Even as he felt a pang of his own guilt and shame, lust rolled through him, hot as a desert wind. Her mass of curly hair was pulled away, piled at the nape of her neck; she was wearing one of those damnably oversized jumpers, and it was slipping off one shoulder, exposing the sleek line of her shoulder and clavicle. He wanted to sink his teeth into her pulse point, wanted to kiss the little shelf of her jaw. 