But now he poured all the longing, all the need, into this kiss.
He wouldn't be an easy lover or a gentle one. It wasn't in his nature to be either. But it wasn't tenderness she wanted; it was strength.
She wanted, for a little while, to forget everything except the mindless pleasure she felt in his arms.
His tongue sought hers, but this time there was no playful teasing. The hands at her shoulders were no longer soft and stroking, but almost bruising in their intensity.
"I've wanted you for so long," he murmured against her mouth.
Even as she felt the first stirrings of passion, she knew a sense of peace, as well. She had always believed that no man would claim her heart.
She knew now that she'd been wrong. She'd been waiting all her life for this man, this moment.
She took a deep breath and touched a hand to his cheek, allowing her gaze to roam the fine, strong bones, the sensual mouth.
"And I've wanted you, Thad." She touched a hand to the wildly beating pulse at his throat and thrilled with the knowledge that she was the cause of it.
"I tried to deny it, but now I realize there's no turning back. I want you to know,"
she whispered, "that I'm not afraid."
For a moment he couldn't speak. Her admission aroused him to more than mere passion. He was suddenly aware of his own fears and weaknesses, his own vulnerabilities. All his life he'd chosen a lone path, and a lonely one.
Now he was opening the door to someone with whom he could share.
But that someone could also hurt him more deeply than any bullet.
He was beyond fearing. He had to have her, whatever the risks.
He pressed a kiss to her palm.
"I'd never hurt you, Caroline."
"I know that." The knowledge was like a healing balm to her soul. Her life had been a jumble of pain and sorrow. But in this man's arms, she would find only pleasure and peace.
Except for the hiss of flames, the room was silent. The sounds of the night were muted, indistinct. She heard his heart thunder as he lowered his head and traced the fullness of her lower lip with his tongue. It was an achingly sweet gesture. She lay very still on the bed, absorbing the shock waves that pulsed through her. Her lips parted for him, but he chose to hold off the moment when he would claim them. Instead he surprised her by moving his mouth slowly across her face, from her temple, across her closed eyelids, to her cheek.
As he traced the curve of her ear, her contented sigh turned into a low moan of pleasure when he flicked his tongue deep, a prelude of what was to come.
Before she could catch her breath he brought his lips to her throat and ran kisses along her shoulder.
With a little gasp she clutched blindly at his waist and her fingers found a gap where his shirt had pulled away. The touch of her fingers on his skin seemed to electrify him.
His mouth covered hers in a kiss that left her breathless.
Heat. He felt the heat pour from her into him and was nearly consumed by it.
Lifting his head, he studied her through hooded eyes.
She reached for the buttons of his shirt, and when her fingers fumbled, he helped her until his clothes lay in a forgotten heap on the floor.
Her hands trailed over the corded muscles of his back and arms. She had never known how beautiful a man's body could be. Now she was free to explore, to learn, to study, to fill her inquisitive mind with yet another lesson.
"You're beautiful," she breathed.
She studied his face in the flickering firelight. It looked dark and dangerous, a face of mystery. He was a man who lived by his own rules.
A man who sought his own destiny.
"You're trembling, Caroline." Caroline. Caroline. Her name was like a beautiful litany in his mind. He would never grow weary of it.
She swallowed, alarmed by the desire that rocked her. Always before, he had avoided her name. Now, hearing it on his lips, spoken in such worshipful tones, she felt beautiful and cherished.
"You're cold."
"No." She could hardly speak, her throat was so constricted. Instead she shook her head before whispering, "It's the... wanting."
He felt a sudden thrill at the knowledge that she wanted him. This strong, defiant woman who had fought against such adversity was actually trembling for him.
His hands tangled in her hair as he drew her head back. "Look at me, Caroline."
She met his fiery gaze. In his eyes was a fierce look of desire.
"I'm trembling, too," he murmured as his lips covered hers in a hot, hungry kiss.
She melted into him. In his embrace her bones seemed to liquefy and she lay, soft and pliant, as he took the kiss deeper. He accepted her surrender for the moment as he tugged aside the blanket that had become a barrier between them.
share. But that someone could also hurt him more deeply than any bullet.
He was beyond fearing. He had to have her, whatever the risks.
He pressed a kiss to her palm.
"I'd never hurt you, Caroline."
"I know that." The knowledge was like a healing balm to her soul. Her life had been a jumble of pain and sorrow. But in this man's arms, she would find only pleasure and peace.
Except for the hiss of flames, the room was silent. The sounds of the night were muted, indistinct. She heard his heart thunder as he lowered his head and traced the fullness of her lower lip with his tongue. It was an achingly sweet gesture. She lay very still on the bed, absorbing the shock waves that pulsed through her. Her lips parted for him, but he chose to hold off the moment when he would claim them. Instead he surprised her by moving his mouth slowly across her face, from her temple, across her closed eyelids, to her cheek.
As he traced the curve of her ear, her contented sigh turned into a low moan of pleasure when he flicked his tongue deep, a prelude of what was to come.
