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“Thank you,” she got out.
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
Nodding, he opened the door. “Lock the door behind me.”
“Seriously. I don’t need you looking after me as well. I have a brother and a cousin, I don’t—”
That was as far as she got. The next moment, a big hand cupped her face. “I’m very glad I’m neither your brother nor your cousin,” he said before he lowered his head.
She should move, push him away, say something, but instead, she watched, stunned, as his lips came closer and closer until their mouths were nearly touching.
“If you don’t want me to kiss you, now’s the time to push me away,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over her face, his hot breath caressing her skin. “Did you know you have exactly three freckles on the bridge of your nose? And on this cheek there are…”
Whether it was the glass of wine she’d had earlier, the song they’d danced to still running through her mind or the heat from Mitch’s body, she didn’t know, but ignoring the near hysterical voice warning her to step away, she lifted herself on her toes.
Mitch’s eyes flashed once before his mouth covered hers.
His lips were hot, urgent, and within seconds, she was clinging to him, desperately worried he’d stopped. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss, and as if she’d done it a hundred times before, she stepped in between his legs.
His body was made for hers was her last coherent thought before Mitch’s tongue shot through to the depths of her mouth where hers was eagerly waiting for the dance.
Warm hands slid over her back, molding her against him, but it wasn’t enough; she needed to touch him to become a part of him…
Shocked, she pulled her head away. His eyes had darkened, both the blue and brown eyes nearly black with desire as he gasped for breath.
“This is crazy,” she got out. “You have to go.”
He slid his hands down her arms. “Is that really what you want?”
Finally, sanity prevailed. Hastily, she stepped back. “Yes, it is. I’m going to forget this ever happened. I suggest you do the same.”
“Forget I kissed you?”
“Blame it on the night, the romance of a wedding…”
“The wine, the music?” he asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.
“Exactly. Good night, Mitch. Thank you for your help.”
Opening the door, she waited for him to leave.
She was just about to close the door when he spoke again. “What if we don’t?”
“Don’t what?”
“Forget about the kiss?”
Without answering him, she closed the door. She waited there until she could hear the engine of his car fade away.
Nearly frantic, she ran to her room and pulled the suitcase out she’d brought along. That… whatever that was, could never happen again. The day before, Mitch had only been someone who mildly irritated her—now…
Inhaling deeply, she tried to clear her head. She was not going to think about Mitch one second longer. She and Dylan were leaving first thing tomorrow. In Portland, a whole new life was waiting for them.
*
Mitch threw hiscar keys on the only table in his house. He couldn’t go back to the wedding; he needed time to clear his head.
