Derek, his eyes dark with a simmering intensity, pushed Abigail against the cool, smooth wall. He moved in, his touch feather-light at first, a slow, deliberate dance of lips against hers.

A gasp escaped Abigail's lips, a sound lost in the murmur of the room. Her hands instinctively reached up, tracing the line of his jaw, seeking purchase in the fabric of his crisp shirt.

The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent, demanding, yet still infused with a sensual tenderness that left Abigail breathless.

Derek's power, a silent, unspoken language, was being exerted; and Abigail, caught in its current, surrendered willingly.