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slowly, testing out the words as he spoke them.
    She
nodded, dropping her eyelids and then slanting a look back up to him in that
deliciously provocative way she had.
    He
was almost certain it was unconscious. If she used that look on men
purposefully, then she would have any man in the world at her beck and call.
    “I’ll
try harder to be nice,” she said, a note of irony in her tone that made him
want to smile.
    He
stared down at her, suddenly hit by the almost irresistible urge to kiss her.
His whole body pulsed with it, and he had to clench his fist at his side to
keep from reaching out for her.
    She
sucked in a breath. For a moment, Philip thought she’d recognized what was on
his mind, but then she said, “You might consider being a little nicer yourself,
you know.”
    “I
have been perfectly nice,” he replied, knowing as he said the words that they
were a lie. He was smart and driven and occasionally obsessed.
    He
was very rarely nice.
    “You
haven’t been nice at all," she argued. "And, if you expect me to not
snap your head off all the time, you’re going to have to reciprocate.”
    “I
haven’t once snapped your head off.” For some insane reason, he was enjoying
the almost whimsical give-and-take of the argument. It had been a really long
time since he’d enjoyed banter for the sake of banter.
    “You’ve
been cold and condescending, which anyone will tell you is worse than snapping
one’s head off.”
    He
knew her words were true, but he wasn’t about to acknowledge it. “I would like
to see some evidence of this coldness and condescension you purport.”
    Her
lips twitched helplessly as she tried to suppress a smile, her humor obviously
tickled by his dry, lofty response.
    Unlike
the previous night, she lost the battle. Her face broke into a glowing smile,
and she turned her head to hide it behind the hair slipping out of her clip.
    “Damn
it, Philip,” she gritted out, her voice shaking with what sounded like
laughter. “You’re just impossible.”
    Philip
was mesmerized—by the soft warmth in her face, by the laughter in her voice,
and by the cleverness and wit that were utterly irrepressible in her.
    He
took a step closer and, without thinking, brought a hand up to brush the hair
out of her face so he could see more of her expression. “That claim is too
abstract to be verified and can thus be immediately dismissed,” he murmured,
something coiling tightly inside him.
    Laughter
rippled out of her, clear evidence that he'd scored a victory. “Damn you, Philip,”
she said at last.
    She
hadn’t pulled away, even though he hadn’t lowered his hand. Her eyes slowly
transformed from amusement to something hotter as she gazed up at him.
    Acting
only on instinct, he leaned down and brushed her lips with his.
    He
heard her quick intake of breath. Then he felt one of her hands flatten against
his chest.
    But
she wasn’t pushing him away, and her lips softened against his as he brushed
them again.
    The
kiss deepened so quickly Philip had no idea how it happened. Pleasure and need
uncoiled inside him, and he took her head in both of his hands. One of Lucy’s
arms wrapped around his neck, and he could feel all of her soft warmth against
his body.
    She
opened for him, and then their tongues tangled together. The whole world pulsed
with pleasure, with hunger, as he gave himself over to the kiss.
    He
heard her moan softly against his mouth, and his body tightened in response.
    He
wanted her. He couldn’t remember wanting anything more.
    Then
suddenly she pulled away from him, one hand going up to cover her mouth.
    Philip
stood stiffly and blinked, muddle-headed and halfway aroused. He’d clearly lost
his mind for a few minutes, and he wasn’t sure how to get it back
    She
stared at him in silence for a long moment, something almost aching in her eyes,
despite her panting breaths and her deeply flushed cheeks. Then she said in a
hoarse whisper, “Damn you, Philip.”
    It
wasn’t laughter in