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“Lightly, he fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. When her lips parted in surprise, he knew he should have pulled away. But at that moment, his hand instinctively came down on her shoulder in a possessive gesture. Without looking away, she backed out of his grasp. "Ruairi..." "Ravenna, before I change my mind, I verra much want to kiss ye right now." God help her. His words would be her undoing. Ravenna wondered what it would be like to feel the warmth of Ruairi's lips, the strength of his touch. She forced herselt to settle down. She needed to stop thinking - now. Because no matter how much she tried to deny it, she wanted him to kiss her too. His hands slipped up her arms, bringing her closer. Ravenna vowed not to become too involved with him. She couldn't. She shouldn't. Oh, bloody hell. He lowered his mouth to hers, and his lips were more persuasive than she cared to admit. The sweet taste of ale lingered on his breath. His kiss was urgent, and she was shocked at her own response to his touch. He seared a path down her neck, her shoulders, and then his lips recaptured hers. Ruairi took her mouth with savage intensity, forcing her lips open with his thrusting tongue. Her knees weakened, and if not for the support of his hand at her back, she would have fallen.” — Victoria Roberts