PROLOGUE

When Jackie kissed him, she felt something. 

This is not to say that all those other times with men who had somehow just caught her eye, Jackie had not felt anything at all. She had felt a lot, in truth. 

The first time with Andrew, a beautiful man with hair the colour of lacquered gold whom she had met attending a student conference, she had felt only warm. Nothing else. She felt warm when he slipped inside of her underneath the covers. They rocked each others bodies, back and forth, swinging like a sweet pendulum made of limbs and flesh, gasping, clawing at each other's skin, but not seeing each other, because the lights had been turned off. Andrew was that sort of man, the sort that turned off the lights before he undid a woman's clothes. He had a sad politeness about him that could almost be mistaken for sweetness if you did not recognize it for what it was. 

There, in that air-conditioned room, under the hotel's pristine sheets, Jackie had felt only warm, like all the other times with other men. But when she kissed Dante, she felt something more. Something she knew she would never be able to properly describe afterwards. 

It was a while before she pulled away. His eyes remained closed, eyelids fluttering like a butterfly. Dante, it seemed, was afraid to open his eyes, to acknowledge that what had just happened had really happened. His shirt had been undone in the process of the kiss, his tie flung aside. Disheveled, Dante looked even better. But after a prolonged moment, his fear, his closed eyes, had gone from a docile fear to an infectious one. 

Jackie stepped backwards on shaky ankles wondering what had come over her. She had not planned for this to happen. Besides, Dante was with another woman, she reminded herself. 

She began to say, "I am really sorr—"

"Don't you dare," he said. "Don't you dare apologize for this."

When he opened his eyes, they were afire, burning brown lust. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. 

Jacie's wits were beginning to return to her, and she clung to them desperately like a drowning man. "I am sorry, Dante, but this was a mistake. It should never have happened. Can we just pretend that—"

He pressed his mouth against hers, stopping her short. What sense Jackie had managed to regain flew out through the open window. She pushed back against him and they fell against his worktable, his files clattering to the floor. She hitched her skirt up above her knees and climbed astride him. Their breaths tangled like their tongues. Jackie had one of hands in his hair, and the other on his shoulder, pressing her body against his. He on his part had a fistful of her curls. A low growl rumbled at the back of his throat. 

He tasted of sweetness and magic. Like a fruit forbidden. It only made her want him all the more.

When she finally pulled away to catch her breath, Dante grinned up at her. A wicked glint danced in his eyes. 

Who knew brown eyes could glint brighter than metal? Jackie thought. 

This is bad, she thought. This is really bad. 

 It was the last coherent thought she would have for a bit of time.