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She leaned down, closed her eyes.

I wish…
What did she wish for? A funny thought popped into her head, and she felt strange enough to go with it.

I wish to have an adventure
. She was tired of reading about them between the pages of old books, she wanted to live one. Standing here with Tristan and kissing him tonight was the start, and she wanted more, so much more. With a puff, she blew out the candle, and smoke curled up from the blackened tip of the wick.

“Happy birthday, Kat,” Tristan whispered.

“Thank you.” Kat meant for more than just his sweet words. She meant for the cake, for the kiss in the pub, for setting her down a path of living. She flicked her gaze up to his again as she removed the candle from the slice of cake and set it aside on the counter.

A slow smile curved his lips as he handed back her plate and collected his own. Then he walked over to her bed and sat down.

Tristan tasted his cake, and she wished he were tasting her. She wanted to be back in his arms, kissing him. And part of her was curious to know what made him so notorious that women were whispering about him in pubs.

I have to be smart about this
. There was no way she could ask him to kiss her again and open that door to more intimacy. Not after he’d made a promise to behave like a gentleman and just eat his cake. But she was torn. Wanting him to stay, wanting more, and being afraid of that desire and where it could lead. After just a short while of being around him, she could see that heartbreaker side to him, the one that would hurt her if she fell for him. He was full of charm, sex appeal, and mystery. There wasn’t a woman in the world who wasn’t intrigued by that, or seduced by that…

“Mmm…The baker wasn’t lying. This cake is sinful.” He patted the bedside next to him. “Come sit.”

Kat tried to ignore her confusion about Tristan and the way he made her feel. Hesitant, excited, off balance, fascinated. He was too handsome to be in her room and on her bed. And his simple presence on her bed made her mind go to wonderful places. The images he put in her head with just a thought should have scared her. She wanted to do things with him that she’d never thought about before. Like having him push her flat onto her back and pin her wrists on either side of her head while he kissed her, ruthless, seductive, hard, as she wriggled beneath him, desperate for more. His eyes promised that and so much more as he licked his lips and watched her.

She was finally nineteen, but he made her want to be twenty-five, worldly and experienced. Being around Tristan, she wanted to be someone interesting. Which brought her back to a question that plagued her: Was he pretending to be interested, wanting another notch on his bedpost and thinking she’d be an easy target?

Or does he really like me?
A nervous flutter stirred in her stomach again.

“Why did you really follow me to the bakery?” she asked.

For a man like him to come after her when the pub had been filled with plenty of pretty college girls, there had to be a reason. She wasn’t exactly the type of girl guys flocked after. She was a size twelve, definitely curvy, with brown hair and gray eyes. Not a stunning model or even like the prettier girls she’d seen on campus, those tall leggy British beauties who were similar to his cousin Celia.

Tristan bit into a forkful of cake, sucking chocolate off the prongs.

Kat stared at his mouth, remembering all too well how his lips had felt on hers.

“You’ve caught my attention, Kat.” He set his plate on the table by the bed and folded his arms over his chest.

“Your attention?” She avoided the bed and sat at her desk, where she nibbled on the cake. The flavors were decadent. The zing of the raspberry, the dark, almost erotic taste of the semi-sweet chocolate.
Sinful
.

“Yes.” He reached up to stroke his jaw. “Very few things attract my attention. But
you
did.” His brows drew together.

What did that mean? Kat had trouble swallowing. Maybe if she drank something…Kneeling by her fridge, she retrieved a small carton of milk.

“Want something to drink?” she offered.

“Yes. Thank you.” He rose from the bed and came up behind her. The warmth of his body seared hers as he reached around her to grab one of her mugs and fill it himself.

A shiver rippled down her spine, and she closed her eyes a brief moment, until he stepped back again. Then she raised her glass to her lips and hastily drank, trying to quench the thirst chocolate always created, and this newer thirst for the man not two feet from her. He was like a drug—one hit and she needed more. To feel that giddy rush when he pinned her against a wall, his hands exploring her curves, his mouth possessing hers…She was supposed to be playing it cool, and not letting him think he could get her into bed, at least not tonight. The fact that this was exactly what she wanted was very…very bad.

I
find you fascinating,” Tristan said. Their faces were so close, his lips a mere breath from hers, and it made her head spin a little with a strange, excited dizziness. His gaze dropped to her lips as his voice softened to a low murmur. “I made a promise tonight, and I won’t break it, even it if bloody well kills me.”

