"Did you just call me a dessert?"
Mirabelle's face looked adorably offended, yet laughter danced unmistakably in her voice—the sound he loved so much.
Lucien slipped between his chair and her slightly parted legs. He stood so close that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
The scent of cedarwood and fresh leafs surrounded her the instant he stepped closer.
Without thinking, she inhaled.
So close. Far too nice.
A breeze loosened one of her curls.
Almost automatically, he reached for it and gently tucked it back behind her ear. His fingers were warm against her skin.
A pleasant shiver chased the touch all the way down her neck. Her pulse fluttered beneath his fingertips.
His gaze drifted to her eyes.
Then to her lips. They looked impossibly soft.
"I think I need to try harder."
Her own gaze traveled from his eyes down to his mouth.
"Yes," she whispered. "You still don't look nearly desperate enough."
The next moment, his lips were on hers.
