Excerpt:

He sauntered over to her, "Can you tie a bow tie?"

"I've helped Daddy with his sometimes."

"Good. I can't seem to get this damn thing to look like anything. I tried a clip on once and it popped off in the middle of a serious number. It was a bit difficult to remain straight-faced when I could hear giggles all over the hall."

"I can imagine," she laughed.

She positioned herself in front of him and tried to reach up to create a bow tie, but he was too tall for her and she suggested he sit on the vanity bench. He dropped down on the bench and she moved close to him. His knees were in her way as she leaned over him while she still tried to reach the tie. He parted his legs and she moved between them which put her into a much better position, but played havoc with her breathing. It became erratic and her awareness of him was acute.

He reached up and pulled her onto his right knee. His large hands lightly stroked the back of her neck and he ran his fingers through her hair tracing a line on each temple, letting them hesitate on either side of her mouth. He brought his lips close to hers and she leaned into him, inviting his kiss. She was vaguely aware she should stop him, but every fiber of her being yearned for him to kiss her. His mouth delicately touched hers, and wandered over her face and back to her lips. She broke the kiss and buried her face against his neck, moving her lips against his salty skin.

"Kristin," he murmured her name in low tones, almost a whisper.

"Oh! David," she groaned.

His slipped his arms under her knees and lifted her onto his lap. He tilted her head back and took her lips with his. His tongue teased her mouth until she opened it to him. She lost every coherent thought and became breathless and dizzy. She felt the need to melt into him and become a part of his very soul. Her reasoning mind kept trying to assert itself and remind her she had never completely lost her head before, and now was a good time to keep to that record, but all of her emotions vetoed the idea.

His hands caressed her and she could feel them bringing heat to the flesh under the soft robe. Her arms went around his neck and she gave herself over to his kisses, returning kiss for kiss. She awoke to some awareness of what was happening as she felt him loose the zipper on her robe, slide it down and slip his hands inside.

She pulled away quickly, feeling completely befuddled, but aware they simply had to stop.

"My God, David. Oh! my God," she whispered.

"Kristin, my love." David slowly eased her to a standing position and encircled her with his arms.

She desperately wanted to cast aside all restraint and give over to his magnetism, but her brain began sending strong stop signals.

"This has to stop right now," she whispered, without doing so. Her mind told her to pull away from his hard, seeking body, but the rest of her refused to follow suit.

"I know," he murmured in her ear while working his fingers back out of the robe and sensuously moving up her body. He closed the zipper while his mouth still sought hers. The kiss was soft, coaxing, lingering--a precious goodbye.

"I'm sorry, darling," he said. "I didn't mean that to happen, but I find it almost impossible to leave you alone."

"I think you'd better go," she said, while reluctantly pulling out of his embrace.

"Yes, if I ever intend to. I guess I can't just fail to show up for the concert, but right now it's my fondest desire to stay right here with you."

"No. You must go. Now!" she said.

"U-m-m, Kristin, I still need you to tie this tie."

She stood in front of him and expertly tied the tie as quickly as her shaking hand would allow. She stepped back and dropped her hands to her sides.

He turned and strode to the door, opened it quickly and looked back at her, letting his eyes linger on her for a minute before he closed it. She stood, holding her breath, unreasonably wishing he would return.

She stood in the middle of the floor for a few minutes, feeling completely bewildered. Had he called her, darling? What had just happened here? The kisses they exchanged rocked her to her toes and played havoc with her innards.

Author BIO: Reading was a big part of Dorothy Compton's life as a child. In the winter she curled up with a book at every opportunity. In the summer, when she wasn't hiking to the swimming hole with her best friend, along with her brothers, she was hiking to the small Carnegie Library in Collinsville, Oklahoma, to gather an arm full of books. Music also played a big role in her life as a child and it was a toss-up to decide which she liked most: music or reading.

She often wrote book reports for her friends and honestly didn't realize she was helping them cheat. She simply liked to read the books and the book reports weren't difficult. It also made her quite popular.

She won second place in a statewide short story contest when a senior in high school and felt she was destined to be a writer. Alas! An insensitive high school principal made some very negative remarks about her writing. No one bothered to tell her it was only one person's opinion so she simply dropped the idea.

After a few years of marriage and raising three daughters she felt the need for something more. She earned a Bachelor of Music Education degree from the University of Oklahoma with a minor in English.

She taught Vocal Music and English in the public schools of Oklahoma and Kansas. She also taught music privately. She still had an itch to write so when her husband retired they moved to Oklahoma City where she took two correspondence courses in writing. After her husband died she turned to writing as an outlet for her feelings. She loved writing and was quite surprised when she found a market for some of her short stories. Two of her five novels won honorable mention at the OWFI (Oklahoma Writers Federation Inc.,) contests. She'd love to sell everything she writes, but is firmly convinced the process of writing is a reward in itself.

She is the editor of PenTales, the newsletter for CORA (Central Oklahoma Roundtable of Authors) and has contributed articles to it and several other small publications. She belongs to three other writers clubs.

Dorothy shares a home in Oklahoma City with her daughter Donna and is still involved in music as well as gardening, sewing, swimming and basking in the achievements of her children and grandchildren. She taps these rich resources as material for writing. Her hope is to continue writing better and better books in the future.