Before she could catch her breath he brought his lips to her throat and ran kisses along her shoulder.
With a little gasp she clutched blindly at his waist and her fingers found a gap where his shirt had pulled away. The touch of her fingers on his skin seemed to electrify him.
His mouth covered hers in a kiss that left her breathless.
Heat. He felt the heat pour from her into him and was nearly consumed by it.
Lifting his head, he studied her through hooded eyes.
She reached for the buttons of his shirt, and when her fingers fumbled, he helped her until his clothes lay in a forgotten heap on the floor.
Her hands trailed over the corded muscles of his back and arms. She had never known how beautiful a man's body could be. Now she was free to explore, to learn, to study, to fill her inquisitive mind with yet another lesson.
"You're beautiful," she breathed.
She studied his face in the nickering firelight. It looked dark and dangerous, a face of mystery. He was a man who lived by his own rules.
A man who sought his own destiny.
"You're trembling, Caroline." Caroline. Caroline. Her name was like a beautiful litany in his mind. He would never grow weary of it.
She swallowed, alarmed by the desire that rocked her. Always before, he had avoided her name. Now, hearing it on his lips, spoken in such worshipful tones, she felt beautiful and cherished.
"You're cold."
"No." She could hardly speak, her throat was so constricted. Instead she shook her head before whispering, "It's the... wanting."
He felt a sudden thrill at the knowledge that she wanted him. This strong, defiant woman who had fought against such adversity was actually trembling for him.
His hands tangled in her hair as he drew her head back. "Look at me, Caroline."
She met his fiery gaze. In his eyes was a fierce look of desire.
"I'm trembling, too," he murmured as his lips covered hers in a hot, hungry kiss.
She melted into him. In his embrace her bones seemed to liquefy and she lay, soft and pliant, as he took the kiss deeper. He accepted her surrend
er for the moment as he tugged aside the blanket that had become a barrier between them.
He tormented her with hot, nibbling kisses across her face and neck and she lost herself in him.
He smelled of horses and leather and tasted faintly of whiskey and tobacco.
The dark, mysterious taste of a man. Her man. Her heart swelled at the thought. Her man.
In the firelight her hair was touched with flame. It flowed, dark and silky, against the paleness of her skin. He remembered the first time he'd seen her skin, untouched by sunlight, as pale as alabaster. Even then he'd wanted to touch it. Now he was free to touch, to taste. To possess.
He studied her eyes, gilded by the light of the fire, gleaming more brightly than a mountain cat's. In their depths he could see himself.
"God in heaven, Caroline, how I've wanted you."
He kissed her with a savageness that took them both by surprise. The kiss was by turns harsh, then gentle. Pleading, then demanding.
She smelled of soap and water and the disinfectant he'd used on her cuts and bruises. A hint of the evergreen forest clung to her. Clean, untouched, he thought. And he, in turn, was being cleansed by her love.
She tasted sweet. Sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted. And she was his.
His woman. To love, to cherish. To protect.
His lips roamed her throat and the hollow between her neck and shoulder, then dipped lower to capture her breast. Icy needles of pleasure skittered along her spine. But as he nibbled and suckled, first one breast, then the other, her blood quickly heated until it flowed like molten lava.
His hands, his lips, moved over her, drawing out all the hidden pleasures.
She lay, steeped in feelings, her body humming with need. Her hands fisted into the bedclothes beneath her and she arched herself. He gave her no time to recover before his lips followed the trail his fingertips had blazed.
With his tongue and fingertips he brought her to the first peak.
With the coarse blanket beneath her, his work-roughened fingers arousing her, she experienced pleasure she had never even dreamed of.
And still he drove her relentlessly higher and higher.
Shuddering, she struggled for air and arched against him. So this was the dark, mysterious pleasure that men and women had sought from the beginning of time. This was the treasure men killed for.
She touched a hand to his chest and felt the wild thundering of his heart.
It gave her a sense of power to know that it was her touch, her taste, that excited him. Drunk with the knowledge, she touched him as he was touching her, and was rewarded with a low moan of pleasure that escaped his lips.
As she grew bolder, he felt a hunger sharper and deeper than anything he'd ever known. Only Caroline could feed it. It was a thirst that only she could quench.
He struggled to bank his needs, determined to draw out the moment. He would make this first time a memory she could carry always in her heart.
Her touch was driving him mad with desire. As he moved over her, he whispered her name and his hand fisted in her hair. The need was so great now that he felt himself whirling toward madness. Desire clawed at his insides, seeking release. And still he waited, relentlessly drawing out every last sensation, every steamy pleasure, until, desperate, she clutched at his shoulders.
Her needs matched his, as did her strength. They came together in a storm of desperation and felt themselves thrown into a raging river of passion.
This was how he had wanted her. No longer cool, controlled, but desperate, demanding. His own control was gone, washed away in a flood of need that left him trembling.
She had known he would not be gentle, but it wasn't tenderness she craved.
It was fulfillment.
As they moved together, they whispered incoherent words of love. Each gave and took and gave until, fueled by the madness, they felt as if for one fleeting moment they had died. Still clinging, they raced to the stars and tumbled into a world of exquisite pleasure.
