“Don't do this to me, Eliza. Please. I need you.” I looked at Paul. He was crying. “You don't need me,” I said, wondering whether or not I believed it. He gripped my face and kissed me. But it was a hard, painful kiss. A severe and bitter kiss. A kiss that seemed so black, so final, it was like death. “Happy fucking Birthday.”

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. He grinned and pulled me close again.“I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.”

“Why are you kissing me?” she squeaked out breathlessly.“God, how can I not?” He ran his hands up and down her arms. “I think you’re made for me to kiss. I need to kiss you. You need to be kissed,” he said firmly, as if he’d reached some decision that brooked no debate. This did not sound like the smooth-talking and self-possessed charmer of his reputation.”

“I turned my face to him and he kissed me, an unspoken need on his lips.”

“[Parker] ”We know why I kissed you last night, Maris.”“To frighten me off.”He frowned. “That doesn’t even merit an argument. I kissed you because you braved Terry’s and showed up everybody in the place, including me. I kissed you because just looking at you made me ache. I kissed you because I’m a rotten son of a bitch and your mouth looked so goddamn kissable. Simply put, I kissed you because I wanted to. It’s something I admit and you damn well know. But there is one question that’s driving me fucking crazy.”His eyes focused harder on hers and, by doing so, penetrated. “Why did you kiss me back?”

“Do not do that again," he said stiffly."Don't kiss me back then," I retorted.He stared at me for what seemed like forever. "I don't give 'Zen lessons' to hear myself talk. I don't give them because you're another student. I'm doing this to teach you control.""You're doing a great job," I said bitterly.”