"Seriously, your work is very interesting, and it's obvious from how you explained the research that you

love it." "I do." She closed her eyes, enjoying the giddiness that coursed through her, making her limbs light. Her speech had gone great. Cecil had been thrilled with the investors' interest in the lab's research. She'd drunk several glasses of champagne in celebration and she just felt ... bubbly.

But what had her feeling the most bubbly was the memory of Chase's kiss in the moonlight. Even now, she could taste him on her lips. And the social part of their evening was over and they were finally alone.

She opened her eyes and watched him drive, a broad-shouldered silhouette beside her.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, amusement softening the words.

"You."

"And what are you thinking about me?"

"That I like the way you kiss."

"Really? Well, I'm pretty partial to the way you kiss, too."

The bubbles swirled in her belly. She licked her lips. "Are you?"

"Oh yeah," he said with conviction.

Abby felt wonderful. Powerful. Attractive. And the night still held so many possibilities.

She glanced over at Chase. The faint blue light of the dashboard lit his face enough that she could see the straight line of his nose and the shape of his sculpted lips.

She swiveled on the bench seat. "Are you planning to take me home now?"

Chase cast her a quick look. "Do you want to go home now?"

Abby thought for a moment. She shook her head. "No, I think I'd rather go home with you."

"Well, sweetheart, I would love you to come home with me," Chase said, and Abby fell against the back of the seat as the car accelerated.

By the time they stepped into Chase's house, the champagne and Abby's boldness had worn off. She stood in the middle of his bright kitchen and wondered why on earth she thought she could ever be daring enough to actually have a fling with Chase Jordan.

"Come on, you lazy oaf," Chase coaxed, holding open the back door. "Get up, and go do your business."

Chester, who had been regarding Chase from his doggy bed, thumped his tail twice and struggled to his feet. Ambling first to Abby for a pat on the head, he finally followed Chase's order and went outside.

"My dog likes his sleep."

Abby smiled.

Chase paused from loosening his bow tie and considered her.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, trying to keep her expression calm.

"No," he said as he shrugged out of his jacket, the thin white material of his dress shirt straining against

the muscles of his shoulders. "You're not okay."

"Why do you say that?"

"I can tell when you're uncomfortable by your posture. You get stick straight. You're stick straight right

now." Abby crossed her arms over her chest and tried to relax the taut muscles in her back. "I may be a little nervous, " she admitted, moving her arms back to her sides, although the movement didn't help her feel more relaxed. "Ive never done anything like this before." She crossed her arms again. "You've stood in this kitchen several times before." "Please don't be obtuse. You know what I mean." She almost cringed at her abruptness, but she felt like a violin that had been strung too tight. She had no idea what to do now that she had Chase alone. Her eye twitched. Great. Instead of being offended by her terseness, Chase chuckled. "I'm not being obtuse. I'm being serious.

We're just hanging out in my kitchen alter a very nice evening together. There shouldn't be anything nerve-wracking about that."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered.

He laughed again. "Sit down. Would you like a drink?"

Abby was so nervous she felt like she'd just eaten a heaping spoonful of flour. "That would be great"

She sat down.

Chase opened the refrigerator door and peered inside. "Let's see-I have soda, OJ-" He braced his hand on the fridge door and leaned forward to look at the lower shelf. The movement pulled the fabric of his trousers tighter against his firm backside. Abby stared. Her eyes moved from his bottom to the defined muscles of his back and then to his butt again. After several seconds, she realized Chase had stopped talking and was looking at her, an amused smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

"So what will it be?" he asked, the grin widening. He knew full well she had no idea what he'd been saying.

"The last one," Abby said, cursing the blush that burned her skin.

"Iced tea, it is."

Thank goodness. For all she knew, she'd agreed to do shots of tequila.

Chase bent into the fridge to retrieve the pitcher of tea, his firm bottom tempting her again.

On second thought, she'd been feeling much braver when the champagne had been bubbling merrily through her system. She could only imagine what tequila would do to her courage.

Chase fixed a glass of tea and then joined her at the table.

"So what's got you so nervous?"

The directness of Chase's question caused her hand to falter as she took the drink. Amber liquid sloshed onto the tabletop. She stared at him with wide eyes, uncertain what to say.

"Come on, tell me what's bothering you." He gave her an encouraging smile.

Abby paused. She'd already told him plenty of things that were embarrassing-the hurts of her past, the monotony of her relationship with Nelson. Heck, he could probably guess what she was uptight about. "I don't think I'm very good in bed."

Chase nearly laughed but thankfully, caught himself when he realized she was being serious. "And how did you come to this conclusion?"

Abby ran her neatly trimmed finger around the rim of the glass. "I've never been overly-" she struggled with the right words. "I've never been overly successful with sex."

Chase watched her. Gee, could have something to do with her ex-partner being a clueless automaton. But he didn't reveal his irritation, afraid that she would either stop telling him about her concerns or think he was angry with her.

"So neither you nor Nelson enjoyed sex?" he asked.

Abby shook her head, staring at the table. "Nelson had this theory that intellectuals didn't have primal urges, such as sexual desire, to the same extent that-average people did."