They lay, still joined, their bodies damp and shimmering. Thad's face was buried in her neck. Neither of them had the energy to move.
"Do you know how long I've waited to hold you like this?"
"How long?" she murmured.
"Since I first saw you in that torn gown and ugly hat."
She pushed against him.
"My hat was not ugly."
"It was. But then, you knew that. It was part of your plan." He rolled to one side and drew her into the circle of his arms. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he watched as it sifted through his fingers.
"And you pinned up all this beautiful hair in an even uglier bun."
She pursed her lips into a pout and sat up.
"Was there anything you didn't find ugly?"
He gave her a lazy, heart-stopping smile.
"You, Teacher. You took my breath away."
"Did I?" Pleased, she touched a hand to his chest, idly running her fingers through the crisp golden hair.
"Mm-hmm." He lay back, watching her through half- closed eyes.
"And I've been breathless ever since."
"When I first saw you," she said, trailing her finger along a thin, raised scar that ran the length of his chest to his side,
"I was afraid of you."
"And now?" Did she have any idea what her touch was doing to him?
How was it possible that the hunger could begin again so soon?
"Now I'm still afraid. But not of you. It's me." She lowered her lashes for a moment, shielding her gaze from him. He wondered if she knew how seductive that little movement was.
"You've made me think about things I never would have dreamed of. And made me want things I'll probably never have."
"Things?" His lips curved into a teasing smile.
"I hope one of them is me."
She looked suddenly shy.
"Thad?"
She met his eyes, then glanced away quickly. He could see the hint of color that flooded her cheeks.
"Are you very tired?"
He was puzzled.
"Not very. Why?"
"I thought..." She moved her hand lower until she heard his little moan of pleasure.
"Would it be very wicked of me to want you to love me again?"
He swallowed back the laughter that threatened. She was so serious.
"Yes.
Very wicked. "
" Oh. "
She drew her hand away and he caught it firmly in his and placed it back where it had been.
He could no longer contain his laughter. He threw back his head and roared.
"Teacher, I can see that you have a whole lot more to learn. So why don't we get on with your lessons."
He pulled her down until her breasts were flattened atop his chest. Her thighs were pressed firmly to his.
"Lesson number one. A gentleman should never refuse a lady's request."
Caroline propped her elbows on his chest and stared down into his eyes.
"Never? No matter how tired he is?"
"That's right." He kissed the tip of her nose.
"And lesson number two is, a lady should never climb on top of a gentleman if she wants him to sleep.
Especially if the lady and gentleman are missing their clothes." She tried to assume her classroom manner. It wasn't easy. Laughter kept bubbling up, making her eyes dance with mischief.
"Is there something I ought to know before we proceed?"
"Woman," he muttered thickly against her throat, "if I didn't know better, I'd swear you had lessons in how to drive a man mad."
"Am I? Driving you mad?" She pressed hot, quick kisses over his chest and stomach. Her hair swirled around him like a dark silken veil.
"Yes." His hand closed in her hair. With a moan he rolled them over until she was lying under him.
"But there are still some things I'd like to teach you."
"I'm willing to learn. I think you'll find me a good pupil."
He cut off her words with a slo
w, leisurely kiss.
Against her lips he muttered,
"Now lesson number three..."
With sighs of pleasure they tumbled into a dark river of passion. A place where only lovers can go.
Thad lay with one arm beneath his head. The other curled protectively around Caroline, who snuggled against his chest. He watched her while she slept and marveled again at the love he felt for this little creature.
For most of his life he'd been alone, yet he'd never felt lonely. Now the thought of waking without her beside him caused an unbearable pain around his heart.
She still had not confided in him about the stranger. He wouldn't press her.
When the time was right, when her trust in him was solid, she would tell him what he needed to know. This much he already knew--she would never have to face anything alone again.
Her lids fluttered open and he watched as she slowly awakened.
"Is it morning already?"
"Not quite. There's another hour or two before dawn." He touched a hand to her cheek in a gesture of tenderness. "You should sleep awhile longer."
"And miss seeing the sunrise with you?" She surprised him by drawing closer and pressing a kiss to his chest.
He felt desire surface instantly. How could it be that he could want her again? All night they had loved, slept fitfully, then loved again.
And each time it was wonderful, and each time different.
They had been rough and tender, greedy and giving, selfish and generous.
And this much he knew. He would never have enough of her.
"Do you think you might have something more you'd like to teach me?"
"Why, Miss Adams, I'm surprised at you." He lifted a handful of her hair and kissed her neck.
"Is that all you can think about?"
"Is there anything else?"
He lifted his head and thought a minute.
"There's food." He ran nibbling kisses along her shoulder.
"We didn't eat a thing yesterday."
She shivered.
"That's true."
"And there's the fire. It's burned to ashes and the room is cold."
"Is it? I hadn't noticed."
"Then why are you shivering?"
She drew his face close for a slow, lingering kiss.
"I always do that when you touch me."