Felicia fumbled, trying to explain. But before she could speak, Stephan's flawlessly handsome face loomed closer. His shadow enveloped her as he murmured, "Now, it's my turn."

"You–mmph…"

Her words were cut short. This was no gentle kiss. Stephan's intensity was breathtaking; it felt as if he intended to consume her. His hand tightened inexorably on her waist.

The kiss was a storm, a ferocious assault. He even bit her, and, unwilling to be outdone, Felicia bit back just as hard. Passion turned to battle; it was fierce and unyielding. It was unclear who yielded first or even initiated the fight—it simply happened.

When Felicia opened her eyes the next morning, her expression was complex. Stephan watched her, amused yet with a subtle sinking feeling in his chest. Fixing her with his gaze, he asked, "Do you regret it?"

Felicia's eyes widened. Last night had been impulsive, yet she was painfully aware of her reasons. She liked him; her heart stirred for him. It was entirely voluntary.

Her cheeks and ears flushed crimson, but she met his gaze firmly. "No, I don't."

Stephan froze, then smiled. "Felicia, I'll hold you to that."

"Yeah," she replied, blinking. Her heart had decided long before she'd taken that step. She would acknowledge her feelings, respond to his affection.

She didn't expect the barrage of kisses that followed. Utterly drained, she protested, "Stephan! Are you done yet?"

His muffled voice came from beneath the covers. She paused, processing his words.

"If I don't take care of you properly, what if you flip out and deny everything like last time?"

She was stunned. The man was shameless!

By noon, they were finished. Exhausted, Felicia left Stephan to his own devices. After freshening up, she found a table laden with food in the dining room—clearly, Stephan had ordered it.

Starving, she ignored his commandeering of her space and ate heartily. The food was exquisite, perfectly suited to her tastes.

She glanced at Stephan. "Did you have someone investigate me? How else would you know my preferences so well?"

Stephan ladled a bowl of mushroom soup, placing it before her. He smiled faintly. "No. I just memorized them from our few meals together."

His simplicity stunned her. Back with the Fullers—Dexter, Myra, Howell, Tabitha—none had ever bothered to observe her preferences. Yet Stephan had, despite their limited shared meals.

A subtle feeling stirred in Felicia's heart.