Ann Maxwell

“Slowly Shane took his hands from his pockets and reached for her.
Dani held her breath, not sure what was to come, afraid and yet not really fearful. His hands settled on her shoulders, and his arms drew her closer as he bent down to her mouth.
The kiss was more gentle than Dani had expected, and far more hungry. It haunted her in ways that had nothing to do with her fear of large men.
“What about that?” Shane asked softly. “Does that change your mind?”
“Should it?”
“You’re damned right it should.”
He kissed her again, less gently this time. She sensed the barely restrained passion in him and trembled.
But not with fear.
Suddenly she found herself kissing him fiercely, almost fighting him for the embrace with a passion that demanded more from him than a warrior’s restraint.
Shane made a thick sound. His arms closed around her, lifting her, holding her so close there was barely room between them for the heat of their bodies to mingle.
Finally, reluctantly, he let her slide down the length of his body. He made no effort to hide his arousal. He simply looked at her with a raw desire that made her want to be close to him again.
Very close.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he said bluntly. “We want each other. There’s nothing worse for a covert operation than sex.”
For a moment longer Dani savored the warmth of his hands, the caressing pressure of his thumbs against the underside of her breasts, and the undisguised hunger in his eyes.
Then she drew a long, ragged breath and slowly let it out.
“Then we’ll just have to say no, won’t we?” Dani said.
Shane said something in Tibetan.
Dani didn’t ask for a translation.
“You still insist on going?” he asked, but without real hope.
“Yes.”
“It’s going to be hell, lady. I promise that you’ll roast in the fires with me.”
― Ann Maxwell, Shadow and Silk