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He turned her in his arms, drew her against him, lifted her off her feet so that her head was above his and he kissed her, swallowing the last of her cries, knowing that he—and only he—had brought her such pleasure.
Would ever bring her such pleasure.
-Slowly, he lowered her the length of his body.
"Undress me," he said, against her mouth.
She tried, but her hands were shaking. And he couldn't wait, not anymore. He undressed them both, scattering his clothes and hers, tearing things, ripping them in his desperate haste to carry her to the bed, sink into her silken heat, to cover her soft body with the hardness of his. Gently, he manacled her wrists with his hands and lifted her arms above her head as he sucked on her breasts, licked her throat, buried himself in her slowly, slowly, slowly until, at last, she pleaded for release.
He let go of her hands and she wrapped her arms around him, wrapped her legs around him, took him so deeply inside her that he couldn't think. And, when he knew she was on the brink, he said, voice hoarse with passion, "Look at me, Alex. And say my name."
Her lashes lifted. Tears glittered like starlight in her eyes.
"Travis," she whispered. "Travis. Travis. Trav—"
He groaned, drove deep, and the world shattered for them both.
Travis awakened slowly, blinked his eyes against the sunshine and inhaled the sweet fragrance of the incredible woman who'd spent the night in his arms.
A smile spread across his mouth as he sent up a quick thank-you to whatever gods might be in the vicinity for letting him wake up and find that the night—the long, wonderful night—had not been a dream.
Carefully, moving so as not to disturb her, he rose on his elbow and gazed down at Alex's beautiful profile. She lay with her head pillowed on his arm and her backside snugged into the cradle of his hips.
Very snug, he thought, as the warmth of that curving bottom sent an early-morning wake-up call zinging through his blood.
But he wouldn't wake her. She needed her rest, after the night they'd spent. Besides, he wanted to watch her. Just watch her, as she slept.
Her hair streamed over her shoulder, a cascade of golden silk. Her lashes lay thickly on her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted. One hand was tucked beneath her pillow; the other lay on top of it. It was a lovely hand, he thought, with long fingers and blunt-trimmed, unvarnished nails. Last night, he'd sucked those fingers into his mouth, one by one. Such a simple thing, but there'd been nothing simple in the way his body had tightened as he'd watched Alex's pupils grow black with each stroke of his tongue.
Hell.
Travis stifled a groan and drew back enough to put a discreet inch between Alex and himself. He'd made love to her endless times through the night but he wanted her again, right now, with a hunger so intense that he might as well have spent the past hours in a monastery.
He wouldn't touch her, though. Not yet. She was so soundly asleep.
But he could look.
Slowly, carefully, inch by tantalizing inch, he drew down the blanket that covered them.
How beautiful his Princess was.
The soft curve of her shoulder. The roundness of her arm. The fullness of her breasts and the curve of her hip...
The sweet, honeyed taste of her, against his seeking mouth.
His seeking mouth.
Travis rolled closer and kissed her throat. He kissed her shoulder, nuzzled her underarm. He stroked his hand gently along her until she sighed, rolled onto her back...
And awakened.
He watched her, knew the exact second she remembered where she was and what had happened. Would she regret it? Would she turn to ice, as she had the last time she'd awakened in his arms?
He waited, poised above her, for the first time in his life anticipating, and dreading, a woman's rejection.
If she tried to toss him out this time, he'd go without a word. Hell, no. He wouldn't do that. If she tried to toss him out, he'd pin her to the bed, kiss her until she admitted the truth, that she wanted him now, that she'd wanted him then...
A radiant smile curved Alex's lips.
"Good morning," she said, and held up her arms. Travis went into them like a man returning home.
They drove back to the vineyard, this time walking through the endless rows of grapes with their arms around each other.
"I love it here," Alex said softly.
Travis looked down at the bright head nestled against his shoulder and smiled. "Then why are you selling it?"
She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Peregrine loses money, year after year."
"Well, of course it does."
Alex laughed, drew away from Travis's encircling arm and plucked a leaf from a vine.
"I know this may astound you, Mr. Baron, but a property is supposed to make money."
"This isn't a property, Ms. Thorpe. It's a philosophy."
