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Lamplight caught her hair and gilded it. Her eyes looked golden-brown and liquid against the creamy smoothness of her skin.
"Youre beautiful, Mariah. "
A thrill zipped through her. For the first time, the words didnt echo of the past or hint of mockery. She felt beautiful. A slow, trembling smile shaped her lips.
Smiling, he turned her around.
The passion in his gaze sent waves of heat undulating through her bcdy. Her quivering smile faded.
Slowly, without saying a word, he began to unbutton her dress.
Mariah felt his fingers brush the soft flesh of her throat and she flinched.
Anticipation and anxiety fluttered in her stomach. Her breathing sped up. She fought the urge to bal his hands away.
The buttons fell away, the fabric gaped. Cool night air slid in, caressing her skin in a tingling touch.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
As if by magic, the dress peeled away from her body and swished to the floor in a heap. She stepped out of it, kicked it aside.
"Open your eyes, Mariah. "
She shivered. He made her name sound like something out of a love song. Slowly she opened her eyes and stared up it him.
He smiled. "I want you to see me kiss you. " He bent toward her.
At first it was just a feather-stroke, a touch that lasted no longer than a heartbeat. A quiet sigh escaped her parted lips. It was different from the first kiss; that one made her feel desired. This one made her feel loved.
She closed her eyes, letting herself pretend—just for now—that they loved each other.
His mouth moved against hers. She felt the firm softness of his lips forming to hers, melding, joining. At the slow, steady contact, she felt the first pulsing strands of desire.
He drew back slightly, so that their lips were a hairs-breadth apart. She frowned and strained toward him, wanting more.
His tongue dragged lazily along her lower lip, tasting, exploring the full curve, then dipped into her mouth. The warm, liquid tip of it flicked against hers, causing a lightning bolt of heat to lodge in her chest.
He pulled her against him, hard. The kiss turned hot and demanding and passionate.
Marians heart slammed against her rib cage and pounded a breathless, stacatto beat. A deep, formless longing engulfed her, made her ache and pulse and need, for
. . . something.
The feelings scared and exhilarated her. She felt blissfully alive. She wanted to touch him, to explore his body, but she couldnt force her arms to move.
His hands slid down her neck again, and she shivered uncontrollably as first one, then another finger slipped beneath the lacy eyelet of her chemise. He moved gently, with excruciating slowness, peeling the fabric back from her tingling flesh.
Half-naked, she shivered.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled them up, forcing her hands around his neck. She clung to him, feeling the soft steel of his neck, burying her fingers in his hair. The kiss deepened, became painful and intense. She pressed herself against him wantonly, achingly aware of his coarse, wiry chest hair on her nipples.
With a groan, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, letting her settle gently into the mounds of twisted sheets and blankets. The harsh, thick wool felt scratchy beneath her naked back, the sheets smooth and cool.
In the grip of her awakening sensuality, she noticed everything. The softness of the sheets, the coolness of the air on her skin, the moonlight spilling through the silvered windowpane.
Mad Dog kicked the door shut and came back to bed. But he made no move to join her; he just stood there, staring. His eyes were narrowed, and as dark as tarnished steel. Everywhere he looked, she felt singed.
She lay there, breathing hard, half-naked. She should have felt shame or fear, or any one of a dozen debilitating emotions. But she didnt. Desire drugged her, made her feel sleepy and wide-awake at the same time.