Chase stared at her, until she finally raised her head and made eye contact with him.

"You didn't buy that, did you?" he asked, keeping his voice level.

"No," she said, her gaze back on her glass, her finger moving again. "But it was a nicer explanation than the truth. I didn't-turn him on."

"You know the more I hear about this guy, the more I dislike him and the more I doubt his intelligence." Abby peeked at him from under her lashes. "But the fact remains that I'm not altogether sure that I wasn't the problem. And I'm definitely not proficient enough in the act to satisfy someone like you."

Chase blinked, then frowned. "Someone like me? What am I, the town horndog?"

Abby cringed, then adamantly shook her head. "I didn't mean it that way." She fell silent, running her index finger up and down the condensation beaded on the outside of the tumbler. "I just don't want to disappoint you-or myself for that matter," she said faintly. Chase studied her, his eyes straying from her downcast face to the repetitive movement of her finger.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Water glistened on the tip of her finger, on the smoothness of her short nail.

Chase could imagine that same long finger running the length of his hardened penis. Up. Down. Up. Down. His moisture dampening her finger, glistening on her nail. He shifted, the scratchy material of the tuxedo pants growing more uncomfortable by the moment, with each stroke. Damn, what was this woman thinking? She drove him wild by merely fidgeting with a drink glass. There wasno way he'd be disappointed. And he sure as hell planned to make sure she wasn't disappointed.

"Come here," he said, his voice low, the command undeniable.

Abby hesitated, but alter a few hushed moments, the chair scraped against the floor. Abby moved to stand in front of him, her hands loose at her sides, her coffee brown eyes wide and uncertain.

"You were amazing during your speech," he told her. "You had everyone in the room captivated. I was

captivated. I wanted to understand your research. I wanted to understand you."

The pink that had stained her cheeks since they entered the kitchen deepened. Her eyes searched his.

He placed his hands on her hips, caressing his thumbs back and forth over the smooth fabric of her

gown and the slight jut of her hipbones. "And alter your speech, I simply watched you. The brilliance in

your dark eyes. The curve of your beautiful mouth. The way excitement colored your cheeks."

His hands slid slowly from her hips down the outside of her thighs, until he reached her knees. Then he slowly brushed his palms back up, following the same path to her hips.

"And I want to create that same response in you. With my hands, and my mouth, and my body. Until you're under me, eyes glittering, cheeks flushed, a satisfied smile on those gorgeous, lush lips."

A shaky breath escaped her parted lips, and he felt her tremble.

In one quick motion, he stood, gripped her waist and twisted to place her onto the table directly in front of him.

A squeak escaped her, and she looked up at him, uncertainty replaced by surprise.

He grinned, cupped the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his. She tasted like champagne and strawberries and timidity, but her lips clung to his, searching for his reassurance. He continued to kiss her slowly, telling her with small, teasing sweeps of his tongue that everything would be fine. Wonderful, in fact.

Her hands came up from gripping the edge of the table to caress his cheeks, the pads of her fingertips like the softest silk against his skin. Then she sank her hands into his hair, and kissed him with all the desire he was keeping a tight rein on. Her tongue tasted his, brushing temptingly over his lips. Her teeth nipped at his bottom lip.

A small moan of satisfaction sounded between them.

He wasn't sure which of them had made the noise, but it summed up his feelings with total accuracy. Her full, supple lips were stealing all of his softness, leaving him hard and vibrating.

He let her continue her incredible assault, loving the textures of her mouth, until he felt his tight hold slipping. Tonight wasn't about him. It was about Abby and about making her understand how truly beautiful and sexy she was.

He sat back in his chair, slowly running his hands from her waist back down the outside of her legs. He stopped at her knees and left his hand there. Gently, he began to hitch up the material of her dress, each handful exposing another inch of long, shapely legs. "Did I tell you how sexy you look in this dress?" he asked.

She didn't respond, mesmerized by the slow rise of her dress.

Once the hem reached the tops of her tightly closed knees, he paused.

"I want to touch you, Abby."

Her eyes were heavy. The deep brown of her irises appeared nearly black under the sweep of dark lashes. She nodded, the movement so small, he wasn't absolutely certain he hadn't just wished her consent. But then her squeezed thighs parted, just slightly.

He smiled and placed a kiss on her knee. His hands slipped under the gathered gown. He expected to discover the mesh of pantyhose covering her smooth skin. Instead, he was delighted to find his fingers sliding over warm, naked flesh.

He grinned up at her. "I would have pegged you for a staunch nylons-wearer."

Abby licked the width of her bottom lip, her eyes flashing from his hands disappearing under the puddle of black material to his face and back to his wandering fingers. "I am. I just happened to get a snag in my last pair, and I didn't have time to go buy more."

His grin widened. "My lucky day."

His fingers spanned the firm top of her thighs, the pads of his thumbs brushing leisurely over the edges of her panties at the apex of her thighs.

A small sound that was a combination between a gasp and a hiss escaped her lips. Her eyes closed, and she bit her bottom lip, the pink flesh pillowing around her white teeth. He leaned forward and kissed the fragile, pale skin of her inner thigh. His butterfly kisses advanced forward, relentless in their fluttering assault.