"Morning."
Cilla was glad she was able to speak. She put the pan from the scones in the sink and turned around, almost afraid of what she would see. Did he regret last night? Well, he wouldn't have greeted her this way if he had, right? Slowly, she turned around. When she did, he was so close to her only a sheet of paper could have slid between them. The same heat she'd seen in his eyes last night was there today, flaming in his melted-chocolate irises.
He studied her face for a moment, as if striving to read her state of mind. Then he cradled her cheeks in his palms and lowered his head to press a kiss to her mouth. The contact was even more scorching, if that was possible. He used the tip of his tongue to part her lips, sweeping inside when she did. Her temperature gauge went from zero
