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"REBECC
A?" DESMOND'S out-of-focus face peered down at her. He brushed his hand across her cheeks and forehead in a lingering caress. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision, and focused on his face.
Desmond breathed a fervent, "Thank the gods." Then he gently kissed the corners of her eyes. "You gave me one hell of a scare. I didn't know what I'd done to you."
He didn't know what he'd done? A sleepy smile pulled at the corners of her lips. If he didn't know, she couldn't tell him. She had no words to describe the wave of emotion that swept through her at their union. She'd never experienced anything like it before, and still felt shaken by its power.
"Thank you," she whispered. He had to know what she meant. He couldn't have rocked her to her very foundation without feeling something, too.
"Marry me," he answered. His eyes glowed with an echo of the light that had blinded her, and moisture glimmered in their corners. He'd been as affected by their lovemaking as she had.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"I mean it." He cupped her chin in his hand and looked deeply into her eyes. "Marry me."
His sincerity stunned her. People just didn't propose marriage to relative strangers, no matter how incredible they were together. If she'd succumbed to momentary insanity by making love with him, what sort of madness prompted his suggestion? She had to reintroduce a dose of reality to this conversation.
"We hardly know each other."
"I know you more deeply than I've ever known anyone. And you know me more than you'll admit." His velvet voice caressed each word, blanketing the statement in sexual innuendo. Rebecca tore her gaze from the hypnotic intensity of his eyes. Desmond Lacroix might be many things, but she'd never yet known him to be obvious. His words couched a deeper, hidden meaning. She was sure of it. But the way her wits had been scattered by their lovemaking, she couldn't puzzle it out.
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about this." He bent his head and kissed her, a slow, lingering kiss that roused the banked embers of her passion. Scant minutes after the most profound lovemaking she'd ever experienced, she ached for his completion again. But she refused to be distracted.
"I know that. But what else were you talking about?"
"Rebecca." He pushed himself away, to gaze sternly at her. "There is a time and a place to be a reporter. This isn't it."
"But I— "
He silenced her with a kiss. By the time he lifted his lips from hers, she'd become lightheaded. But she persevered.
"What I— "
He dropped another kiss onto her open lips. "No." A kiss. "More." A deeper kiss. "Questions." A kiss that seemed to reach into her very soul.
Closing her eyes and sighing, she abandoned her questioning. She couldn't recall what was so important, anyway. Nothing mattered except Desmond, and what was happening between them right now.
He rearranged the blanket and pillows so that she nestled in a cloud of softness that supported her but still left her open for his advances. Leaning over her, he kissed and caressed her face, her breasts, her neck, her shoulders, until she thought she'd go mad from wanting him. His nearness tantalized her, but every time she reached for him, he shifted out of her way and continued his patient exploration. Giving up, she relaxed and let him have his way.
Chapter 9
DESMOND WATCHED Rebecca's eyes flutter closed, a gentle half-smile sweetening her expression. The first time they'd made love, she'd surprised him by reaching out to him with her fledgling telepathic gifts. He'd felt the connection too late to prevent his own surge of power from sweeping through her. The backlash could have killed her, unaccustomed to psychic powers as she was. This time, he intended to give her pleasure without the danger.
He glided a caress down her arm, following it with feather light kisses. He lingered over the sensitive skin of her inner elbow, his tongue flicking out in a Morse Code message of submission and arousal. All the time, he listened to the constant whirl of her surface thoughts, punctuated by soft whimpers and moans.
When she balanced on the edge of agony and ecstasy, he broke off to trail kisses down to her hand. He nuzzled her palm, and took each finger into his mouth to suck lightly before moving on. He sensed her pleasure, but there were other things she'd enjoy more.
He lavished attention on her breasts, kneading them gently, then covering them with kisses. She whimpered, low in her throat, and he felt himself swelling in sympathetic arousal. Thoughts and images cascaded through his mind, but they were not his.
Trembling, he struggled for control. He finally managed to separate her thoughts from his, while still leaving his mind completely open to her. He'd never lowered his defenses so thoroughly before, but that was the only possible way he could detect a gathering of her telepathic power before she used it.
He swept his tongue over her already sensitized nipple, shivering as her pleasure flowed over him. She arched her back and buried her hands in his hair, drawing him closer. The turbulent wash of images strengthened, drawing his mind closer to hers as well.
They were too close. He pulled free of her mental hold, then reached up and untangled her physical clinch. He guided her hands back down to the bed.
"Lie back. Relax."
