move away.”
She had to agree with him, but she just wouldn’t say it aloud. But she needed to stop him from kissing her neck.
“Thomas,” she cleared her throat again, trying to find something to talk about, “how long have you lived here in Napa Valley?” After she’d said it, she remembered him telling her and Joslyn about the history of Powers Enterprises. Inwardly, she groaned. Now she felt stupid. No, she wasn’t stupid, it was that his soft lips and hot breath on her neck were erasing any thoughts she had in her head.
“I was born here,” he muttered as he continued to trail his lips up and down the side of her neck.
“Me, too.”
She waited for him to ask her something, but he seemed to have a one-track mind, which was the direction her mind was going if she didn’t stop this.
“Thomas,” Morgan asked with a sigh. “What are you doing?”
“Enjoying your company.”
“With your lips?”
“Especially with my lips.” He kissed her neck again.
Shivers rippled over her body and he pulled her closer against him. Her mind was not focusing clearly. She wanted to leave but she also wanted him to not stop. Her last boyfriend was months ago and the need to feel a man’s kiss was overwhelming. She needed to get control and not let him do this.
“Thomas, I think... we need to get back.”
He lifted his head, looking at her. “Why?”
“Because I can’t let this happen.”
“Let what happen?”
She arched an eyebrow. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He chuckled and caressed her cheek. “I like being with you.”
“Then let’s get to know each other better,” she suggested.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “That’s what I thought I was doing.”
She groaned in frustration and moved away from him, picking up her helmet. He reached around her, placing his hand on the helmet to keep her from putting it on.
“Okay, fine. I won’t kiss your neck anymore.”
“You won’t?”
“No, Morgan. I do want to get to know you.”
She didn’t dare turn her face and look directly at him. He was so close she worried that if she turned, he would think she wanted him to kiss her on the mouth, instead. She relaxed and put the helmet back. He pulled away, and she could finally breathe easier.
“So, Morgan, have you always wanted to be a photographer?”
“When I was a little girl, I loved taking pictures. I would pretend that I worked for a newspaper and that I was both the photographer and the reporter. When the Tribute hired me as a photographer, I was okay with that, but now I want to be a reporter. Unfortunately, my boss won’t give me a chance to prove myself.”
“Why not?”
“Because he thinks Joslyn is a really good journalist.”
“I’m sure you are better.” He reached out and took hold of her hand, entwining their fingers.
She dropped her attention to their hands. How long had it been since she enjoyed herself on a date? She’d gone out with so many jerks lately, it was hard to believe in her fairytale Prince Charming. It was difficult to admit how much she liked seeing him hold her hand so gently.
“I think that’s one of the reasons I want to pursue the issue with the vineyard fires.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “If I find the story I think this is, my boss might actually give me a shot at being a reporter.”
“And what if he doesn’t?”
She expelled a frustrated breath. “Then I go looking for another newspaper or magazine that will hire me.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Let me know if I can help you. I have a lot of connections.”
She laughed. “That’s only because the paparazzi loves your face.”
He leaned closer. “And what about you? Do you love my face, too?”
Good grief! She’d opened a can of worms that time.
She pushed him away and faced forward, putting on her helmet. “Come on, let’s get back. It’s getting late.”
“Hey, before we go,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her and scooted closer, “will you go to dinner with me?”
“Dinner?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“On Sunday?”
His body shook with a silent laugh. “I guess it is Saturday already, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Fine, then go with me tonight.”
She stared ahead, not really seeing the beautiful valley or the twinkling stars. Going with him tonight would be considered a real date. Could she do that? Her crazily skipping heart gave her the answer before her head did. “All right. I’ll go to dinner with