hiss. âThis time as if you mean it.â
âJeb.â Nicole put a staying hand on his chest, needing room to think. To breathe.
âNow!â His fingers curled around her shoulders, driving into them, lifting her to him. âLike this,â he muttered, and something ignited the cold ashes of his gaze as his mouth closed over hers.
His kiss was harsh, the fierceness of his grip an omen of bruises tomorrow. Ten of them, one for each punishing fingertip. Their ache was a memory unrelieved even as his hands slipped to her hair, cupping her head in his palms, drawing her closer still. The thrust of his body against hers was hard, as fierce as his touch.
His hands tugged back her head, his mouth scorched the flesh of her throat as it ranged over it. A sound, a sigh or cry, shuddered through him and he drew her closer, closer, his body a brand.
âLike this,â he breathed against her skin as he felt her yield. His kiss was punishment, his mouth still harsh, demanding she yield more and yet more.
Nicoleâs head was spinning, her heart racing. No man had held her as Jeb was holding her. None had provoked her or angered her as he, demanding what could very nearly destroy her. Allowing no refusal.
Then there would be none.
âNo.â She muttered her anger against his lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her nails furrowing his scalp. âLike this.â
Her mouth opened beneath his, her teeth catching the tender curve of his bottom lip. Jeb groaned, but not in pain, and his tongue teased over hers. Anger vanished in the avalanche of more primal needs and Nicole was spinning, falling into a world sheâd never known. He tasted of brandy and desperation, and she never wanted it to stop. Never wanted to let him go.
Yet even as she clung to him, he was stepping back, catching her wrists in a gentler grasp, dragging them down his body. She could feel the force of his heartbeat, and the ragged rise of his chest as he struggled for calm.
âYes,â he said softly. âLike that.â Drawing her to his side, he draped an arm about her shoulders. âPut your arms around my waist. Now, lean your head on my shoulders. Weâre going to walk very carefully into the darkness. Two desperate lovers seeking a secret place to make the love they feel.â
Nicole tensed and would have pulled away, but he kept her close. âEasy. Youâve played your part, donât lose it now.â In a whispery singsong, he encouraged her, praised her, until the darkness of a gigantic magnolia swallowed them. âGreat. Youâre doing great.â
Releasing her he stripped off the jacket heâd worn to satisfy whatever dress codes the Saracen might impose. Spreading it on the ground, he took her hand and drew her down with him.
Nicole had gone beyond objection, a part of her knew dimly he wouldnât listen. When he kissed her again, she responded. Playing her role, she insisted, even as he leant her back, pillowing her head on his jacket.
Rising over her, Jeb brushed a leaf from her hair with a tenderness belying the violence of his kiss. âWill you be afraid?â
She moistened her dry lips with her tongue and found she tasted of brandy. Jeb wouldnât let any harm come to her. âNot as long as youâre near.â
He smiled and touched the bridge of her nose. He couldnât see the scar, but he knew it was there. He knew how sheâd gotten it. She hadnât been afraid then, when he was with her. She was a brave lady, braver than she knew. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, âHold that thought, sweetheart, and Iâll be back before you know it.â
Then he was gone, fading into a wall of black.
Sweat beading her face, Nicole lay frozen, daring to make no sound. She knew where he was going and why. And she was afraid, but for Jeb, not herself. Beneath the canyon like darkness of the magnolia, silences were deeper, magnifying tiny sounds
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