honest with yourself and with me, you want the same.”
“That hardly signifies.”
Winn leaned forward and captured her hand in his. He made no other move, simply held her delicate hand in his for a moment, feeling the slightness of it, the impression of fragility that could only be misleading. “It does signify. Tell me the truth.”
“I shouldn’t.”
He needed to know. As much as he needed his next breath, he needed to know that she felt at least some stirring of attraction for him. “Do it anyway.”
“I liked it when you kissed me,” she admitted, almost defiantly. “And while the thought of repeating it does appeal to me, it is unwise and we should not even be discussing it much less contemplating it.”
Satisfied with that, Winn relented. “Fair enough, Miss St. James… for now. I’ll take my victory, no matter how small it is.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “We are not at war, my lord.”
“Aren’t we? I certainly feel as if I am under siege. I think of you constantly,” he admitted.
For the longest moment, she simply blinked at him, apparently stunned by his admission. When she’d managed to regain her composure, she pointed out, “You’ve known me for less than a week.”
He felt the tug of a grin at his lips, though it was certainly a rueful one. “To borrow your own phrasing, Miss St. James, that hardly signifies. Whether I’ve known you for ten minutes or ten days or ten years… I daresay you are the type of woman a man never forgets. You invade us… our thoughts, our dreams, until we’re nothing but hollowed out wrecks of our former selves.”
She stammered for a moment, attempting to formulate a reply. But wide-eyed, she eventually gave up and simply stared at him. He’d caught her off guard that morning, in more ways than one. Finally, she managed to say, “That’s hardly a flattering assessment.”
“Isn’t it? I had thought myself immune to such things… that no woman could ever get under my skin in quite that way. And yet here we are. In short, Miss St. James, you’ve turned me into a jabbering, calf-eyed fool like some fresh out of the schoolroom lad who doesn’t know his head from his—well, regardless. You have a singular kind of power, Calliope St. James. I urge you to wield it wisely.”
“I don’t feel powerful,” she admitted. “I feel confused and frightened and out of my depth at every turn. But the one thing I am certain of is that the kiss we shared, as such things go, was fairly benign.”
Winn shook his head. “I wouldn’t say it was benign. It was relatively chaste in the overall scheme of things, but no less potent for it.”
She nodded. “I suppose that’s an accurate assessment. You said you wanted to kiss me again… why haven’t you? There has certainly been opportunity to do so.”
“I suppose I’m waiting for you to decide that you’d like to be kissed.”
“Oh. Would it be only a kiss?”
“If that is what you desire,” Winn replied.
“Then perhaps you should kiss me now. It might be that the first one was an aberration of sorts,” she suggested.
He didn’t laugh. In fact, he half-hoped she was right. Yet, he knew that if he kissed her again, it would only solidify one truth for him. Calliope St. James had the power to tie him in knots.
Winn pulled her across the small distance separating their seats until she was pressed against his chest. His arms closed around her and she leaned into him, her lashes fluttering as she closed her eyes. Unable to resist a moment longer, he claimed her lips. Despite his desire to take, to plunder, he kept his touch gentle—coaxing and seductive rather than forceful. When her lips parted under the gentle pressure of his, he teased them with his tongue, nipping at the plump curve of her lower lip. But there was nothing that prepared him for when she returned his kiss, when she mimicked those same strategies.
But there was no time to ponder it further. The hack was slowing to a stop. They had arrived.
Easing back from her, Winn straightened her hair, tucking one wayward strand behind her ear. “Not an aberration then.”
“So it would seem,” she said, looking somewhat poleaxed by the whole experience. “I always thought kissing was something done as a sign of affection… as a sweet gesture.”
“It can be. But it can also be so much more,” he answered, taking note of her slightly panicked expression. Taking pity on