Kat shivered and when she spoke her voice was husky. “But after tonight?”

With a curve of his lips, Tristan leaned in half an inch closer. “After tonight…I could fuck you here, in this bed, and leave you so sated you’d wouldn’t want to get up for days. The things I could do to you to make you purr, make you moan and beg…After being with me, no other man would satisfy you.” The tips of their noses brushed as he leaned a tiny bit closer. Every muscle in her body tensed in heady anticipation, and her heart thudded against her ribs so hard it hurt.

Those images his words created, his body on top of hers, his weight trapping her while he owned her in every way…why did it sound so wonderful and frightening all at the same time?

Kat’s lips parted, but no words came out at first. He seemed like a man who, up to now, had gotten everything he ever wanted. She didn’t want to be another thing he got simply because he wanted it. She was a woman worth fighting for, and Kat wanted him to earn her. Her father used to say, “A good man will climb to the highest branch for the ripest apple, rather than pluck the low-hanging fruit.” She deserved a man who was willing to work for her.

“But not tonight,” she replied softly, almost teasing. Her heart pounded at a wild pace and her hands shook as she clenched them together.

As though it were the most natural thing in the world, he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her in to his body. Her hands came up on instinct, settling on his chest, but she didn’t push him away.

“Not tonight,” he agreed. “But that one kiss at the Pickerel? It was only the beginning.” His arm around her waist tightened.

His words, so determined and confident, made her shiver. There was no denying his confidence was appealing, but this was her sex life they were talking about. She had never been the type of girl to just give in to a guy, so why was saying yes so tempting?

I need to put some space between us. When he’s too close I can’t think.

She pressed her hands against his chest and, after a long moment, Tristan released her. Kat took a few steps back, heart hammering. He didn’t come after her, but instead studied her room again, his eyes fixing on the bookshelf near her door. Kat watched him as he approached the books and studied the titles.

“Jules Verne? Are you a fan of his?” He used one long index finger to tug a book out of her shelf. It was a well-worn paperback version of
The Mysterious Island
. One of her favorites.

Her nervousness was momentarily forgotten. Talking about books was safe. A lot safer than talking about kisses and where they might lead. “My father read them to me when I was a kid. Verne, Burroughs. They’re like my comfort food. I read them over and over.”

“Which do you like best?” He nodded at her shelf. She couldn’t help but smile as she walked over to him and took the book from his hands, flipping through the pages before meeting his gaze again.

“This one is by far my favorite,” she said, indicating the book she now held. Even though she’d put space between them a moment ago, she felt safe now, standing here, talking about books. It helped her think clearly, past the hazy desire that filled her whenever he was too close.

Tristan watched her, his captivating eyes darkening with emotions she couldn’t quite understand.

“A woman who appreciates classic literature that isn’t Austen, Hardy, or one of the other stereotypes of the classic literature world. What a rare find you are. Do you know most women your age haven’t even read a book in years? It’s all magazines and online gossip sites. Bloody empty-headed creatures, the lot of them.” There was something about his words, the way he spoke…it was as though he were frustrated and annoyed.

Kat wondered if Tristan had tried to talk to other women he’d slept with and found them lacking. The idea that she might be different from those women…hope stirred inside her.

“Don’t get me wrong. I like Austen and Hardy, but an author’s works should move you. I don’t want to claim an author is a favorite just because they’re considered a classic. Verne’s diction, his imagination, his characters—they leap off the page and sweep me away.” As she spoke, she gazed fondly at the titles lining the bookshelf. So many wonderful memories, so many stories. All with the power to make her forget the pain she’d had in life, the way her mother had abandoned her, the way her father buried himself in his job. With books, she’d found the solace she needed. The stories didn’t change, the characters didn’t leave, and she didn’t have to leave them behind when she moved. Not like her real life.

But I’m done hiding. Cambridge is home for three years. I can take a risk now.

It was a lot easier to go out and try new things if people like Mark and Lacy were there with her as a safety net. Lacy had taken her clubbing the first night they’d met. Kat had hated the whole experience, but she’d been glad she’d had Lacy to go and try it out with. And Mark had talked her into learning how to punt on the River Cam even though she was convinced she’d never be able to stay on the boat while standing, let alone steer it. But she had, because he’d been there to help her.

It was definitely time to try any- and everything because she had the chance to.

