Page 47 of A Treasure Worth Seeking

On silent feet she tiptoed closer, studying his face in repose. Her heart swelled with love. Love? Yes! She loved him. And it was gloriously right and painfully wrong. For a million reasons, it was wrong, but at that moment, her reasonable mind’s objections were overshadowed, consumed, obliterated by the love that suffused her.

Hoping not to awaken him, she reached out her hand and picked the glasses off his head. He didn’t stir. She set them on the table. His hair was springy and alive as the firelight danced on it. The temptation to touch it was too potent to resist.

The burnished strands felt like spun silk between her fingers as she brushed away a contrary lock that lay on his forehead. His eyes opened.

For what seemed an eternity they were held in suspended animation. Not daring to breathe and break this mesmerizing spell, they were content to absorb each other with unquenchable eyes.

He didn’t move any part of his body except his hand. He raised it and grasped Erin’s hand that was still poised above his head. His fingers closed firm and warm around hers. He brought her hand to his cheek and pressed it against that lean plane. Moving his jaw only slightly, he nuzzled her palm with his mouth until she felt his tongue in its center. Then he was kissing it with a fervor that intimated other love play.

Slowly, as if they were players acting out a dream, he drew her down onto his lap. The glass he was holding in his hand dropped to the rug with a soft thud. Her bottom fit snugly in his lap, her legs draped over his right thigh. Pushing aside the collar of her robe, he buried his face in the hollow of her neck.

“Erin, if you’re a dream, I hope I never wake up.” His voice was urgent and hot with desire.

She threw her head back and allowed his seeking lips more access to her throat and chest. “Lance, I’m no dream. I’m all too human. Lance—” His lips voraciously devoured hers. She was crushed against his chest as he encircled her with his arms. The hard drumming of his heart pounded in her ear. Their mouths melted together, fired by a torch that seared their souls.

“You taste like brandy again,” she said, nibbling at his lips. “Are you getting hooked on that stuff?”

“I’m hooked on this,” he mumbled while doing wonderful things to her ear with his tongue. “And this,” he said, raining soft kisses on the features of her face. “And this.” Now he was moving his chin down her chest. “And this,” he groaned against her breasts. One of his hands cupped her gently. Then he smoothed that hand over her stomach and abdomen and placed his palm over the mound where her lap curved into her thighs. “And this.” He pressed his hand against her intimately, molding his hand to the intricacies of her body with unerring accuracy.

Her limbs quivered and a fountain bubbled within her, making her moist and pliant with unconstrained longing. Her body sought more of his, drawing him closer by wrapping her arms around his neck.

He stayed her by gripping both her shoulders and looking deeply into her eyes. “Erin, I want you tonight more than I’ve ever wanted a woman in my life. But I could never live with myself if I took advantage of you—anyone—when you are as vulnerable as you are right now. Today your emotions have been running high, close to the surface. Are you sure this is what you want?”

For an answer her hands took his and eased them gently off her shoulders. Then she shrugged out of her robe. He drew his breath in sharply when he saw her nightgown. It was the one he had commented on while rifling through her suitcase that first day in this room. The pale blue silk highlighted the opalescence of her skin. The ecru lace that comprised the bodice fit tight across her breasts and left nothing to the imagination.

“Erin—” he choked.

Made courageous by his obvious appreciation, she pulled down the satin strap first off one shoulder, then the other. In a matter of heartbeats, the garment formed a frothy pool of lace around her waist.

He revered her with worshipful eyes. The firelight bathed her body with a golden glow and haloed her hair with shimmering light. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. And the most ethereal. He asked himself again if she was real.

To satisfy his mind that she was, his index finger reached out to brush the pink crest of her breast. He watched in fascination as it responded. Lowering his head he touched the distended nipple with the tip of his tongue. He heard her sighing his name over the cacophonous cadence of his own heart. As he knew it wouldn’t be, one taste of her wasn’t enough. His mouth covered the taut peak and drew from her breast a flavor more intoxicating than the brandy.

He stood up, lifting her with him, and as he did, her nightgown floated to the floor. Taking a few steps backward, he eased her down on the rug directly in front of the fireplace.

It surprised him, as it had before, when she watched so unabashedly while he undressed. For the first time in his adult life, he was self-conscious of his body. Her eager hands, clasping him to her when he lay beside her, dispelled any fears that she might not find him appealing.

He kissed her deeply, pressing her malleable body along the hard length of his. The logs popped in the fireplace. Their music was sweet accompaniment to the love words being exchanged.

Erin had never experienced this sense of helpless surrender, yet she reveled in it. Lance conquered her body, mind, and soul, but there was no protestation from her. His hands and mouth were weapons he wielded with precision, but the conquest was executed with excruciating tenderness.

He loved her in ways before unimagined. Kneeling at the gate of her womanhood, he stroked her, kissed her, coaxed her to the edge of fulfillment, but then led her back before she slipped over the brink, only to heighten her passion again and again.

Her hands wandered over his large frame with wondrous curiosity. She watched the hard muscles under her fingertips twitch with unleashed desire as she leisurely explored them. His nipples became aroused under her delicate manipulation. Shyness overcame her as her hand lowered beyond the point of his navel that nestled in silky, golden hair.

His whole body went rigid with anticipation. He waited. Then his pent-up breath was released in a long shuddering sigh when she timidly touched him.

“Yes, Erin. Touch me. Don’t ever be afraid of me. Never. Touch me. Touch me…”

His uneven words imbued her with confidence and a need to return the bliss he had given her. She grew bolder and closed her hands around him in a way she hoped was pleasing. The pulsating force she felt beneath her fingers and his gasping endearments were proof enough that her temerity was rewarded.

Covering her hands with his own, he held her against him and whispered thickly, “You weave a magic I’ve never known before, Erin. You are… you…”

He couldn’t finish. Their fusion was sweet, swift, and absolute. A moment later while they lay still, savoring the depth of their embrace, he raised his head and looked deeply into her slumberous eyes.

“You are the magic.”

Chapter Eleven

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