The scent of his skin filled her nostrils, binding them closer together. She wanted to inhale him all the way down to her core and let him fill her up. The roughness of his chin excited her, along with his hard jaw and the thick, roping muscles of his back. He felt so different from any man she’d ever kissed before: more masculine, more powerful, more demanding—and more giving.
Passion crackled in his touch, and she could hear it in his breath. He was a king—or almost king—with an entire country at his command, and he was totally immersed in kissing her, Samantha Bechtel, mild-mannered producer of public television documentaries who didn’t have a scrap of makeup on and who had been wearing the same easy-care travel attire all day long.
His fingers pressed into the flesh of her hips, and her body responded with a flare of heat at its core. They’d done nothing but kiss yet already she felt thoroughly ravished.
And she wanted more.