Page 43 of Juliet's Touch

One side of Eric Stone’s mouth quirked upward before straightening.

“Do you think me horribly wanton?” she asked.

He stepped so close that only a few inches of space remained between them. Heat from his large body enveloped her as his gaze slid to her lips. “I think you are perfect.”

Still focused on her mouth, he lowered his head until their noses were only a few inches apart. Good lord, he was going to kiss her.

She had to stop this madness because she couldn’t go around kissing men willy-nilly—even the ones who saved her.

She meant to step away, but her legs froze, and her lips involuntarily puckered.

On second thought, he had kept her from splatting on the floor. And he didn’t seem to care that she’d kissed a stranger. Besides, what harm was one little kiss after she’d almost died? She tilted her head back and lifted onto her toes as invisible butterflies tickled her insides.

His raw groan blew across her cheek. And then, his lips touched hers.