silence filled in quickly in the wake of his voice. Marc pursed his lips and peered into the deep shadows of the wine cellar.

"If you don't come out," he said, "I'll damn well come in here and drag you out. How would you like that?"

Then he started as his question was answered with a muffled giggle.

Marc bristled. "Very well," he announced, "here I come!"

He strode to the wine cellar and presented himself firmly in the doorway. "One last chance," he said. "Are you coming out?"

He waited in the ensuing silence, suddenly assailed by a strange feeling of indecision. Then he cried out with dismay as a slender arm suddenly darted out into the moonlight and coiled gracefully about his neck.

"Now, just a minute!" Marc gasped.

But the arm did not hesitate. Tightening about his neck, it drew him toward the darkness. Instantly, a pair of warm lips pressed down on his own.

Marc struggled to free himself, but the mouth was extraordinarily tenacious. And another arm had joined the other about his neck. Then Marc freed his mouth and sputtered with objections.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

A winey breath impressed itself on Marc's nostrils. "Don't you know?" a voice murmured softly. "You should."

"Let go of me," Marc said stiffly.

"Not in a million years," the voice replied huskily. "I'm going to stick to you like skin. Forever and ever and ever and...."

"We'll see about that," Marc grated. "Whoever you are, you're trespassing. In more ways than one."

Reaching up he grasped the arms about his neck and attempted to disentangle them. They only tightened their hold. He tried to duck under the arms, but they moved downward as he did. For a moment Marc and his amorous captor crouched together in the dark, literally cheek by jowl. The other giggled.

"I'll bet we look terribly funny," she said.

"Stop that damned giggling," Marc fumed. "Things are bad enough without that."

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