“Calmly, slowly, she reached behind with her left hand and came up against — yes, fabric. Fine linen, to be precise. So far, so good: she was inside a wardrobe, after all. The only problem was that this linen was oddly warm. Body warm. Beneath the tentative pressure of her palm, it seemed to be moving...With terrifying suddenness, an ungloved hand clamped roughly over her nose and mouth. A long arm pinned her arms against her sides. She was held tightly against a hard, warm surface."Hush," whispered a pair of lips pressed to her left ear. "If you scream, we are both lost.”

“He laughed, then became serious once more. "Mary............" The expression in his eyes set her heart pounding. "Yes?" Twice he began to frame a sentence, and twice his voice seemed to fail him. And she thought she understood. What could he possibly say to her now, when he was on the verge of leaving forever? Even something as simple as asking her to write to him carried a distinct sort of promis, the type of promise he was ten years and a half a world removed from being able to make. She forced a polite smile and held out her hand. "Good luck, James." Regret-and relief-flooded his eyes. he took her hand, cradling it for a long moment. "And to you." It was foolish to linger. She slid her fingers from his grasp, turned, and began to walk away in the direction of the Academy. She'd gone about thirty paces when she heard his voice. "Mary!" She spun about. "What is it?" "Stay out of wardrobes!" She laughed, shook her head, and began to walk again. She was smiling this time.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t think the etiquette manuals cover this sort of situation.” He leaned in close, his lips all but grazing her neck, and inhaled. “Mmm. You smell good, too.”She nearly choked. Took a step backwards, until her back met cold stone. “Th-thank you.”“That’s better. May I kiss you?” His finger dipped into her shirt collar, stroking the tender nape of her neck.“I d-don’t th-think that’s a good idea.”“Why not? We’re alone.” His hands were at her waist.Her lungs felt tight and much too small. “Wh-what if somebody comes in?”He considered for a moment. “Well, I suppose they’ll think I fancy grubby little boys.”

“Instead of answering her, he moved over her in a powerful rush. He took her mouth roughly, devouring her lips as his tongue plunged inside, tangling with hers.Her body surged to life, arching up into his. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he gathered her tightly against him. Their bodies were as fused as their mouths. Between her legs, she could feel him so hard. Hot.”

“When she reached the shallow end, Kingsley held out his hand and pulled her up, but she lost her step and fell into his arms, her body crushing momentarily against his.”

“I really wish you hadn't worn that sweater,'he muttered into her ear.'It's good practice for you,' she replied,her lips moving against his skin.'Tomorrow,fishnets.'Against her side,warm and familiar,she felt him laugh.”

“She tried not to slip her arms beneath his trench coat, or spread her palms across his broad, muscular back, or inhale the delicious scent of him, or rest her cheek against his hard, warm chest. She tried. And failed.”