He was touching her, his hand on her lower back, his breath at her neck. Susanna's lips parted in a nearly inaudible gasp, her hands faltering in the cleaning. She ordered herself to push through the fog, to think. She turned her head slowly, not backing away from him even when it brought her face so close to his. "Who's to say it's not?" she breathed in an almost challenging tone. She wondered then if he might be just the type of man she enjoyed, preferred even; one who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to get it.