An American Witch In Paris. Michele Hauf

his legs with hers. They kneeled there on the scattered remains of the city map, a strange fusion of opposites who couldn’t resist the pull to experience one another.

      And when he put his hand again on the sigil, she moved his fingers to cup her breast. She hugged up against him, giving him permission to touch her, wanting to own the vampire’s desire... To control him as he sought to control her.

      Ethan broke the kiss and pulled his hand abruptly from her skin. “Uh...”

      Appearing befuddled, he probably wasn’t sure why he’d kissed her. And had manhandled her boob. So she wouldn’t let him consider it too long. Because if she had to use normal skills instead of magic to control him, it was best to keep him unsure and wondering.

      “Feel like a walk in the park?” she asked.

      “Sure. I um...”

      She stood and knotted the ties of her shirt into a bow. “Then let’s get to it before I shove you down and have some hex with you.”

      She’d let him ponder the use of that word for what she really wanted to do to him. The man had ignited something within her. And she had never been a witch to deny herself the pleasures life offered.