“No.”
The directness caught her.
“What would you want?”
Harlan looked at her.
“You.”
Josephine’s breath stopped.
He continued before she could speak.
“But those are different questions.”
She remained perfectly still.
“I can want you and still want you free.”
The room seemed suddenly warm.
Josephine’s voice dropped.
“You say things like that very easily.”
“No.”
His pale eyes held hers.
“I’ve spent years learning how not to say them.”
Josephine’s heart began to race.
Harlan stood.
Not approaching.
Simply standing.
Josephine looked at his hands.
Scarred.
Large.
Gentle when they wanted to be.
“Do you remember what I asked in the trapper’s shack?”
“Yes.”
“Whether you wanted to kiss me.”
“Yes.”
Josephine rose.
They faced each other across the table.
“Ask me now.”
Harlan did not move.
“Josephine.”
“Ask.”
His voice became low.
“May I kiss you?”
She waited one heartbeat.
Then another.
“Yes.”
Harlan walked around the table.
Slowly.
He stopped in front of her.
“Certain?”
Josephine almost laughed.
“You warned me you would ask twice.”
“Yes.”
She looked up at him.
“I’m certain.”
Harlan touched her cheek.
Only that.
His thumb rested beneath her ear.
Josephine leaned into his palm before she could become embarrassed.
Then he kissed her.
Softly.
Almost too softly.
Josephine had expected something overwhelming from a man his size.
Instead the kiss was patient.
Careful.
Her hands moved to his chest.
Harlan immediately stopped.
Josephine opened her eyes.
“What?”
“You moved.”
“I touched you.”
“Yes.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No.”
“Then why did you stop?”
“Checking.”
Her entire body warmed.
Josephine tightened her fingers in his shirt.
“Don’t stop.”
This kiss was different.
Still controlled.
But deeper.
Josephine felt his other hand settle at her waist.
She inhaled sharply.
Harlan stopped again.
She almost groaned.
“Harlan.”
“What?”
“If you ask whether I’m certain every three seconds, I may hit you.”
His eyes changed.
Amusement.
Desire.
“Fair.”
Josephine pulled him closer by the shirt.
The kiss lasted longer.
When they finally separated, both were breathing differently.
Josephine looked at the broad chest inches from her face.
“So.”
Harlan’s voice was rough.
“So.”
“You can control yourself.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“That almost sounds disappointing.”