"We can always blame the brandy if we're desperate for a culprit." He reached up, his fingers teasing along the edges of the dark fringe of her hair. It wasn't true, though. He didn't have nearly enough alcohol in his system to change how he'd behave, and he was glad of it. If he was going to do something like this with her, he wanted it to be them, not booze talking.

He sucked a soft, swift inhale. "Good," he whispered. He ran his hand down her side and across the front of her waistband, testing by feel to see how her pants were fastened and whether this would be a matter of tugging on a few lacings or something more complicated.