I don't like--playing with fire."
He bent lower. "We've got to risk something," he said, and with a
swiftness of decision that she had not expected he took her chin and
turned her face fully upwards to his own.
The colour rushed in vivid scarlet to her temples. She met his eyes for
one fleeting second then closed her own with a gasp and a blind effort to
escape that was instantly quelled. For he kissed her--he kissed
her--pressing his lips to hers closely and ever more closely, as a man
consumed with thirst draining the cup to the last precious drop.
When he let her go, she was burning, quivering, tingling from head to
foot as if an electric current were coursing through and through her. And
the citadel had fallen. She made no further attempt to keep him out.
But he did not kiss her a second time. He only held her against his
heart. "Ah, Juliet--Juliet!" he said, and she felt the deep quiver of his
words. "I've got you--now! You are mine."
She was panting, wordless, thankful to avail herself of the shelter he
offered. She leaned against him for many seconds in palpitating silence.
For so long indeed was she silent that in the end misgiving pierced him
and he felt for the downcast face.
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