From This Day Forward. Christie Ridgway

they understand what the giggles were all about.

      Annie introduced Griffin to their smiling host, Jeff, and then the man explained what was happening. “It’s a party game,” he said, gesturing at the video camera set up on a tripod in the entry. “Everyone who attends as a couple is kissing on tape. We’ll play the whole thing later and award prizes.”

      Jeff wiggled his eyebrows and his grin widened. “You know, best, worst, coldest, hottest.”

      Uh-oh, Griffin thought. He looked over at Annie.

      She wasn’t looking at him. “We don’t want to play,” she said quickly. Still without meeting his eyes, she took hold of Griffin’s forearm and tried tugging him through the entry.

      Jeff blocked their way, his good-natured grin still in place. “C’mon Annie. Be a good sport. It’s not fun unless everybody plays.”

      She frowned, shaking her head.

      But Jeff wouldn’t give up. He elbowed Griffin in the ribs. “Griffin. You tell her. You gotta play. And you wanta play, right?”

      Oh, hell. What was a man supposed to say? He knew Annie wasn’t keen on kissing him for the camera. But they were holding up the line behind them by refusing and people were gathering closer to see what was happening. So with all these partygoers looking on he was supposed to disagree with Jeff and say that he didn’t want to kiss Annie?

      Both the rock and the hard place pinched like hell.

      “What’s the big deal about one kiss?” he murmured to Annie. He took her hand in his—her fingers were almost insultingly cold—and drew her beside the wall Jeff indicated.

      While the other man fiddled with the video camera, Annie looked up at Griffin and spoke through her teeth. “I don’t want to do this,” she said. “I feel…silly.”

      With his forefinger he notched her chin an inch higher. “Better silly than a party-pooper.”

      “Go ahead guys!”

      At Jeff’s command, Griffin obediently bent. He focused on the soft pink of Annie’s lips and tried gauging just what kind of kiss it would have to be. Short enough to maintain their dignity, but long enough to prove her desirability, he thought. Annie wouldn’t thank him for making it appear he wanted to get it over with.

      As he closed in, she let out an almost panicked rush of breath. It puffed mintily against his mouth and mingled with that cinnamony scent of hers. He cupped her shoulders with his hands and felt her stiffen. “Relax,” he whispered, then brushed his lips against hers.

      She tasted sweet, but she kept her lips primmed and stiff as he brushed by them softly again. Griffin gave a mental frown. At this rate they’d win the prize for best boring kiss.

      Damn it. Male pride made him want to avoid looking as if he’d lost his touch with women. And didn’t Annie claim she’d come here as a seeker of love? Well, no one of the opposite sex would be seeking either one of them back if they didn’t demonstrate their ability to provide a halfway decent kiss.