A laugh startled from his throat.“I have no idea.”
She clasped her hands together in excitement.“Then I get to name it because I saw it first.”She cupped her hands about her mouth and tilted her chin toward the sky.“I dub thee… ‘Duke.’”
His mouth fell open.“You cannot give two astral bodies the same name.”
She pointed at Draco in triumph.“So, you agree that one is already named Duke?”
“Aargh.”He buried his face in his hands.
“In that case it’s still my comet, and I name her… Vixen.”
He jerked his head up.“You can’t name a comet ‘Vixen!’”
“Where are you getting your rules?”she asked innocently.
“Science?”he countered.
She waved a hand.“Bah.When has science helped anyone?”
“You are completely barmy,” he said.“Has anyone ever mentioned that you are stark, raving mad?”
“Besides you?”she asked.“Only everyone who’s ever come on the sky-walk.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said.“Your complete lack of celestial knowledge would fit right in over in London.Did you have a Season?”
“One,” she said softly.
He frowned.“I cannot imagine you unsuccessful at attracting a suitor.Any man who took the time to get to know you—”
“I did have a suitor.But after he sailed off to make his fortune, neither the contract nor my charms were enough to bring him back.”
His lip curled in contempt.“What could possibly be more important thanyou?”
The unintentional sweetness of the question squeezed her chest with surprising power.
Pride did not allow her to list the innumerable attractions her suitor had found more attractive: India, adventure, money.Anything but a marriage to her.
“Perhaps he still plans to return someday,” she attempted to jest.
His dark gaze was hot on hers.“He doesn’t deserve the chance.Please tell me you are not waiting around for that imbecile to saunter back into your life.”
She shook her head.“Not for a long time.”
“Good,” he said fiercely, and slanted his mouth over hers.
She melted into him.He was incensed on her behalf, every muscle tensed as though preparing to leap up to protect her from harm right here and now.But his kiss told another story.His mouth hadn’t come to hers in anger, but desire.As though the electricity building between them had struck to galvanize them together.
He cradled her face in his hands.His kiss was not tentative or polite but raw.A blatant claiming.Not a bright spot in the night, but a sky full of shooting stars.Instead of promises, each kiss demanded complete possession.She was happy to oblige.
She parted her lips and offered him more.He wasted no time in tasting her.In proving once and for all how right the wrong man could feel.His kisses were potent.Drugging.She gripped him for strength—and because she didn’t want the kisses to stop.He tasted like danger and romance and possibility.As though the stars had come out just for them.
At last, he lifted his lips from hers.“Miss Godwin…”
“Gloria,” she corrected.Or meant to.It came out as a peep.
He smiled and touched his forehead to hers.“I’m Christopher, and I would very much like to keep kissing you.”
She reached for him.“Please do.”
