Stranger on the Shore by Carol Duncan Perry Page A

you gave me a head start," she said, letting her head fall forward and resting her cheek against his chest. The feel of his sun-warmed flesh against her skin further complicated her efforts to control her labored breathing. She knew she should move away, but the steady beating of his heart beneath her ear was hypnotic.
    Slowly her breathing returned to normal as she relaxed in his arms.
    "Better now?" he asked, easing her slightly away from him.
    Sarah nodded, afraid to trust her voice. His hand, casually stroking her back, seemed to be interfering with her vocal cords.
    "Good. Then I can claim the victor's prize." Before she realized his intention, he lowered his head to claim her lips.
    Sarah couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She found herself helpless, held fast, not by the arms that still cradled her gently but by his searing mouth. The heat exploded like a summer grass fire. She felt limbless in his embrace and unable to move even when he broke the contact and lifted his head.
    Jordan had intended only a brief kiss, a playful reward, a token of victory. But the moment his lips had touched hers, he knew his impulse had gone awry. He lifted his head to find his vision filled with the sight of flame burning in the depths of her eyes. With a moan, he recaptured her lips.
    He gathered her closer, one hand splayed against the side of her face, and held her firmly against him as he raised his head and moved toward the bank. His lips sought hers again as he climbed from the water, breaking contact briefly as he knelt to lay her in the center of the quilt. Leaning over her, still on his knees, he cradled her face, cupping it in his hands as his lips moved softly against hers. His breath fanned against her cheek as he traced the contours of her face with his mouth, touching her eyelids, feathering her cheekbone, returning with unerring accuracy to the sweetness of her lips.
    Sarah felt his hands, so strong, so gentle, drift from her face. She gave an inarticulate cry and moved closer to him, wanting the caress of his fingers against her flesh. She released her hands from the back of his neck, running them, palms open, across his shoulders and down his bare back, as she gloried in the play of muscle and sinew beneath her touch.
    Jordan's lips mouth moved along the sensitive skin at the side of her neck, teasing her earlobe, capturing her fluttering pulse. He shifted, stretching out full-length beside her while his hands lightly skimmed her body. Everywhere flesh touched flesh, the contact burned like molten fire.
    Her hands slid along the strong column of his neck, tracing his collarbone with the tips of her fingers, caressing the hollow of his throat, moving downward to the fine hair that curled along his chest.
    A low moan escaped from the back of his throat. With a delicate touch, he molded the indentation at her waist and brushed his fingers across her naked midriff. Then his palms moved upwards until the weight of her breasts rested in them, his thumbs caressing her sensitized nipples through the silky material of her swimsuit.
    His touch added fuel to the flames flickering through her veins. His mouth swallowed the small moans of pleasure escaping her lips. He groaned again, then dipped his head to nuzzle aside the soft fabric of her swimsuit. Sarah gasped, arched closer and let herself float on a cushion of sensation. She was only vaguely aware of the shudder that rippled through Jordan's body when he pulled her against him.
    For a moment, he held her tightly, as a drowning man might grasp a buoy, then he was gone, leaving her shaking, confused and bereft. Dazed and uncomprehending, she looked to where he sat on the far side of the quilt, his arms hugging his legs, his head resting on his knees.
    Her fingers fumbled awkwardly in her effort to rearrange her halter. She and Jordan were strangers—more than strangers—they were opposites. Yet they had nearly... She had all but come apart in his arms. She shivered in spite of