An Irresistible Impulse by Barbara Delinsky Page A

carefully to the gunnels on either side.
    “Ben! You can’t move. We’ll capsize!”
    His attention was focused on balancing himself as he spanned another cross-plank. “Shhhhh. I’m concentrating.”
    “But Ben…”
    Having reached the section directly behind where she knelt, he settled back onto his shins. “Turn around,” he ordered softly, taking the paddle from her hands and stowing it by his.
    “What—”
    “Turn around,” he repeated the command. “Just stay as low as possible.”
    “This is crazy—” But his hands were on her waist, moving her when she hesitated. Totally engrossed in turning without tipping the boat, she didn’t speak again until she was on her knees and sitting back on her heels to face him. Then, hands gripping the gunnels and heart thudding loudly, sheyielded to bewilderment. “What in the world are you doing?” she cried, looking up at his darkened features. He took her face in his hands before she could think to pull back.
    “I’m going to kiss you right here, where no one can bother us and you can’t run off.”
    “But Ben—” She motioned futilely toward shore.
    “They’re behind me.” Sure enough, he’d positioned the boat so that the broad expanse of his back ensured their privacy. “And as you said, it’s getting dark….”
    He held her face still, denying her escape. Then, waiting no longer, he lowered his head and captured her lips.
    “Ben—” she forced a muffled protest. “Please…don’t…”
    But he refused to listen. His kiss was the gentlest, most intense of caresses—a slow and steady persuasion. It took every bit of her resolve to clamp her lips tightly together. This wasn’t what she’d wanted when she’d agreed to canoe with him…and to think she’d thought herself safe from temptation!
    When she tried to turn her head aside, his hands were firm and unyielding. Soft sounds of pleading came from the back of her throat, but he ignored them to stake his claim. When she took her hands from the gunnels to push him away, the canoe rocked dangerously, and she found herself clinging to his shirt instead.
    And still he kissed her, caressing her lips with a warmth she found to be pervasive. It melted her insides and curled her toes, leaving her breathless.
    Then, with a soft moan of pleasure, he moved to place gentle kisses on her cheeks and eyes. “Kiss me, Abby. It’s all right.”
    “But it’s not,” she gasped, eyes closed now, fighting a need to acquiesce. No longer could she smell the fragrance of autumn; rather the rich, male scent of Ben filled her nostrils.
    When he moved his hand to trace the line of her jaw with his lips, a slow, sweet lethargy stole over her. Her fingers relaxed their hold on his shirt, her palms flattened against the muscular swell of his chest. The rapid hammer of his heart seemed to echo through her.
    “This is insane,” she whispered with a last breath of reason. Ben pressed another kiss to each eye.
    “If it’s insane,” he growled, “why can’t we stop? We’re both creatures ruled by reason, aren’t we?”
    She had no answer for him. Much as she could voice one feeble protest after another, she couldn’t keep her lips from aching for his again. It was a torment—his kissing her everywhere else—and she turned her head in an instinctive quest. When he finally gave her what she sought, it was his gain as well.For her lips were open and welcoming as she sighed a blissful surrender.
    Abby had never in her life been as fully intoxicated as she was at that moment. It suddenly seemed impossible to recall why she’d been hesitant, when her body tingled so delightfully. And she returned Ben’s kiss with an enflaming passion, subconsciously urging him to even greater heights.
    “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured as his hands fell to her shoulders, then her waist, and he lifted her higher against him. With a low groan, he buried his face against the soft curve of her neck. “You always smell so