I’d never imagined that someone just looking at me could set me on fire. Why couldn’t Patrick look at me that way? But this was his father, and the feelings surging through my body were wrong on so many levels that I didn’t even know where to start listing them. This couldn’t be happening. What the hell had I done? I’d kissed my boyfriend’s father. He’d kissed me. And sweet God, how I wanted him to do it again. I should have felt guilty for kissing her, but I didn’t. From the very first moment I set eyes on Sylvie, I wanted her. I didn’t give a fuck that she was half my age, or my son’s girlfriend. I didn’t care about anything, except somehow taking her away from him and claiming her for my own. I intended to make her mine—completely mine—and know that no other man but me was ever going to touch her again.