She eagerly met his kiss, so achingly slow and tender that she lost all sense of time. It was a simple touch of the lips, a silent exploration and rediscovery of the magic of kissing each other. And he tasted of the brandy he’d consumed earlier. Passion ignited in her veins, like a spark set to aged tinder, and she couldn’t get close enough or hold him tightly enough. She pressed into his torso, encouraged by his hand at the base of her spine. The kiss ravaged her soul, and she clutched the open collar of his shirt as if she could hold him there forever. With the banked passion of decades fanned to life, they didn’t make it past the door, or even so far as the sofa that flanked the fireplace. Daniel’s hand slid low and cupped her buttock to hold her in place as his pelvis rolled against hers. The hard ridge of his erection rubbed inquisitively and her hips echoed the movement. A shudder racked her frame, and he murmured unintelligibly in reply. Then his other hand slipped around, and he lifted and set her on the edge of the desk.
