer I’ll smack myself with this stick until I lapse into unconsciousness. I won’t be needing any further ‘calming’ from you!”
“You do wonders for a man’s ego.”
“Check my job description. It doesn’t include ego stroking—”
A loud wail split the quiet, and Jess cried, “Oh, no! Not again!”
Lucas had struck off at a run. “This one sounds serious,” he called back.
Her heart hammering with alarm, she hurried after him, clutching her stick like a bat. “What—do you think it is?” she panted.
“Hell if I know.”
There was another scream, filled with terror.
Jess’s stomach clenched. “You said wild dogs sometimes—”
“I don’t know,” he cut in, then came to such an abrupt halt she almost slammed into his back.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Jess detected a familiar smell as she peered around Lucas to see what was going on. Suzy was cowering behind Larry Tenkiller. Jack was on his knees, petting a scrawny