didn't know when he'd left Jabbar's side, only that his heat radiated through her damp clothing. His warm breath whispered across her neck.
"No." I'm afraid of my feelings for you.
"You could have fooled me." He pulled her wet hair from the back of her neck and expertly wound it into a knotted coif on top of her head; then he secured it with a scarf he unwrapped from around his neck. "There."
Lightly he massaged the back of her neck, tension slowly draining from her. She felt lethargic, and her knees were weak with wanting. She let her head fall forward, enjoying the play of his wondrous fingers upon her.
He flicked the buttons of her shirt, and the fabric fell open, her breasts free. Expertly he slid her arms free of the sleeves. When he finished, he hung the shirt near the fire to dry.
He didn't touch her, barely looked at her. She felt as if he did. Her breasts swelled and ached, the crests tightening to taut buds. Crossing her arms over her chest was natural. He stopped her.
"Now your breeches," he said.
"But..." She slipped free of the moccasins, unsure of herself and the feelings of vulnerability her nakedness evoked.
"Do you trust me?"
Angela did trust him--with her life and her happiness. She nodded then slipped out of her pants while he rummaged in her valise.
"Here."
He walked to her, holding out a black riding skirt and a white blouse. Quickly she slipped them on, unaware that while her back was turned he had disrobed and hung his clothes near the fire to dry.
When she turned around again, she stared openly. "You're beautiful."
He quirked one dark brow, chuckling deeply. "Beautiful?"
To Angela he was the embodiment of an ancient warlord come to life. She could well imagine him wielding his cutlass against his enemies. Surrounded, he would fight valiantly, until he vanquished his foe.
"Yes." She felt her smile all the way across her face.
"Come here." He held out his arms to her and she walked slowly to him, knowing he would hold her throughout the tempest.
Rain turned to hail, pounding the earth. Wild winds tormented the tree limbs, sending dirt and debris into the raging air.
The moment was wild and passion-filled.
He swept her into his arms and walked with her to the driest part of their shelter. "You are beautiful," he whispered, his breath touching her cheek. He smelled of tempest and fire, of wild, wild winds and unyielding strength.
He left her there for the time it took him to dress. When he came back, he pulled her into his arms. "Feel better?" he asked.
"Yes." She snuggled next to him, absorbing the warmth he offered, content to let the man of her dreams hold her. More knowledge about passion and love would follow, not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but she knew that soon he would make love to her and she would give all of herself to him. Then she would teach him to love her in return.
"Where are we going?" she asked, while she idly ran her hands across the muscles of his chest.
The moment that Alexi had dreaded had come. Not for one second had he doubted her willingness to become his mistress. But this question had tormented him.
He held her hand in his, their fingers intertwined. The tempest howled around them. " Europe ," he said softly. "Would you like that? To see the world with me? We can go to England , then France and perhaps on to Constantinople ."
Raw thunder filled the air.
Angela moved away from him. Instantly he felt the separation, the coldness that would surely come between them. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed each finger, a gentle smile on her face.
Lightning ripped the sky in half.
"Yes." The single word was a breathy whisper surrounded by the raging storm.
In her eyes he saw that she would go anywhere with him. His free hand rose to lift her chin higher, to demand confirmation of what he saw.
She answered. "I've always wanted to
"No." I'm afraid of my feelings for you.
"You could have fooled me." He pulled her wet hair from the back of her neck and expertly wound it into a knotted coif on top of her head; then he secured it with a scarf he unwrapped from around his neck. "There."
Lightly he massaged the back of her neck, tension slowly draining from her. She felt lethargic, and her knees were weak with wanting. She let her head fall forward, enjoying the play of his wondrous fingers upon her.
He flicked the buttons of her shirt, and the fabric fell open, her breasts free. Expertly he slid her arms free of the sleeves. When he finished, he hung the shirt near the fire to dry.
He didn't touch her, barely looked at her. She felt as if he did. Her breasts swelled and ached, the crests tightening to taut buds. Crossing her arms over her chest was natural. He stopped her.
"Now your breeches," he said.
"But..." She slipped free of the moccasins, unsure of herself and the feelings of vulnerability her nakedness evoked.
"Do you trust me?"
Angela did trust him--with her life and her happiness. She nodded then slipped out of her pants while he rummaged in her valise.
"Here."
He walked to her, holding out a black riding skirt and a white blouse. Quickly she slipped them on, unaware that while her back was turned he had disrobed and hung his clothes near the fire to dry.
When she turned around again, she stared openly. "You're beautiful."
He quirked one dark brow, chuckling deeply. "Beautiful?"
To Angela he was the embodiment of an ancient warlord come to life. She could well imagine him wielding his cutlass against his enemies. Surrounded, he would fight valiantly, until he vanquished his foe.
"Yes." She felt her smile all the way across her face.
"Come here." He held out his arms to her and she walked slowly to him, knowing he would hold her throughout the tempest.
Rain turned to hail, pounding the earth. Wild winds tormented the tree limbs, sending dirt and debris into the raging air.
The moment was wild and passion-filled.
He swept her into his arms and walked with her to the driest part of their shelter. "You are beautiful," he whispered, his breath touching her cheek. He smelled of tempest and fire, of wild, wild winds and unyielding strength.
He left her there for the time it took him to dress. When he came back, he pulled her into his arms. "Feel better?" he asked.
"Yes." She snuggled next to him, absorbing the warmth he offered, content to let the man of her dreams hold her. More knowledge about passion and love would follow, not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but she knew that soon he would make love to her and she would give all of herself to him. Then she would teach him to love her in return.
"Where are we going?" she asked, while she idly ran her hands across the muscles of his chest.
The moment that Alexi had dreaded had come. Not for one second had he doubted her willingness to become his mistress. But this question had tormented him.
He held her hand in his, their fingers intertwined. The tempest howled around them. " Europe ," he said softly. "Would you like that? To see the world with me? We can go to England , then France and perhaps on to Constantinople ."
Raw thunder filled the air.
Angela moved away from him. Instantly he felt the separation, the coldness that would surely come between them. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed each finger, a gentle smile on her face.
Lightning ripped the sky in half.
"Yes." The single word was a breathy whisper surrounded by the raging storm.
In her eyes he saw that she would go anywhere with him. His free hand rose to lift her chin higher, to demand confirmation of what he saw.
She answered. "I've always wanted to
Similar Books
