Her eyes widened. Even before he'd caught them between his fingers, her lips had fallen open so most of the pins spilled. Except for one, which she clamped her shocked lips shut on.
Bending his head he caught it, expertly. Standing there, while his mouth brushed hers, the faint feel of his breath mingling with her own, as opposed to her sinking to the floor in a heap of white cotton, was an exercise in willpower even she had never known.
Her heart skipped a beat as he rolled the pin on his tongue, another as he turned his head. When he flicked it onto the rug, then bent his head in order to cover her mouth with his, only years of careful training allowed her to keep her face a mask-just.
Only for the papers did she do this. Only for the papers.
Because whatever kind of man he was, he
