Inordinately pleased with the way the evening was progressing, Mia found herself humming beneath her breath as she filled the kettle.
“Malar?” Mia studied Connor skeptically over the Scrabble board. “Is that really a word?”
“It is. It means ‘referring to the cheek.’” He smugly wrote down his score, making sure to note that the M sat on a double-word square.
She sighed gustily. “No fair using medical terminology.”
“Hey, you’re the one who added qua to the beginning of my train,” he reminded her. “Quatrain—that’s a literary term, isn’t it? If you can use your work jargon, I can use mine.”
“No fair using impeccable logic, either,” she grumbled, making him laugh.
She stood, picking up her empty teacup as she rose. “Would you like another cup of herbal tea? Something to eat, maybe?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.” He stood and stretched, feeling muscles that seemed to always be in knots these days loosen with the movement.
Mia returned empty-handed. She must have changed her mind about another cup of tea for herself. She studied him as he stood in mid-stretch. “You look relaxed.”
He lowered his arms and flexed his neck experimentally. “Yeah. Feel pretty good, actually. I guess I did need a night off.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you.”
“You were right, as always.” On an impulse, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a friendly hug. “Thanks for helping me unwind tonight.”
She returned the hug lightly. “I’ve enjoyed it, too.”
She felt good against him. Warm and soft and very feminine. She never wore strong perfumes, but he detected just the faintest scent of roses. Shampoo? Lotion? Whatever it was, he liked it.
He didn’t want to let her go.
After a moment, she looked up at him rather quizzically. “Connor?”
The lipstick she’d applied earlier had long since worn off, yet her lips were still rosy and moist. They were slightly parted in question, giving him just a glimpse of teeth and tongue.
He swallowed.
She must have picked up on the emotions suddenly running through him. Her eyes narrowed and darkened, and she moistened her lips in a subconscious gesture that made his abdomen tighten even more. A low groan wedged in his throat.
“Connor?” she said again, her voice little more than a whisper this time.
Maybe later he would come up with a good excuse for his actions. At least an explanation. But for now…
He lowered his head and captured her mouth with his.
Chapter Eight
It wasn’t their first kiss, exactly. They’d always had a warm, touchy friendship, sharing hugs and quick kisses easily and casually.
This was different.
Mia gripped Connor’s shirt for support as the world started to spin around her, shifting into a new reality in which nothing would ever be quite the same for her. For them.
There was an enhanced physical awareness in this kiss. Desire. Was this a new development, or had it been there between them all along, carefully smothered beneath layers of caution and hard-earned wariness?
Even as his mouth moved on hers, she noted the firmness of his arms around her, the breadth of his chest, the warmth of his skin. She felt him shift against her and became instantly aware that he was aroused by the embrace. By her.
Somehow her hand had become tangled in his hair. She’d stroked that hair before, patted it teasingly, smoothed it into place. Why, now, did it f
eel so much more intimate to have her fingers buried in its soft depths?