too sure of himself. She knew what he was up to. "Just because you're handsome doesn't mean a woman has to fall at your feet."
"I never said I wanted you on the floor." Humor sparkled in eyes as dark as dreams and played along the edges of his mouth, hinting at dimples.
He strode across the room, unflinching and determined, the golden glow from the lamplight limning his height and his strong sturdy breadth. Sara tried to keep her heart from beating faster, her breath from growing thick, her blood from zinging with want as he sat down beside her, crossing one booted ankle to rest on his knee, leaning one elbow against the arm rest.
Her blood zinged, her breath thickened and her heart beat faster.
"This is what it would be like if you married me." How deep and rich his voice. How inviting, tempting her with a happiness she could never have.
But he didn't know that. Sara tied off the string and made a quick double knot, then hid it neatly. "This was a very pleasant evening."
"Because of you." His hand settled on her forearm, hot and tempting and just short of possessive.
Selfish want gathered inside her, in the secret place where she dreamed. Want for a life with this man who made her blood scorch, who made her melt at the simple touch of his hand. "Don't do this, Gabe. Please."
"You're happy with us. I know you are."
"How do you know?"
"Your face is too honest. It's there in your eyes, even now, how happy you are. That's one thing I like very much. You wear your heart."
"That just proves how wrong you are." She twisted away from his touch, guilt rising, and concentrated on starting another snowflake. Look what he thought of her, unable to deceive, unable to be dishonest
"Tell me why I'm wrong?"
"What's wrong isn't any of your concern, no matter how you try to make it." So soft those words, brushed with sorrow. "Can't you see that I plan to leave tomorrow on the train? I'll never return to Moose Creek. Ever. So we can't have a relationship. Don't you see?"
"I believe we can make a place for you in our lives."
Before she could argue further, his lips claimed hers in a kiss infinitely tender and oh so passionate.
She could feel his desire for her in the way he treasured her mouth with his. How she wanted him. Her chest thundered with desire for this man so true and tender. She tipped her head back, reveling in the sensations, both hot and sweet, of his kiss. Velvet heat and brushing tongues and trembling pleasure. Her whole body burned with it.
His hands wrapped around her neck, his fingers caressing the escaped curls at her nape. Hot sparks jolted down her spine. A want so great wrapped around her chest and banded tight, stealing her breath and all protest. She dared to press her hands to his chest and feel the rock-hard span of muscle and bone. How fast his heart drummed beneath her palm.
"You seem to like the way I kiss," he murmured against her lips, their breath mingling, before he pressed kisses over her chin, along the line of her jaw, down the length of her throat.
"I do." In all her life Sara had never felt like this, tingly soft on the inside, melting like butter on a hot stove. She wanted to wrap around him and hold on, to feel the iron-hard weight of his body pressing hers to the ground, to know what it would be like to make love to him, to share with him that bright, thrilling intimacy.
"You feel like silk." His lips brushed her collar, where somehow a few buttons had loosened. "You taste like dreams."
Dazed, she tipped her head back as she felt more of her bodice give way beneath his tugging fingers, buttons easing through fabric, first her dress, then her chemise until she was naked to his touch. His eyes widened, glittered with approval and then he touched her, tentative and tender and thrilling.
"You're so exquisitely made." His breath teased her nipples and then his tongue flicked around one pebbled tip.
A tight band of pleasure twisted straight through her abdomen. Sara closed her eyes,
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