“ENJOYING YOURSELF, MISS LAWLESS?”

“No.”

His answer, a chuckling snort, brought heat to Jacey’s cheeks. But that warmth was nothing as to what slipped over her skin when he sent her a raw look that said he saw past her bravado, a look that said he’d peered into her soul. Completely unnerved, Jacey could only watch as he raised her hand to his mouth, cupped open her palm, and kissed it with a whole lot of slick daring.

Simple reflexes reacting to the foreign sensation jerked Jacey’s hand. Zant’s grip tightened. Trapped, caught in his web, she submitted. With a sinking feeling, knowing just how forbidden this one man was to her, she admitted to herself that she didn’t want to pull away. A shallow, bated breath escaped her in a whisper. “What … are you doing?”

Zant angled his heavy-lidded, black-eyed gaze up to her face. His strong, handsome features suddenly seemed all masculine angles and planes. “You tell me, Jacey. What am I doing?”

Jacey flicked her gaze down to her hand in his. “You’re kissing me.”

“Uh-uh.” He let go of her hand and, with his hand now cupping the back of her head, he pulled her to him. “Now I’m kissing you.”