Your mind. Your passion for your work. Your beauty. You’re perfect.”

“You’re going to give me quite an ego.”

“Good. You should know you’re special. One in a million.”

She drew back to look him in the face. He didn’t turn away, letting her look, allowing her to see the flare of heat in his eyes.

“If you really feel that way, would you kiss me?” she whispered. “Unless that’s not how you feel—”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment I opened my eyes and saw you in the room looking like an angel.”

She swallowed hard. “I’m no angel,” she murmured, even as her pulse beat double time, and her gaze drank him in, lingering on the hard, clean line of cheekbone and the shadow of a beard darkening his strong jaw. He shaved every morning, using her father’s kit, but by late afternoon he had that shadow again. And then there was that mouth, his wide, firm mouth, his lips lovely. She’d loved drawing his face and loved his mouth most of all, wondering what it would feel like against her own. Wondering what he’d taste like. Wondering if kissing him would be different from kissing alcohol-fueled Ethan in Honolulu two years ago. That kiss had been so awful and sloppy that it had killed all desire to date.

He closed the distance between them, his hands circling her upper arms, bringing her in against him. His blue eyes glowed bright, the heat in the depths holding her, trapping her. Life seemed to slow, and the world shrank to just them.

Josephine could feel the thudding of her heart, and his hands wrapping around her arms, his skin so warm. She shivered at his heat and the way his hard chest pressed against her breasts, making her conscious that she was braless, and her nipples were tight and yet tender, and so sensitive to every breath he took.

This was what she wanted. This was all she wanted. Just to feel his mouth on hers...

His dark head dropped and very slowly his lovely, sensual mouth captured hers, sending sharp hot sparks of sensation through her. She heard a whimper and prayed it wasn’t her. His hand rose to cup the back of her head, holding her still while his lips traveled over hers, teasing, tasting, discovering. She shuddered as more sparks of feeling shot through her, the heat making her melt on the inside, her brain flooded with wildly contradictory signals. She wanted more, so much more, even as another part whispered that she was out of his league.

“Second thoughts?” he murmured, lifting his head, his blue gaze meeting and holding hers.

“Um, yes. No. No.” Because truly, she’d never felt so alive and so full of yearning about anything, but this was crazy. Her feelings were crazy. Excitement filled her veins, making her feel daring and wild...two things Josephine was not, nor ever had been.

And yet, it felt so good to feel excited and alive.

It felt so good to be touched and kissed.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, stroking her cheek, sending rivulets of fire through her, fire that she could feel in the tips of her breasts and deep between her thighs.

“Because it’s obvious you’re thinking.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for it—”

“Don’t be. Talk to me.”

She drew a quick, shallow breath before blurting, “Do you think you could be married?”

“No.”

“So you don’t think you have a...a wife...somewhere?”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure?”

His broad shoulders shifted. “Just the way I know I’m not American.