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Sascha didn’t know if Lucas always sounded like an invitation to sin or whether he was doing it to unsettle her.
She was having trouble concentrating on his words with him so near . . . so touchable. He smelled of danger and wildness and passion, all the things she could never allow herself to feel. It was the ultimate temptation.
He was quite simply . . . luscious. She’d never used that word before, had never found anyone or anything worth using it for. But Lucas Hunter definitely fit the definition.
She was going to have to smuggle some chocolate into her quarters. For the first time, she’d found something relatively safe with which to indulge her senses. One more sin would make no difference to a life she’d lived in secret since before she could remember.
He wanted to close that distance badly enough to scare himself. The enemy was starting to look far too enticing. The feel of her skin had been a jolt to the senses, the dark honey like warm gold brushed with velvet, sensuous and luscious.
Her eyes were no longer night-sky. Sparks of color fountained where the white stars usually resided, spectacular fireworks on the most miniature of scales. Neither man nor panther had ever seen anything more beautiful.
