“Minka, you should know that I have a habit of coming on strong in the presence of things that appeal to me, but you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

      She was studying the patterns painstakingly crafted into the glass constructing the spotlight several feet up. She heard his voice very close, very…soft. When she turned, he was right there looking adorable and wholly concerned that fear was the emotion she had for him.

      Her expression discounted that. It was soft, bordering on amused that he could think such a thing. “Oliver that—that’s crazy. You’ve done nothing to—”

      His head dipped and he was kissing her, his tongue plundering, exploring, discovering. Minka responded with a moan that held tones of surprise and expressed need. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands—an unnecessary concern as he’d taken possession of her wrists. He held them fast as he tugged her into the unexpected kiss.

      The gesture wasn’t overpowering—it teased. His tongue enticed her to respond in kind yet was just as content being the lone participant in the act.

      At first, Minka had been too stunned to launch right into full participation, but that eventually—deliciously—changed. His tongue continued to tantalize hers, thrusting and withdrawing during its hearty sampling of her mouth.