Certainly she would have disapproved aloud as well, except the part of her brain in charge of cool reason had vanished. Gently his lips moved over hers. Soft, warm, persuasive. Her heart beat wildly, her limbs immobilized by some alluring curiosity to see what would happen next as his kiss seemed to take complete possession of her. Finn’s palms rested on her hips steadying her for the tender assault on her mouth. His tongue slid softly along the seam, startling her lips apart. It seemed that had been his intent, his tongue and his body pressing into her. She might have been frightened by the unexpected invasion except that his every touch brought her exquisite—surprising—pleasure. ’Twas the fault of the herbs. She’d suffered all eve, forced to sit prettily and entertain a guest when her skin burned beneath her gown. And no matter that Finn had sounded like an arrogant knave to claim he knew the cure for what ailed her—apparently he did. Because everywhere he touched sang at the contact.
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