Free North Star by Angeline M. Bishop

to Graham and stared into his striking coal eyes, smoldering with fire. What was he waiting for? “You’re right,” she murmured. “I feel better but...”
    “Yes,” he breathed as his lips neared hers.
    “What is going on between us?”
    “Only what you want to happen. What do you need, Caresse?”
    She inhaled and swallowed hard at his words. She wanted him. The evidence was clear, and she suspected every bit of him wanted her.
    Another delightful shiver of wanting ran through her as he searched her gray eyes and tilted her face up to his own. Then he lowered his head and moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness. His kiss was urgent and exploratory as she began to respond. His cinnamon-flavored tongue darted into her needy mouth for a few seconds before Caresse ended the kiss abruptly.
    “Graham,” she breathed, full of shock and amazement. She found herself filled with guilt for enjoying her kiss with a stranger.
    “Don’t pull away,” he whispered.
    “We’ve just met,” she chided him.
    “But my family’s under the impression we’ve known each other for a while,” he whispered, then ran a finger down the curve of her arm.
    “So you’re using that to take advantage of me?”
    “No. I would never do that,” he murmured as he gathered her into his arms and placed her on his lap. “I never want you to feel obligated to me.”
    With the tip of one of her caramel-colored fingers, she traced the lips that had kissed her. They were coaxing and firm to the touch. She studied him and began to bite her bottom lip slightly as uneasiness stirred in her heart.
    “Frightened?” Graham asked, fingering the ebony tendrils by her neck.
    “Of men? Never!” Caresse said, playfully annoyed.
    “Not of men.” He turned off the flashlight in his hand and took her hand in his. “Of me.”
    She scanned the darkened room, lit by seven tea-light candles. Four were on the mantle of the fireplace and three were resting on the coffee table in front of them. The roaring sounds of the storm could be heard from the open window on the far side of the room.
    “We need to get to the reason why we’re meeting tonight, Mr. Sheridan.”
    “I told you to call me Graham. And I would prefer you answer my question.”
    After a moment, she said, “No. I’m not scared of you.”
    “Then why did you pull away? Are you married?”
    “No.”
    “Engaged?”
    “No.”
    “Do you have an irate boyfriend I need to be concerned about?”
    “No, of course not.”
    “What is it? Is it purely the principle of manners in our way?”
    “Graham, I’m not sure what you’re after, but I’m not interested in a relationship,” she replied indignantly.
    “Why’s that?”
    “Let’s say I prefer my solitude.”
    “Your kiss states otherwise.” He sounded half-convinced.
    “It’s not the first time someone’s mind and body were in disagreement now, is it?”
    “Who are you trying to convince, Caresse? You or me?”
    Before she could answer, Graham covered her lips with his. He slowly traced her lips with his tongue as his hands caressed her back. At first, she sat there rigid, trying not to react, but he continued to kiss and tease her lips apart until all of her defenses weakened.
    She offered him her open mouth, which encouraged him to kiss her with wild abandon. Before she knew it, her arms encircled his neck. For a moment, she let her senses absorb him. He felt like intensity. Unpredictable and thrilling. He tasted like wanting. Hot and passionate. And when she felt him groan into her mouth, she knew desire’s sound.
    His lips were more persuasive than she cared to admit. She felt her body react instantly when he pulled her closer. Instinctively, she arched her body toward him as her tongue mated with his and her arms tightened around his neck.
    “I hate to spoil your fun, kids, but we need to settle the sleeping arrangements.”
    Roland’s booming voice startled Caresse. She forced herself from Graham’s embrace