One minute they were standing, the next he’d manoeuvred her to the ground and was lying on top of her. She felt so bloody good, so soft, so smooth where he was hard and rough. The contrast set off alarm bells in him and he leapt off her, rolling to his side, his chest heaving in time with his ragged breaths. ‘What the hell am I doing?’ he asked out loud, disgusted at himself. He had to be out of his mind. She was making him go out of his mind. ‘Pretty well, I thought,’ Brianna replied on a laugh. He didn’t know whether to be angry or amused. She was playing with him, damn her, much like a sleek aristocratic cat toys with a poor dumb mouse.