He gave a sardonic grin. “She did come up to me, as a matter of fact.” “And?” “After we shared a drink, I sent her packing. It's not brown flesh I'm after.” He came a step closer. “I crave your creamy white body.” He lunged as she made to get away, his arms snaking out, effortlessly dragged her close. His mouth was gentle; his tongue feather soft as it moved across her clenched teeth. “Open your mouth.” “Go to hell.” She kicked at him until he let go. “Naughty, naughty, Jo,” he taunted. Her blazing eyes made him want her more than any other woman he had known. She was even more beautiful when she got angry, a fighting, spitting feline, driving him to distraction with her fiery spirit. Her special scent wafted in his nostrils, more potent than the strongest perfume. He needed her like a flower needed water to survive.
