His lips twitched.
“He is,” she insisted.
“Either you haven’t kissed very many men…” He paused and his gaze turned sharp and assessing. She wondered if he’d laugh if he knew James was the only man she’d ever kissed. “Or you have extremely low expectations.”
“I suppose you think you could do better.” The words were out and hanging in the air between them before she could stop them.
His gaze lowered to her lips. “I don’t think. I know I could.”
Sara’s mouth went dry and her heart raced.
Crow moved across the room until he stood in front of her, so close she could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne, so close she could see his eyes weren’t black but brown with flecks of hazel, so close if she moved one step forward she’d be in his arms.
“Arrogance is a sin,” she said softly.
“I’m not arrogant.” He brushed back a strand of her hair with one finger and leaned forward. “I’m confident.”
His lips brushed her cheek on their slow journey to her mouth. It was now or never. All she had to do was step back or say no.
But his breath was warm against her face, and on second thought, what would one little kiss hurt? It wouldn’t lead to anything else. If he was confident of his ability to kiss, she was confident it wouldn’t affect her. What would be the harm?
She turned slightly, and her arms rose and encircled his neck, her fingers weaving through his soft curls.
Crow’s hands spanned her waist and he ran his palms up her sides.
Blood surged from her fingertips to her toes. She couldn’t wait any longer. Impulsively she kissed him lightly on the mouth.
He kissed the tip of her nose.
Her skin prickled pleasurably. She breathed a satisfied sigh. “That was very nice.”
He smiled and his eyes danced like bubbling chocolate. “That was just the preview.”
“Preview?”
“Of what’s to come.”
Without warning his mouth descended once again. His lips were more persuasive than she cared to admit, and she was shocked at her own eager response.
In the end it took all her strength to step from his arms. All her strength to flash him a nonchalant smile. And most of all, all her strength to walk away and act like the kiss hadn’t affected her at all.
Chapter Three
Sara rolled over and hit the snooze button, hoping to delay the inevitable for a few more minutes. But sleep eluded her and she finally had no choice but to open her eyes.
She lifted her lids slowly, knowing with the light would come the memories of last night. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of her wanton behavior.
What had possessed her to kiss Crow? She searched her brain for a plausible excuse. Had she been tired? Stressed? Insane?
Who was she kidding? Deep down she already knew the reason. She’d kissed him because she was attracted to him.
A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She threw back the quilt and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Attracted? To Crow?
Ridiculous.
Sara banished the crazy thought and sprang to her feet. She’d get dressed and then she’d think. She headed into the bathroom and rummaged through the drawer for her brush. She pulled it through her tangled blond hair with savage jerks, almost relishing the pain.
She couldn’t be attracted to someone like him. She simply couldn’t.
Gripping the sides of the sink, she took a deep breath and steadied herself. When she finally looked up into the mirror, she barely recognized the pathetic creature staring back at her.
The image was certainly a far cry from the confident young woman who’d stood on stage just a few months ago and accepted the Sheldon Award as New Artist of the Year.
Sara made a face. She’d kissed the guy. Big deal.
She wouldn’t do it again, that much was certain. Although… Her fingers rose to her lips and she couldn’t help but remember the warm sweetness of his kiss and how it had left her longing for more.
Don’t date a man you wouldn’t want to marry.
Meg’s motherly advice popped into her head. Although Sara wasn’t dating Crow, wouldn’t ever date Crow, Meg’s sage wisdom could be applied to kissing, as well.
Sara knew the type of man she wanted to marry. She wanted a man who was solid and dependable and a strong Christian. And if the guy was good-looking, so much the better.
Men like Crow with their tattoos, long hair and fiery kisses might be exciting, but they were nothing but trouble. Sara’s heart lifted. She comforted herself with the knowledge that the kiss with Crow was just a momentary lapse in judgment.
She quickly showered and dressed, pulling on a pair of khaki pants and a blue checked button-down shirt, that James always said made her eyes look more violet than blue. She headed down the stairs to breakfast. The door to the kitchen was partially ajar and Sara pushed it all the way open before she stopped abruptly.
Crow sat at the table like he owned the place, a mug of coffee in one hand, the morning news highlights on the tablet in front of him.
He glanced up briefly, his gaze shifting pointedly to the clock. “The day’s half-gone.”
Sara bristled not so much because she felt guilty over sleeping late, but because for some reason the mere sight of him irritated her. “It’s only ten-thirty.”
“I’ve been up since seven.”
Sara grabbed a sweet roll from a platter on the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Seven? Wow, I’m impressed.”
His only answer was an unintelligible grumble.
Sara smiled in satisfaction and took a seat at the table opposite him. “Did Meg call?”
Crow briefly tore his gaze from the news. “She called around eight. I told her you were still alive. She’ll be over later.”
Sara reached for the sugar and added a couple of teaspoonfuls to her coffee. She stirred it slowly, studying him from under her lashes. Who was this man who had unceremoniously invaded her world?
His ebony hair gleamed in the artificial light. It hung in loose waves past his shoulders. His tanned face was clean shaven and the hint of a spicy aftershave hung in the air between them. With his square jaw and ruggedly chiseled face, Sara was certain if he cut that hair and lost the scowl, he’d be magnificent.
She squinted, trying to visualize him with short hair.
He glanced up and his brows drew together. “Is something wrong?”
She took a bite of the Danish and ignored the warmth rising up her neck. “Why do you ask?”
“For a moment I thought you were giving me the evil eye.”
Sara choked on a raisin. She took a sip of coffee to wash it down and used the time to think of a response that made sense. “I was just trying to see what had you so engrossed.”
“It’s just a stupid article talking about Johnny Baker’s chances of making parole.” Crow shook his head in disgust. He pushed aside the tablet. “I’ve read enough.”
“Johnny Baker?” Sara paused, trying to place the name. “Wasn’t he that big drug dealer that went to prison a few years back?”
“That’s him.” Crow’s lips tightened.
“But I thought he had gotten ten years.” Sara remembered the case now.