There was no slow build. No peaceful meander to the summit. It was like sheet lighting stretching across a stormy sky—beautiful and blinding. I leaned forward and seized his mouth with mine.

Not only were my nerves shot, but my body was a traitor. I didn’t want to melt against him. I didn’t want to enjoy the feeling of his lips sliding across my skin. I didn’t want to like the possessive way his fingers dug into my waist or the way his erection pressed against me.

One month. Thirty days. I could bury myself in my art and forget the feel of his lips sliding across mine. I could forget the scent of his cologne, the way my body reacted when he touched me. I sighed. Thirty days suddenly seemed like an eternity.

It’s always the ones we’re not supposed to have who are the most irresistible.

We’ll have to go back there one day, the both of us. You can show my all your favorite places.”“Silly man,” I laughed and pulled his face down to mine. “You are my favorite place.