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break.
    There’d been no one who kissed like her, and Teague sensed, never would be, never could be. Maybe he’d survive without another taste, but he couldn’t swear to it.
    The fire sizzled and spit.
    Dark shadows danced on the walls.
    Blankets tangled and fought. His head, his ankle…both hurt. But not like the ache building deep in his groin. This was champagne he’d never tasted, a high he’d never expected. It pulled at him.
    She pulled at him.
    He didn’t believe for a second that she intended to respond this way. Wildly. No inhibitions. Just need, hanging as naked between them as secrets. Longings bursting to the surface because no one thought they’d needed a lock to protect them, not this night, not this way.
    She’d been through hell. She’d never said that exactly—but it was there, in her eyes, her touch, that kindof urgent take-me-take-me-because-I-want-the-hurt-to-go-away. He knew the words to that song. When you were hurt, you wrapped yourself up tight, so the wounds had a chance to heal. You’d have to be crazy to ask for a fresh hurt before the old scars healed up…yet loneliness was always the worst when you’d been hurt. It took you down. Made you doubt whether anyone’d ever be there for you again. Made you worry what was wrong with you, that someone you’d given your best to hadn’t loved you enough.
    Hell. He not only knew that song. He knew the refrain and every verse. But as he increasingly sensed her vulnerability…he was stuck increasingly sensing his own.
    He tore his mouth free from her, tried to gulp in some oxygen, when all he really wanted to do was gulp in her. Now. All night. Forever, and then all over again. “Daisy…”
    â€œI know. This is insane.” She was struggling for oxygen just as he was, looking at him with dazed dark eyes. “But damn. I just wasn’t expecting this.”
    â€œNeither was I.”
    â€œDo you always kiss this well, or am I just really fantastic at bringing it out in you?”
    â€œUm, something tells me there’s no way I can answer that question without getting my head smacked.”
    Gentle fingers lifted to his cheek. “I wouldn’t hit you in the head, cher. Not when you’re already wounded. I wouldn’t do anything worse than slug you in the stomach, and that’s a promise.”
    â€œThanks. I think.”
    â€œWe’re both getting some common sense back, aren’t we.”
    â€œYeah,” he said regretfully.
    â€œI’m up for doing impulsive things. For going with the moment. For living. But maybe…this is just a little too impulsive.”
    â€œI know.” But he still couldn’t keep the regret out of his voice. “I never do stupid things.”
    â€œNo? Well, heaven knows, I do. I’ve made so many stupid, impulsive mistakes that really, I could give courses in blundering the wrong way through life. I could teach you how.”
    â€œFrom you,” he said, “I’d like to learn.”
    She chuckled, a seductive whisper from her throat. “How about if I promise, Teague, that sometime during this blizzard…”
    He waited to hear the end of her comment. And when she said nothing else he tilted his head so he could easily see her face.
    The eyes were shut, little breathy snores sneaking from her damp, parted lips again. She’d fallen asleep. Just like that. Leaving him harder than stone and with an unnamed promise.
    He hoped to hell that wasn’t an omen.
    Â 
    Daisy vaguely heard the cell phone ringing. Jet lag and exhaustion had taken her down so deep she couldn’t seem to jolt herself awake. It was cold. Her brain got that right away. It was also daylight, because the unfamiliar room was much lighter than the night before.
    Slowly more reality managed to bully itself into her mind, forcing her to seriously wake up. She was at the Cunninghams’. She’d kissed