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“The way you were trying to get me to bet on the outcome of that last game, I would have thought you were a much bigger gambler.”
    Michael chuckled. The sound was warm, intimate, inside the confines of the car. “How about a quarter, then?”
    Amanda laughed. “Now that’s what I call a big spender.”
    Exiting the interstate, Michael pulled the car to a stop at the red light. He turned to Amanda. The smile disappeared from his lips as he reached over and traced his thumb along the line of her jaw. “What’s really going on inside that pretty head of yours?”
    â€œI was thinking about what a nice time I had.” Amanda swallowed, acutely aware of how close he was. In the darkness of the car, with only the dim light of the street lamp, his eyes reminded her of polished gems.
    â€œGlad you came?”
    â€œYes,” Amanda whispered. “I am.”
    â€œMe, too.” He moved his thumb across her lower lip.
    Amanda’s heart pounded as he leaned closer. Frightened, excited, she closed her eyes and lifted her mouth.
    A horn sounded behind them and Amanda pulled back.
    Muttering, Michael yanked the gear shift, sending the car jerking forward. “Sorry,” he mumbled as they sped down the dark street.
    While he maneuvered the car through the city, Amanda studied the strong line of his jaw, the fullness of his mouth. Feelings, long buried, stirred to life inside her. She recalled how those lips had felt—warm and hungry against her own. Realizing where her thoughts had drifted, she turned to stare out the window.
    A few minutes later Michael pulled the car to a stop in front of her cottage and shut off the engine.
    â€œAmanda?”
    Pulling her gaze from the pink-and-white azaleas that lined the walkway to her home, she looked up. Michael stood in front of her, holding the door open.
    Michael held her hand as she stepped out onto the driveway.
    After closing the door, he pressed his hand to the small of her back and steered her toward the house.
    It was a simple gesture of courtesy. Yet his touch made her nervous, edgy, acutely aware that she was a woman and he was a man. When they stepped into the alcove of her doorway, she wanted to race inside and bolt the door against him and the things he was making her feel.
    â€œI had a great time tonight.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her mouth. His fingertips caressed her cheek. “When can I see you again?”
    He was so close, she could see the faint shadow along his jaw that would demand a razor’s edge in the morning. The night seemed to close in around her. The sweet scent of gardenias faded and was replaced with the scent of woods, of earth. Of Michael.
    Michael sucked in his breath. “Amanda, don’t look at me like that.”
    She looked up and saw her own hunger mirrored in his eyes. “Like what?”
    â€œLike you want me,” he said in a voice husky with desire. Extending his arms on either side of her head, he placed his palms flat against the door, trapping her within his embrace. “Like you want to touch me. Taste me.” His gaze fell to her mouth. “The way I want to touch and taste you.”
    Knees weak, Amanda leaned back, grateful for the solid door. As Michael lowered his head, she braced her hands against his chest, intent on pushing him away.
    She leaned toward him instead.
    And then his mouth touched hers.
    His kiss was just as she remembered it. Gentle, coaxing, a slow brushing of lips against lips. He took her bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled, slowly explored its shape with his tongue.
    Unable to stop herself, Amanda touched the tip of her tongue to his.
    Michael shuddered. His heart beat like a drum against her fingertips and she strained closer. When his tongue began another slow foray of her mouth, Amanda’s control broke. She curled her fingers into his shirt, crumpling the soft cotton in her fists.
    When Amanda’s tongue