Adam’s eyes darkened seductively at her very obvious inner struggle. “You sure?”

His voice was quiet and deep, a little rough. Not demanding or aggressive, which would have instantly had her shields snapping into place. Despite the almost physical yearning rising up in her to say, “No, I’m not sure. Take me anyway,” Sam found herself nodding and shaking her head at the same time.

Yikes. Way to be decisive.

Confused and tempted—so darn tempted, especially when disappointment flashed across his starkly handsome face—she bit her lip and nodded reluctantly.

Sending her one last searching look, he turned away and stepped forward as the doors opened. He was almost through the doorway when something inside her snapped. She gave a strangled gurgle that sounded like “Wait!” and before she could reconsider, she was spinning Adam around and pushing him against the steel frame.

Sliding up against all that warm hardness, she rose onto her toes and, for the second time that night, caught his mouth in a kiss because she suddenly couldn’t face the thought of him walking away.