I actually batted my eyes. Gawd! How romantic! ‘And what might that be?’ I said huskily. ‘Your name.’ I barked a laugh. ‘Molly Mahone.’ �...Herman Benson,’ he replied, letting go of me and stepping back so abruptly that I almost reeled against the hot stove. He thrust his right hand out toward me. ‘Glad to meet you, Molly.’ I laughed again, and we shook hands. He didn’t let go, and instead, pulled me toward him, embraced me, and kissed me again. The smoke alarm went off (no, not from the kiss, the. I wanted to be this subject. I wanted to be helpless to him. I knew that from the moment he put his hand on my shoulder and told me, "Alex. I see a lot of greatness in your work." Praise that was longed for, I needed it and the touch alone made my knees weak.I had to play it cool, with my reputation on the line. "Yeah? Th-that's cool, I guess. Thanks for saying that." I didn't look up at him, to meet those steely brown eyes of his, to look into that face. It was far too much that he. More

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