Page 42 of Under a Dancing Star

“It has?”

“I’ve thought of nothing else.” The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Klaus really does not have the build to be wearing a toga in public.”

I bite back a laugh. “I was talking about the kiss.”

“Mmmmm,” Ben murmurs, his eyes moving to my mouth. “Now that was quite the revelation.” He stretches, looking pleased with himself. “A good introduction to kisses, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

I feel a flicker of annoyance. After all, I had something to do with it too.

“Well, yes,” I say briskly. “It was adequate.”

“Adequate?” His mouth drops open.

“Yes.” I wave my hand. “I’m sure that next time it will be more…” I pause, pursing my lips, schooling my features into something thoughtful.

“More what?” he demands icily.

“I don’t know,” I muse, “just … well, more.”

He surges to his feet, laughter and outrage writ large on his face and I enjoy a moment of victory before I find myself kissing him. Again.

I don’t know who kisses who first this time, but it’s as if there was no gap between this kiss and the one last night. His hands cradle my face and just like that, all of the want, all of the blissful, delicious sensation of last night surges instantly through my body at his touch, like a fuse immediately alight.

When we finally break apart, Ben eyes me with something like reproach. “Adequate, indeed,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” I say, with a breathless laugh, “but you looked so horribly smug, Ben. I couldn’t resist.”

He resumes his seat, and I sit beside him, pulling my legs up so that I can cross them. For some reason this second kiss seems to have broken through my nerves. I don’t really understand why because, if anything, the ferocity of it should have been unsettling. Instead, it is as though the ice has been broken. Well, less broken and more completely and utterly melted.

“A successful result,” I say. “The first time could have been an anomaly, but it seems not.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Ben says, looking at me as though he’s not quite sure what I’m going to say next.

“I’m glad,” I say, pulling a notebook from my pocket and opening it. I pick up his abandoned book to rest it on. “Because I have quite a few questions.”

Ben looks startled. “Questions?”

I regard him through narrowed eyes. “You’ve obviously never taken part in an experiment before,” I say. “Collating accurate information is very important.”

“I can think of more important things,” he says huskily, his hand on my knee.

“Oh, really?” I ask, producing a pencil from my pocket and holding it over the paper. “And what might they be?”

There’s a pause and Ben shakes his head in exasperation, removing his hand.

“Why don’t we just start with your questions?” he says, finally, his tone resigned.

“All right,” I agree. “First of all. The kiss. We have established that it was somewhat above adequate…”

“We have.”

“But it would be helpful if you could provide more detail about your response.”

“Such as?” Ben raises his eyebrows.

“Well, you have a much larger sample for comparison. I have only been kissed once before and it was not terribly successful. Our teeth seemed to knock together too much, and it was a bit … wet.”

“I’m pleased to hear that this experience was an improvement,” Ben says faintly.