His eyes smouldered with the same intensity I had seen only once before. His hand rose to the nape of my neck as if on its own accord while the other...hand lingered at the small of my back. The heat from his hands seeped into my bare skin warming me to the core and removing every last bit of remaining fear. He slowly leaned in, his breath warm on my face. He smelled like peppermint, cinnamon and that male scent that only he can claim to possess. Our lips touched and my world imploded. His lips. Two couples were out on the tiny floor, dancing to music provided by a talented, black musician, who was playing one of those trick pianos with a built-in rhythm section. I headed toward a convenient stool at the bar. Two men were seated several places away and I was pleased when they checked me out with obvious interest. I gave the room a quick once over, men outnumbered women about two to one. I remembered having seen something on the reader board in the lobby about a convention when I. More

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