Montana Passions. Allison Leigh

didn’t even consider resisting—why should she? Maybe she’d had her doubts about him at first. But gently and tenderly, he’d dispelled her reservations. She knew she could trust him now.

      He wrapped those long, hard arms around her and she pressed herself close to him, tucking her head under his chin, laying her ear against the leaping reindeers on the front of his sweater, right over his heart, which beat steady and strong, if a little too fast. She smiled to herself—a woman’s smile. His embrace brought more comfort than words could. And the sound of his heartbeat, racing in time to hers?

      That wasn’t comforting, not in the least. That sound thrilled her. It stole her breath.

      She hoped—she prayed—that everyone else trapped by the storm was at least safe and warm with plenty to eat.

      For herself, though, there was no place she would rather be than right here in the Thunder Canyon Historical Museum held close and safe in Justin’s arms.

      For herself, she was beginning to believe that getting snowed-in with Caleb’s business associate was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

      She felt his lips against her hair and snuggled closer. “Justin?”

      “Hmm?”

      She tipped her head up to find those blue eyes waiting.

      And his lips…

      It just seemed the most natural thing. To lift her mouth, to let her eyes drift shut.

      His mouth touched hers—so lightly. Heat flared and flowed through her. Her lips burned. Her pulse raced.

      Then he lifted away.

      She didn’t want that.

      Oh, no. She wanted more. Much more.

      “Justin?” She opened her eyes to look up at him again.

      “Hmm?”

      “Justin, do you like kissing me?”

      He muttered something very low, probably a swear word. “I do. I like it too damn much.”

      “I like kissing you, too,” she confessed. “I like it a lot.”

      His gaze scanned her face. “So…?”

      She slid her hands up to encircle his neck. “Please. Kiss me some more.”

      “Katie,” he whispered, and that was all. Then his mouth swooped down and covered hers.

      Chapter Six

      They kissed, standing there at the window, with the white hush of the snow drifting down outside, for the longest, sweetest time. When Justin finally lifted his head, he asked, husky and low, “Convinced?”

      She blinked up at him. “Of what?”

      “That I like kissing you?”

      She pretended to consider that question—which, truthfully, required no consideration at all—and then at last, she said, “I think you should kiss me again—just to make sure.”

      “Ah. To make sure…”

      “That’s right.”

      He cupped her face—cradled it, really. His hands were warm and cherishing against her cheeks. And then he lowered his head again and his mouth touched hers and…

      Oh, there was nothing like it. Kissing Justin.

      Kissing Justin was everything kissing ought to be. His mouth played on hers and his arms slid around her to hold her close and she felt his heart beating, hard and steady, against her breasts, keeping pace with hers.

      That time, when he lifted his head, she said in a voice gone husky with pleasure, “I’m getting it now. You like kissing me.”

      “Yeah. I do.”

      And to prove it, he kissed her again—a hard, deep, long one that melted her midsection and turned her knees to rubber.

      She clutched his shoulders and sagged against him, feeling very aroused, totally shameless. She liked this feeling. She liked it a lot. There was so much she’d been missing. Not anymore, though. “I don’t know. If you’re going to keep kissing me, I might just have to sit down.”

      “Let me help you with that.” He grabbed the nearest chair, spun it around and dropped into it—pulling her with him, onto his lap.

      Her breath hitched as she landed.

      “Better?” he asked.

      “Oh, I think…”

      He nuzzled her neck, pressed a burning kiss at the place where her pulse beat close to the skin. A lovely shiver went through her and she sighed.

      “You think what?” He breathed the words against her throat—and then he caught her earlobe between his teeth. He worried it, lightly, as she clutched his shoulders and sighed some more.

      “Oh, Justin…”

      His tongue touched the place where his teeth had been, a velvety moist caress. He licked the tender hollow behind her earlobe. Briefly, with the very tip of that bold tongue, he dipped into her ear.

      She let out a low moan. She was supposed to be telling him…something. The question was what. “I…well…”

      He threaded his fingers up into her hair and he brushed a line of butterfly-light kisses along her jaw. “What you think…”

      “Think?” The word sounded alien. Not surprising. At that moment, thinking was the last thing on her mind.

      He cradled the back of her head, holding her still, bringing his mouth a breath’s distance from hers. “You were telling me…what you think…”

      “I…well…”

      One corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing smile. “Well, what?”

      “I forgot.” And she had.

      She’d forgotten everything. Nothing mattered, at that moment, but this man and the drugging pleasure of his hands on her body, his mouth so close to hers. “Kiss me. Again.”

      He obeyed. His mouth covered hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with boundless enthusiasm.

      This time when they came up for air, he took her by the waist and held her away from him. “We’d better stop.” His voice was rough—almost curt.

      She started to argue. She didn’t want to stop. But maybe he was right. Where could they go from here, except to the bed with the pineapple finials?

      Was she ready for that yet?

      As much as she liked kissing him and feeling his hands on her body…as much as she liked him…as much as she couldn’t help but start to think that there was something very special going on here, between them…

      That was a big, fat…maybe. Even given what she’d decided that morning—about the lack of sex of any kind in her life, about how she was going to stop being a cliché. Even given all that, well, they didn’t need to rush this, did they? There was nothing that said they couldn’t take their time. Though she was determined to get herself a sex life one of these days very soon—and with Justin—she was old-fashioned in some ways. She believed making love should be special. And it shouldn’t be rushed.

      He smoothed a wild curl of hair off her cheek. “Listen.” His eyes teased—and burned, too. “I want you to get up. And I want you to do it very carefully.”

      She frowned, and then she understood. Oh, my. Yes. She could feel him and it was just like out in the shed the day before. He was very happy to be near her.

      “Oh. Oh, well. You’re, uh—”

      “Katie.”

      “Uh.