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wanted, but he was not what she wanted. He was not the man she’d chosen, not the man she’d promised her future to.
    But as practical as common sense was, it could not force his mouth from hers.
    He didn’t try to stop her. He just let her in, let her devour him with a hunger he hadn’t anticipated, until her passion carried him away on the ride of his life.
    But there was more than just passion in her kiss. No matter how intensely he felt her lust, he sensed her ire, her fury and her disappointment too. It permeated her grasp, burning him as she dug her nails into his skin. It also echoed through his brain, vibrating in the groan of hurt and hunger she emitted as she kissed him.
    She tasted like the very wine she’d claimed not to have drunk—silky, smooth and fruity. The flavor was intoxicating, throwing his head into an instant spin. Like an alcoholic desperate for another drink, he kissed her back, as hard as she kissed him, indulging in her addictive taste.
    This was insane. Crazy. The woman was in pain. She was hurting, mourning the end of her marriage before it had even begun. He should be consoling her, comforting her. Offering sympathy, not trying to suck the tonsils from her throat.
    But instead of doing what any decent guy would do, he took the opportunity to luxuriate in the velvety heat of her mouth.
    Her hands vanished from his arms only to tangle in his hair. Had he tried to pull away and draw breath, he’d have failed. She clung to him, holding him close, allowing no path of escape.
    But then who would want to escape or try to end a kiss with a woman who’d blown his mind a second after meeting her?
    A decent man, that’s who. Someone who was thinking with his head, not his dick. Only Andrew seemed not to have been able to think with his head since he’d met her. The two organs functioning adequately were his dick and his heart, and both demanded he give this woman whatever she wanted.
    For some bizarre reason, the thing she wanted now was him.
    She kissed him harder, deeper, and he lost himself to the dizzying taste of her breath, the exquisite scent of her perfume. While the honeyed sweetness of grapes and the seductive aroma of roses filled the air, it was the subtle hint of cinnamon and spice clinging to her skin that knocked him senseless.
    Or maybe it was her strength. Victoria lurched forward, flinging herself at him.
    He lost his balance and fell on his ass, forcing him to break the kiss. She didn’t hesitate. She just pushed him backwards, knocking him flat.
    “More,” she demanded.
    Breathless, stunned and aroused, he lay there as she crawled up him, throwing her leg over his thighs and straddling his waist, dropping her mouth to his and kissing him again—hard and long and deep. All the while she ground her groin against his throbbing cock.
    Andrew had been stoned once, a few years back. A joint had taken him on a high where life seemed to pulse in a vibrant world of black and red. No other color had been visible.
    That’s what he saw now. The world in a passion-frenzied haze of black and red. Night and desire. And the more she rocked, the redder the world became, dazzling streaks of scarlet painting the black sky.
    The low groan that echoed against the ceiling of the gazebo was his, but the softer gasp was hers. As was the next gasp—even less audible than her first.
    This time it wasn’t loss of balance that broke the kiss. It was Victoria.
    Almost as if their panting and moans had penetrated the fog of desire, she raised her head and stared down at his face as though shocked. Long seconds passed during which only the sound of their harsh breathing filled the air.
    Victoria moaned and tugged her leg up, neatly pulling away. She rolled to the right and stretched out beside him, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling.
    Both stunned and aroused, Andrew did nothing but lie beside her, listening to her labored breath. And his. His dick ached, and his chest burned with