The past week had shown Jonathan one thing at least: he could not go on worshipping from afar, he needed to resolve matters with Amy Ingraham one way or another before he parted with his reason. And either way, he was determined to at least have a kiss to show for his efforts. Jonathan settled his lips over Miss Ingraham’s with…authority. He struck a balance between entreaty and demand that required him to ignore both the male-animal jubilation coursing through his veins and the terror roiling in his gut. She’d be horrified at his expression of honest desire. She’d say nothing, but in the morning he’d find a tidily penned notice of intent to vacate her post. She’d simply vanish… This notion made him gather her more closely in his arms and take a glancing taste of her lips with his tongue. So plush and soft, so… Amy Ingraham made the sweetest little moan in the back of her throat, and through the haze of his building lust, Jonathan felt her hand fist in his hair and her breasts press firmly, even desperately, to his chest.
