When was the last time he had felt such sexual tension, such sensual pleasure?

He couldn’t remember.

But he did remember how inappropriate this was. He had no business kissing her. He had no business touching her or thinking about her in this way. She was trapped and in danger, and his life literally was not his own.

She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t trust him. He couldn’t trust himself.

It was nearly impossible to pull away from her giving responsiveness. Breathing hard, he lifted his head and said hoarsely, “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have done that.”

With a soft growl, she sank her fingers in his hair and raised herself up so that she could kiss him back. This time she was the aggressor, and as she darted her tongue into his mouth, his erection tightened to the point of pain. Each of her fingers sent tingling sensations across his scalp, while her lips shifted and moved over his in an irresistible siren’s call.

For long moments, he lost himself in her. As he ran one hand down the side of her torso, she arched herself up to his touch like a cat asking to be stroked. He wanted—needed—to tear off her clothes and lose himself in the voluptuous heat of her slender, muscular body.

But in a distant corner of his mind, unease began to jangle. It grew louder quickly.

They had gone from one impulsive kiss to a level of raw, urgent need that was unbalanced and dangerous. If only he could remember why it was so dangerous…

He dragged his mouth away from hers. It was much harder to do the second time around, and both of them were breathing raggedly.

For long moments, they each held tense. He couldn’t force his fingers to relax and let go of her.

He wanted to never let go of her.

That last thought was like a bucket of cold water hitting him in the face.

If there was anyone in the entire world who shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like that, it was him.

As his hands loosened, she gave a little ghost of a laugh. In a shaken whisper, she said, “That escalated fast.”

“Too fast,” he gritted. “I had no business kissing you like that.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly object, did I?” she pointed out. She slid her fingers out of his hair with a slow sensuousness that heated his blood.

Catching one of her hands, he kissed it. “No,” he agreed against her fingers. “You didn’t. And I didn’t want to stop. But this isn’t going to get you through your audience with Isabeau. That’s what we need to focus on right now.”

Straightening on the footstool, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Of course it is,” she agreed in a flat, dull voice.

Had he hurt her feelings? He rubbed his face then decided to let it go, because even if he had, it didn’t matter.

Reaching for the lute, he thrust it into her hands. “Time to find out if that spell will actually work,” he told her.

Cradling the lute against her chest, she asked, “And if it doesn’t?”

If it didn’t, he had no idea what to try next.

Infusing his voice with a confidence he didn’t feel, he said, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Chapter Twelve

Sid knew she was still embroiled in a fight to stay out of prison. A fight to save her life. She knew she had no business necking like a teenager with a man she knew so little about.

But kissing him had been the best thing that had happened to her in a long time. The absolute very best thing.

And as she looked back over her work-driven life, she realized she didn’t just mean the very best thing from the time she’d been kidnapped. Kissing him had been the best thing to happen in a really, really long time.

She had dated a total of four men somewhat seriously in her life, and she had shared intimacy with two of them. That wasn’t exactly a memorable dating score, but as she had a difficult time being social anyway, she had never gotten too worked up over it.

She was pretty, and she knew it. She also knew most men who were initially attracted to her because of her looks were put off by the intense laser focus she had on her career. And Magic Man was right—she was stubborn and single-minded.

She was ambitious too, and all that meant she wasn’t exactly good wife or baby-making material. She had never really understood when other women talked about their biological clocks ticking. She wasn’t convinced she had a biological clock.

Neither one of her previous lovers had made her catch fire the way Magic Man did. It didn’t matter what he said, or even what her own mind insisted. Her body trusted him. When he touched her, she relaxed. When he’d stroked down her torso, pleasure had followed in a languid wash of fire.

And she had discovered it didn’t matter what he might look like to the eye. He was handsome to her fingertips, and his body felt strong and powerful when he came flush against her. He was easy to talk to, to confide in, and he had a kind of confidence in his own abilities, both magical and otherwise, that was incredibly sexy. He had a strong, sure touch, while his hands were gentle and sensitive. And he was not only experienced, he was intelligent—possibly even much more intelligent than she.

Other than the fact that Isabeau had a magical hold over him that he didn’t consent to, she didn’t know anything about what he did, or what his job was. She didn’t know his name. She didn’t know what he looked like, or who his friends were, what places he liked to frequent, what his hobbies were… or even if he had any hobbies.

Under normal circumstances, she would have never considered letting him kiss her, or kissing him back. But currently she was embroiled in a situation that was anything but normal. Normal didn’t apply to her life anymore.

Right now all she wanted to do was neck in the dark with a man she didn’t know, and when he put on the brakes—and rightfully so—then all she wanted to do was sulk. She was tired of thinking in crisis mode, tired of living with stress.

Her body craved pleasure and it instinctively knew he could give it to her. Her soul craved comfort, and it was unbelievably comforting to touch him, and to have him touch her. Her mind just wanted to switch off.

But no, they had to focus on keeping her whole and unbroken, and keeping her ass out of prison.

Bah!

Magic Man didn’t pull her back against his chest again, although she really kind of wanted him to.

Maybe more than kind of wanted.