with the details of his image.
He stood there wearing only a pair of briefs, his dark hair slightly tousled from the pillow, sleek shoulders looming powerfully in the shadows. He should have looked dangerous, but instead the sight of him offered great comfort.
"At least," she noted quite carefully, "there aren't two of you."
"Just as well. I wouldn't be willing to share you. Come on in, Jamie. I've been waiting for you."
The dark, persuasive words soothed and beckoned, promising warmth and passion in place of irrational fear. As if in a trance, Jamie took a step toward Cade. "I had a bad dream," she whispered.
"Did you? Come here, honey, and I'll help you forget all about it."
Jamie drew a long, steadying breath. She was awake. She knew what she was doing. "Silly of me to overreact. Haven't done that since I was a kid."
Cade's teeth gleamed for a moment in the darkness, and she heard the trace of masculine amusement in his voice. "You don't need any excuses to come to me, sweetheart." He held out his strong square hand.
"But if it makes it easier for you, by all means use them."
She trembled, but not with fear. Slowly she put out her own hand and let his fingers swallow hers.
Instantly she was caught and held. Cade drew her closer. "It's not an excuse, Cade. I really did have a nightmare." His nearness was extraordinarily comforting, she realized.
"You won't have any nightmares in my bed," he promised huskily as he tugged her gently forward. "I'll make certain all your dreams are very pleasant."
The elegant French nightgown whispered encouragingly around her ankles as Jamie allowed herself to be drawn into the shadows of the bedroom. She felt as though she were drifting, floating, gliding. Like a beautiful sailing yacht upon a warm tropical sea. Her senses were spinning.
"You'll assume too much…" she managed awkwardly, trying to put her uncertainties into words. "You'll think everything is settled; that you have it all back under control."
"Does it matter?" he whispered, closing the bedroom door behind her.
"Probably," she said softly. "It will be harder than ever to convince you that I'm not the same ripe plum I was this past summer."
"When I have you nestled in the palm of my hand again, you could probably convince me of just about anything," he said whimsically.
"You don't understand, Cade," she began earnestly.
He cut off the hint of urgency in her tone by sealing her mouth with his own. With a tremulous sigh, Jamie accepted the inevitable. Just as she had known this summer that the affair with Cade would end in bed, she knew tonight that there was no point trying to resist the pull he had on her senses. Cade was instantly aware of the surrender.
"Jamie, Jamie, you won't regret it. Here in my arms is where you were meant to be. We both know it."
The words were murmured achingly against her lips as Cade's blunt fingers found the delicate fastenings of the French nightgown.
"It will be different this time, Cade," she tried to warn. Her senses were already responding to the magic in his touch as he slipped the gown off her shoulders.
"Better. It will be better this time."
"You don't understand…"
"Hush, sweetheart. I understand everything. You don't have to explain a thing," he soothed. "And you don't have to worry about a thing, either. I'll take care of you. You can trust me. Just the way you trusted me this summer. I'll make everything all right again. I promise."
The gown slid to her feet, and Cade groaned as he let his palms glide from Jamie's shoulders to the budding peaks of her breasts.
"Oh, Cade," she whispered as desire unfurled within her.
"How could you ever pretend to yourself that there wasn't real magic between us?" he asked thickly.
"I don't know," she admitted simply and lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck.
"Jamie!"
She was locked against him, her breasts crushed tan-talizingly against the hardness of his chest. Cade's hand flattened along her back, sliding down to
He stood there wearing only a pair of briefs, his dark hair slightly tousled from the pillow, sleek shoulders looming powerfully in the shadows. He should have looked dangerous, but instead the sight of him offered great comfort.
"At least," she noted quite carefully, "there aren't two of you."
"Just as well. I wouldn't be willing to share you. Come on in, Jamie. I've been waiting for you."
The dark, persuasive words soothed and beckoned, promising warmth and passion in place of irrational fear. As if in a trance, Jamie took a step toward Cade. "I had a bad dream," she whispered.
"Did you? Come here, honey, and I'll help you forget all about it."
Jamie drew a long, steadying breath. She was awake. She knew what she was doing. "Silly of me to overreact. Haven't done that since I was a kid."
Cade's teeth gleamed for a moment in the darkness, and she heard the trace of masculine amusement in his voice. "You don't need any excuses to come to me, sweetheart." He held out his strong square hand.
"But if it makes it easier for you, by all means use them."
She trembled, but not with fear. Slowly she put out her own hand and let his fingers swallow hers.
Instantly she was caught and held. Cade drew her closer. "It's not an excuse, Cade. I really did have a nightmare." His nearness was extraordinarily comforting, she realized.
"You won't have any nightmares in my bed," he promised huskily as he tugged her gently forward. "I'll make certain all your dreams are very pleasant."
The elegant French nightgown whispered encouragingly around her ankles as Jamie allowed herself to be drawn into the shadows of the bedroom. She felt as though she were drifting, floating, gliding. Like a beautiful sailing yacht upon a warm tropical sea. Her senses were spinning.
"You'll assume too much…" she managed awkwardly, trying to put her uncertainties into words. "You'll think everything is settled; that you have it all back under control."
"Does it matter?" he whispered, closing the bedroom door behind her.
"Probably," she said softly. "It will be harder than ever to convince you that I'm not the same ripe plum I was this past summer."
"When I have you nestled in the palm of my hand again, you could probably convince me of just about anything," he said whimsically.
"You don't understand, Cade," she began earnestly.
He cut off the hint of urgency in her tone by sealing her mouth with his own. With a tremulous sigh, Jamie accepted the inevitable. Just as she had known this summer that the affair with Cade would end in bed, she knew tonight that there was no point trying to resist the pull he had on her senses. Cade was instantly aware of the surrender.
"Jamie, Jamie, you won't regret it. Here in my arms is where you were meant to be. We both know it."
The words were murmured achingly against her lips as Cade's blunt fingers found the delicate fastenings of the French nightgown.
"It will be different this time, Cade," she tried to warn. Her senses were already responding to the magic in his touch as he slipped the gown off her shoulders.
"Better. It will be better this time."
"You don't understand…"
"Hush, sweetheart. I understand everything. You don't have to explain a thing," he soothed. "And you don't have to worry about a thing, either. I'll take care of you. You can trust me. Just the way you trusted me this summer. I'll make everything all right again. I promise."
The gown slid to her feet, and Cade groaned as he let his palms glide from Jamie's shoulders to the budding peaks of her breasts.
"Oh, Cade," she whispered as desire unfurled within her.
"How could you ever pretend to yourself that there wasn't real magic between us?" he asked thickly.
"I don't know," she admitted simply and lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck.
"Jamie!"
She was locked against him, her breasts crushed tan-talizingly against the hardness of his chest. Cade's hand flattened along her back, sliding down to
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