Witchcraft by Jayne Ann Krentz Page A

huskily as he drew his mouth reluctantly away from her own. His palms slid up under her cotton knit shirt, finding the clasp of her bra. When it came free he groaned and let his fingers glide around her ribs until the fullness of her breasts rested on the edge of his hands. "You must know exactly what I'm thinking. I want you, Kim. I've been wanting you for two months. I need you."

    "Yes," she managed breathlessly, answering all the questions he had asked, both implied and explicit. "Oh, yes, Cavenaugh."
    "Oh, God, Kim. Come to me, lady, and let me make love to you. I've been aching for you. You don't know what it's been like having you in my house but not in my bed." The ardent plea unlocked the last of her reserve. Kimberly wrapped her arms around him and made no protest when he pushed the cotton shirt up

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    over her head. Her loosened bra fell to the floor and Cavenaugh inhaled sharply as he drank in the sight of her breasts. "Firm and ripe." He ran his thumbs over her budding nipples. "Just like my grapes at harvest. I want you so much, sweetheart." Nestling her head against his chest, Kimberly closed her eyes and let the enthralling sensations sweep through her. Vaguely she was aware of Cavenaugh lowering her to the floor. She felt him spread the suede jacket under her before he urged her onto her back. And then he was lying beside her, undoing the fastening of her jeans. "We're all alone," he rasped.
    "Just you and me. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect. You're perfect." She smiled up at him, her eyes glowing with feminine mystery behind her half-lowered lashes. "I didn't think it could ever work between us ... "

    "Just let me do the thinking now, Kimberly. I'll take care of you. I'll make it good for you. I swear it." His palms tugged at the tight-fitting jeans until they were forced down over her hips. He dragged the bikini underpants along with them.

    A moment later she lay naked. Her body flushed under the heat of the desire she could read in him. Tremulously she put her fingers on the buttons of his work shirt. He rested his palm possessively on the flat of her stomach as she fumbled with the task of undressing him. "You're shaking like a leaf," he observed with passionate amusement. "I know."
    "Are you afraid of me?"

    "Do I look afraid?" He lowered his head to taste one of her throbbing nipples.
    "You look beautiful."

    "Cavenaugh, I'm not the only one who's shaking. Are you afraid of me?"
    "I probably should be," he growled, letting his fingers glide down to the juncture of her thighs. "Any sane man is afraid of witches." He seemed fascinated with the way her body moved instinctively under his hand. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and then began to struggle with his jeans.
    But he grew impatient with her fumbling and sat up to finish the job.

    Kimberly took in the sight of his completely nude body, fascinated by his obvious need. Strong and hard and powerful, he gathered her close, letting her feel every tough plane and angle of him. His fingers shaped her curves, exploring the softness of her as if discovering something totally unique. His unabashed delight in her was intoxicating, Kimberly discovered. She'd never experienced such excitement and anticipation.
    It was all swirled into a pervasive warmth that captured her senses. "I want you," she finally choked. "You sound astonished," he murmured as he forced her legs provocatively apart with his hand. "I am. I've never wanted someone like this," she admitted in absolute honesty. As if her words were more than he could resist, Cavenaugh moved, sprawling along the length of her, finding a place for himself between her thighs. The heat of him burned into her skin and the heaviness of his smoothly muscled body was a glorious, crushing weight that seemed to excite every inch of her. Kimberly caught her breath on a sob of expectation mixed with a strange trepidation as she felt