Adam's thumb lingered at the corner of her mouth, his chest rising and falling as if he'd run a mile. He had expected her to keep him at arm's length, to apologize and retreat into her shell again. But instead she stayed close, her palms sliding up the front of his shirt, fingers brushing the collar like a secret caress.
"You know," she murmured against his lips, eyes flicking up through her lashes, "you're very bossy when you're worried."
The teasing note in her voice startled a low laugh out of him. "Bossy?"
"Yes," she said, lips curving, "but in a way that makes me want to be bad on purpose." She tilted her head just enough for her breath to graze his jaw, and Adam felt something warm and electric surge through his veins.
He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a chuckle. "Careful, Mrs. Ravenstrong, you're flirting."
"Maybe I am," she whispered, eyes glittering now with a softness he hadn't seen in days. "Do you mind?"
