“I’m getting the feeling that romance was not a big thing at the Ballantine Academy.”
“That just goes to show how little you know about the Ballantine Method. I’ll have you know I taught a sex ed class.”
He looked stunned. And then he started to smile. “You did?”
“Yes, I did. And while we’re on the subject, I think you should know that I want to kiss you, too.”
“You do realize that we’re starting to sound like a couple of AI machines trying to negotiate a sexual encounter.”
“Yes, but I don’t feel like an AI machine.”
“Neither do I.”
“I think we’re both a little confused and disoriented.”
“Nope. I’m not confused or disoriented. I know exactly where I’m trying to go.”
She smiled. “So do I.”
He started to pull her closer but she was already hurling herself into his arms. The result was that she was suddenly crushed against his unyielding chest and his mouth was covering hers in a scorching kiss that rezzed the thrill level to new and dazzling heights. It was as if fireworks were suddenly going off in the middle of the hotel room. Although she had never experienced the phenomenon the novels and the poets termedaura resonance, she was sure that was what was happening now.
“Oh, yeah,” Owen said against her lips. “I knew it would be like this.”
“What—?”
There was more to the question, but she couldn’t get the words out because his mouth had taken possession of hers again and her senses were flaring. She wanted to explore the sensations that were swirling through her, but she could not seem to focus.
He tightened his hold on her and deepened the kiss. She gave up trying to analyze her reactions. The room spun around her. She realized he had picked her up and was carrying her to her bed—the big one.
“To hell with Core Principle Number One,” she whispered.
“Remind me, what is Core Principle Number One?”
“Do not mistake impulse for true intuition.”
“You’re right. To hell with it.”
He fell onto the bed, taking her with him. She sprawled across him in what was no doubt an undignified and ungraceful manner, but the position made her keenly aware of his erection. He really did want her, she thought, at least on the physical level.
He caught her face in his hands. “You feel so good.”
She started to lower her mouth to his, intensely aware of the erotic clash of their auras. Whatever was happening between their energy fieldshad to be the paranormal equivalent of the Old World dance called the tango.
Owen groaned and slid his hands under the top of her pajamas. The feel of his palms on her bare skin sent frissons of pleasure across her nerve endings.
The ominous rumble of Owen’s phone might as well have been the crack of doom. They both froze.
Owen moved first. “Talk about lousy timing.” He eased her to the side and sat up. “If that’s the reporter from theCurtain, I will cancel my subscription.”
She was startled to hear herself give a small, shaky laugh.
Owen got to his feet, crossed the room to the table near the bed, and scooped up his phone. He glanced at the screen.
“It’s Twitchell.”
Her insides turned to ice. She sat up slowly, pulse racing. She never took her eyes off Owen. He put the phone on speaker.
“We need to talk.”
