Passion & Scandal

     Steve gave her a narrowed look. "Sooner or later," he warned her, "that mouth's gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble."
     Willow pursed her shiny red lips at him in an exaggerated kissing motion. "Promises, promises," she taunted and turned to stroll toward the bar ahead of him, giving him a good look at the back of her snug black dress, which came to a V just below the curve of her waist.
     "Good God Almighty, woman," Steve rasped hoarsely, and she knew she'd hit her mark. "I'll get even with you for this," he growled.
     Willow laughed and kept on walking. "You're certainly welcome to try," she taunted.
     He caught up with her and turned her around to face him. "You want to yank on my chain a little more, fine. But this is between you and me, sweetheart. Let's keep it that way."
     He bent down and pressed a hard, possessive kiss on her astonished mouth, then whirled her around again and, hands firmly on her shoulders, headed her toward the bar.
     "You can let go of me any time now," she said as they threaded their way through the crowd.
     "Are you going to behave yourself?"
     "Define behave," she retorted.
     "Willow..." he said warningly and tightened his hands.
     "All right, tough guy. I'll behave."
     He let go of her.
     "But only because I wouldn't want to be responsible for a bar brawl," she added.
     He grinned at her. "God, you're a piece of work," he said admiringly.
     Willow bent her head, refusing to let him see her smile, and dug into her evening bag. "Here," she said and handed him a tissue. "Wipe your mouth off. You've got lipstick all over it."
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