Patsy O'Flaherty's words came back to him, ringing inside his head. The tenth time, laddybuck. The tenth time makes it all worthwhile.
If he took Annabel in his arms and kissed her right now, it wouldn't be the tenth time he had ever done something like that in his life. Actually, it would only be the third or fourth. And it would certainly be the first time he had done such a thing with Annabel Lowell.
But he had to make her see somehow that this obsession of hers with the fire department competition was unwise. If he could distract her in some manner. . . if he could make her understand how important she was becoming to him . . .
Oh, blast it, he thought, he wanted to kiss her now because she was beautiful and because he had wanted to kiss her almost from the very first moment he had laid eyes on her. And because, in his entire life, he could count the emotional impulses he had given in to on the fingers of one hand.
So, without wasting one more second worrying about the why of it, he stepped closer to her, put his arms around her, and brought his mouth down on hers in a kiss.
****
Annabel was so shocked that for a long moment, she couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. Cole's lips pressed warmly to hers, not rough and demanding, but not overly gentle, either. There was a firmness to the kiss, an insistence.
And slowly, ever so slowly, she began to respond.
His arms were around her waist, his hands on her back. He held them still, the fingers slightly spread as they pressed against the fabric of the green dress. Annabel felt her arms lifting. Her left hand rested on the broad, muscular sweep of his shoulders, while her right lightly touched the back of his neck, feeling the bristle of his closely cropped hair. Their bodies barely touched, their thighs brushing, her breasts tentatively encountering his chest. Most of Annabel's attention was concentrated on her mouth and his, and the wonderfully natural way in which they came together.
His lips had the faint roughness that spoke of frequent exposure to wind and weather. They were full, strong, and warm—oh so warm, the kind of warmth that made Annabel think of cool mornings wrapped up in a soft quilt.
The way Cole's arms were wrapped around her now.
Without Annabel's even being aware of it, she moved closer to him. Their bodies were beginning to mold together. His hands pressed harder against her back, and her arms tightened around his neck. Her right hand cupped the back of his head, holding him so that he couldn't get away, even if he'd wanted to. Her lips parted slightly as Cole's lips caressed them, the kiss becoming gradually more insistent and urgent. They stroked and tasted and explored, and Annabel felt excitement growing within her.
She had wondered more than once what it would be like to kiss Cole Brady, and now she was discovering that it was good. It was very good indeed.
Which was why it surprised her almost as much as it obviously shocked him when she brought her hands from his neck down to his chest and shoved hard, making him break the kiss and take a stumbling step backward. "Stop it!" Annabel said in a low, trembling voice. "Just stop it."
"But. . . but why . . . ?" Cole swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Annabel. I meant no offense."
"No?" she flung back at him defiantly. "Then what did you mean? Why did you kiss me, Cole?"
"I wanted to," he said.
"So that you could distract me from what you think of as my foolishness."
She could tell from the brief flare of guilt she saw in his eyes that she was at least partially right. He said, "That's not all of it, and you know it. Ever since the day we met—" Abruptly, he fell silent.
Annabel waited for a space of several heartbeats, and when he didn't say anything else, she prodded, "Ever since the day we met what, Cole? What have you felt?" She was going to make him put it into words, all of it.
"I've wanted to kiss you," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I was hoping that you felt the same way."
"Why? Why should you care how I feel about you? You don't care about what I want. This business about the competition is enough proof of that."
His hands clenched into fists of frustration. "Blast it, I asked the lieutenant, just like you wanted me to. You can ask Patsy whether or not I was fair about it. He was there. He heard the whole thing."
"And he probably thinks I'm crazy, too."
Cole frowned. "Actually, he didn't say one way or the other. But he didn't seem to think your idea was so strange."
"Then perhaps I should meet Mr. O'Flaherty, since it sounds like he's more open-minded than you are."