“And you want to be swept away?” Tristan moved, reaching up to trap her between himself and the wall.

Her body jolted at the sudden vulnerable position, every muscle twitching as though she were a live wire. How could he do that to her? Make her body act so crazy with just the simple act of caging her in? His eyes searched hers, his face completely focused on her as he seemed to be waiting for an answer, and she struggled to remember his question.

“Sometimes I do,” she admitted, her gaze landing on his lips. They were such soft, kissable lips, but the rest of him was lean, strong,
hard
. She couldn’t forget the way it felt to be pressed up against him, his body dominating hers as he kissed her senseless.

He made a low, throaty sound, almost between a hum and a growl as he leaned down, ever so slowly, and touched his lips to hers.

There was ample time to push him away, but the memory of that first kiss…it was seared into her. Kat had to know if Tristan could make her feel like that again.

It’s not seduction, it’s just another little harmless kiss…

The soft brush of their mouths was gentle, but heat began to build. The way he licked at her lips, entreating her to open her mouth, was erotic, dangerous. There was nothing sweet about it.

Could a man’s kiss feel hotter than sex?

She’d never had sex before, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it felt like this with everyone or if it was just Tristan—the all-consuming hunger and the languorous feel of her body as she arched her back, pressing closer to him.

One of his hands gripped the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss. The feel of his tongue playing with hers as his hips rocked forward, pinning her against the wall, sent them both climbing toward something powerful
together
but he was in charge and she liked it, oh how she
liked
it. Everything he did was overpowering, and he worshipped her with his mouth until she was ready to come undone.

There was no ignoring the impressive bulge of his arousal when it pressed into her stomach through her jeans.

A gasp escaped her, but he swallowed her sounds of shock and pleasure. He cupped her ass, lifted her up, and held her trapped between the wall and his body.

“Tristan!” she breathed between his heady kisses. It stunned her that he could hold her up, one-handed, their bodies as close as two people could get with their clothes on.

“You are…quite the most—” he panted against her mouth, “exquisite creature. All honey and fire…” He stole another deep, lingering kiss. The kind that made her body flush and a quiver of longing fly through her like quicksilver. She didn’t want it to ever end, this feeling of rushing wildly toward something immense and wondrous, just within reach—

Tristan let her feet drop to the floor but didn’t put any distance between them as he continued to trail kisses from her mouth down to her throat, nipping and sucking at newly sensitive spots that made her whimper. He continued to encroach upon her space, his muscular build and height making her feel small and vulnerable as he kept her caged in his arms.

Kat never had wanted to feel small or vulnerable before but, in that moment with Tristan, it was wonderful. She was a woman, utterly feminine, full of new passion and desire, not a girl with no sexual experience. His kisses had
changed
her. Hating to admit it, she knew he was right. Whatever this was between them, it was explosive.

He caressed the back of his knuckles across her cheek before he stepped away.

“I should go…Wouldn’t want to break my promise.”

She bit her bottom lip, holding back the words that would make him stay. Kat wasn’t ready to take the next step, no matter how much her body screamed for her to keep him here.

“Okay.” The word came out breathless and a little shaky. Her entire body was strung out on an edge, craving him, wanting more of what his kisses hinted was to come, but she wasn’t ready.

“Happy birthday, darling. I’ll see you soon.” His eyes held a merry twinkle that softened his intensity, making him more playful.

He slipped out the door, and she shut it behind him, then leaned against it, catching her breath.

Raising a hand to her mouth, she explored her tender lips, swollen from his ravaging kisses.

How strange and wondrous the night had turned out. She’d gotten her wish. Spending tonight with Tristan had been an adventure. Kissing him, the feeling of being in his arms, it wasn’t something she’d ever forget.

He’d been so…dominant and assertive, and taken control, as though he’d known it was what she needed.

I shouldn’t like that. I know I shouldn’t. But I do…

Kat nibbled her lip in frustration. What was wrong with her? She’d never cared this much about any guy before, and had certainly never let one twist her into knots before, either. There was just something about him, and she couldn’t get him out of her mind.

It wouldn’t be like this tomorrow, when she’d be busy cramming for final exams and shouldn’t be thinking about him. But tonight, she could close her eyes and still feel that devilish and delicious brush of Tristan Kingsley’s kiss upon her lips. Seductive, mysterious, and all too dangerous because of what his kiss promised.