Starting with a Kiss. Barbara McMahon
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through her from head to toes felt like a small electric shock. Her eyes locked with his and the boutique and his sister seemed to fade, disappearing into a gray mist. There were only the two of them, alone in the world, his breath against her cheeks and the odd, sensuous awareness that seemed to fill every pore.
She’d been dealing with men for years, first the cowboys on her dad’s small ranch, then aspiring doctors, interns, residents and established physicians. But she’d never experienced such a strong physical reaction to any of them.
She had not expected him to touch her. Nor had she expected the flaring sensations that consumed her. What had she gotten herself into?
“Then let’s start with the clothes,” Pam said.
Abby blinked and seemed to come out of a trance. She stepped away. How could she have been so mesmerized by the man? He and she didn’t have a thing in common. Where was this physical awareness coming from?
“I really just came to look,” Abby said, doing her best to ignore Greg, to ignore the clamoring of her senses for more of his touch, more of his attention. Remember his normal manner, she admonished herself. Today was the aberration. Usually he didn’t know she existed.
Still not certain of his motives, she would wait and see how things unfolded. She was not trusting the man—not completely. But then, she didn’t trust any man completely anymore. Not after her experience with Terry, and Jeb.
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