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“A minor technicality.”

He grins, and my stomach does something completely undignified.

God help me, I love this man.

“Keys,” he says.

I fish them from my purse and unlock the door.

He carries me inside, kicks it shut behind him, and finally sets me on my feet.

Then he looks at me.

Really looks at me.

And all the teasing drains from his expression.

“Wren.”

Oh, that voice.

Deep. Rough. Dangerous to my ability to think straight.

“Yes?”

“I would very much like to kiss you.”

I smile.

“You’ve kissed me before.”

“Not the way I intend to kiss you now.”

My pulse skips.

“Well, that’s quite a sales pitch.”

He steps closer.

I step backward.

His mouth curves.

“Are you retreating, little flower?”

“Strategically repositioning.”

“An admirable military tactic.”

My back meets the wall.

He plants one enormous hand beside my head, leaving plenty of room for me to move.

“Unfortunately,” he murmurs, “you have run out of territory.”

I tilt my chin.

“Maybe I wanted you to catch me.”