He picked her up and carried her into the living room. The glowing embers of the fire cast an enchanted golden light on the scene. Her head spun a little and her feet left the earth. The next thing she knew, she was lying flat on her back on the rug in front of the hearth.
He followed her down onto the floor, sprawling across her, anchoring her beneath him with one heavy leg flung across hers, his weight pushing her into the thick wool. She pushed her hands up under his pullover until she touched bare skin.
He undid the long row of buttons that closed her white linen blouse and then he unfastened the next set, the ones that sealed her long, white skirt.
"This is like opening a birthday present," he said when he reached her waist. "I've got this nearly overpowering urge to just rip into it."
"I know just how you feel," she said, struggling to free him of his sweater.
He laughed a little and sat up briefly beside her. Crossing his arms at his waist, he grasped the hem of the garment and hauled it off over his head in a single fluid movement.
"Much better." She smiled appreciatively at the sight of his firelit shoulders. "Much, much better."
Deeply intrigued by the ripple of skin over muscle, she reached out one hand and threaded her fingers through the crisp hair that covered his chest. He sucked in his breath and groaned.
He went back to work, unfastening buttons one by one until he reached the hem of her skirt.
"Best present I've had in a long, long time." He put one hand on her bare skin just above the band of her white lace panties. He flexed his fingers gently. "Definitely worth the wait."
The touch of his big, warm palm on her midsection sent shock waves through her. She stirred, feeling sinuous and incredibly sexy beneath his touch.
He leaned over her to take her mouth again. His fingers moved, sliding up her rib cage to rest just beneath her br**sts. By the time the kiss had ended she was no longer wearing her bra.
He moved his lips to one nipple and tugged. She gasped and sank her nails into the contoured muscles of his back.
Time became meaningless. The wild night flowed around them, closing them off from the outside world. She was vaguely aware of the winds raging outside the cottage, but here in this intimate, magical place there was another reality, a world where every move brought new wonders and new discoveries.
When Nick found the tight, throbbing nub that was the epicenter of the small storm taking place inside her, he stroked lightly with fingers he had dampened in her own dew. At the same time he slid two more fingers just inside and probed gently.
Without warning, the gathering energy that had created such a delicious tension exploded. She barely had time to cry out in surprise before she tumbled headlong into a bottomless pool.
When she eventually surfaced, she was breathless and joyous with the pure pleasure of it all.
Nick looked bemused by her reaction. His mouth curved slightly. "You okay?"
"Oh, yes. Yes, indeed, I am very okay." She drew her fingertips slowly down his chest and belly until she could cup his heavy erection. "Never better. Yourself?"
He grinned slowly, a sexy, anticipatory smile that sent little sparkling shards of excitement through her.
"Going to be okay real soon," he promised.
He settled heavily between her thighs. In the firelight his face was tight and hard with the effort he was exerting to maintain his control. He used one hand to guide himself carefully into her.
He was larger than she had anticipated. In spite of the unbearable sense of urgency and readiness, she was startled by the tight, full feeling.
"Nick."
He paused midway.
"Don't you dare stop now." She grabbed his head in both hands, spearing her fingers into his hair, and lifted herself against him.
He plunged the rest of the way, filling her completely. When they were locked together he levered himself up on his elbows and looked down at her. His expression was one of desire and passion and other forces too strange and wondrous for her to label with words. But she knew the power of those driving, elemental waves of raw energy. She knew them in her heart and soul because they were sweeping through her, too.
Nick began to move, gliding cautiously at first. But when she tightened her legs around his waist, he made a hoarse, husky sound and drove himself into her in a series of fierce, swift thrusts that seemed beyond his control.
She felt the intensity of his climax in every muscle of his body, heard it in his guttural shout of satisfaction.
When he collapsed on top of her she could barely breathe. She stroked his back from shoulder to hip. He was slick with perspiration. He was giving off so much heat you'd have thought that he was in the grip of a raging fever.
All in all, she thought, it was a wonderful way to go.
A cold draft woke her sometime later. She realized it was coming from the front door. Nick was leaving.
The shock of it brought her wide awake. She scrambled to her feet, clutching the chenille throw around herself.
"Nick?"
"Right here." He closed the door. "I just brought the flashlight in from the car. I'll leave it here on the hall table."
"Oh. Thanks." Maybe she'd been a bit hasty in assuming that he was running out on her already.
"No problem." He glanced at his watch. "It's after midnight. I'd better be going."
He was leaving. Couldn't wait to be on his way. Outrage and pain knifed through her. Well? What had she expected? This was Nick Harte, after all. He wasn't exactly famous for hanging around until breakfast. It wasn't as if she hadn't known exactly what she was getting into when she went into his arms earlier.
But it still hurt far more than it should. This was why she preferred to avoid risks, she thought. There were good, solid reasons for not opening yourself up to this kind of pain.
Nick crossed the small space that separated them and kissed her lightly.
"Carson and I will stop in at the gallery when we come into town to pick up the mail."
He turned without waiting for a response, slung his jacket over his shoulder, and went back toward the door.
"That would be nice," she mumbled.
He paused, one hand on the doorknob. "Is there a problem here?"
"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked evenly.
"Such as?"
"The Talk."
A terrible stillness came over him.
"You know about The Talk?" he asked carefully.
She was beginning to wish that she had kept her mouth shut. Maybe she would have had the sense to do just that if she hadn't been jolted out of her very pleasant dreams to find him already dressed and headed for the door.
