"Mmm, good God, woman, what're ye tryin' ta do ta me?" Sean groans at the first brush of her lips, fumbling with his third match and having a tough go of keeping his eyes on what he's doing. If the bastard thing would just catch already, for the love of all that's holy...

Finally, the flames licking up along the papers manage to take hold on wood and he gives a short bark of laughter, impatience giving way to triumph in an instant. He spends what feels like the longest few seconds of his life making sure the fire's going to spread, and then he's turning toward her in a hurry, itching just to get his hands on her already.