Absolutely, Positively

each delicate fumble translated into a caress that threatened to make him explode.

    Then he was finally, achingly ready, and she was waiting for him, reaching for him. She wanted him.

    The wonder of it stole his breath. She wantedhim , weirdness and all.

    Molly lifted herself, opening for him, inviting him into her warmth. The hot, moist, womanly scent of her body took him on a journey to the heart of creation.

    Harry covered her mouth with fierce urgency. Her lips parted for him. He drove himself into her body, pushing past the resistance of her delicate muscles. She was tight. Unbelievably tight. Then he was inside, and she was holding him so snugly that he could not tell where his body ended and hers began.

    He moved within her, sinking deeper and deeper into her welcoming heat. Her legs closed around him. He felt her nails score his shoulders.

    Molly screamed softly, a passionate cry of release that Harry knew he would never forget as long as he lived. It was the most beautiful song in the world.

    But there was little time to savor the erotic notes. The tiny tremors of her climax tugged at him, demanding that he follow her into the vortex.

    He could not have resisted even had he wanted to try. And resisting Molly's sweet summons was the last thing he wished to do.

    Harry raced off the far end of the glass bridge and landed on the opposite shore of the abyss.

    He was safe. Molly was there with him.

9

    This was what came of taking chances.

    Molly opened her eyes to a wall of morning light. It poured through the windows, flooding the bedroom.

    So that's what making love with Dr. Harry Stratton Trevelyan felt like.

    She smiled. Then she grinned. There was nothing quite so deeply fulfilling for an Abberwick as having her curiosity satisfied.

    Molly suppressed an exuberant giggle with some difficulty. She had certainly never had her curiosity satisfied the way it had been last night. Her whole body seemed to be purring this morning.

    She stretched, propped herself on one elbow, and regarded Harry as he slept beside her. The intimate sight sent a shiver of excitement through her. He was spectacular. A magnificent male beast. Of course he wasn't handsome. Handsome did not even begin to describe him. Handsome was a ridiculously weak, soft, trivial word for such an outstanding specimen of manhood. He was wonderful. He was the most fascinating man on earth.

    Even sprawled facedown amid the rumpled sheets, Harry retained an aura of masculine grace. The muscles of his shoulders and back were sleekly contoured with unmistakable strength. His alchemist's hands looked powerful against the white linens. The harsh, exotic lines of his face were etched with the potential for passion and relentless will, even though his brilliant eyes were temporarily veiled behind closed lashes.

    Molly laughed silently at her own extravagantly romantic flight of fancy. She was obviously falling in love. Probably already there. So what? she thought. She had waited long enough for the right man to come along, long enough to take a chance.

    The responsibilities that had been a part of her for years suddenly seemed weightless. She had never felt more free in her life.

    She reflected on the revelations the night had brought. She now knew for certain that Harry's capacity for passion and his seemingly inexhaustible, implacable will were tempered by a startling vulnerability.

    She would never forget the look in his eyes last night when he had pleaded with her to make love to him. He obviously had not realized the depth of her feelings, or he would have known that there was no need to beg. He would have to be insensate not to know it now.

    She recalled the stoic lack of hope that she had seen in him during those first fragile moments. The bleakness in his gaze had baffled her. It still did. It was as though he had offered himself to her with the expectation of being rejected.

    A man like Harry did not willingly make himself vulnerable. He had been in a very strange mood, even for him, last night.

    She thought about the damp sweat that had glistened on his forehead and the strained lines of his face. The intense heat of his body had alarmed her initially. When she had found him standing alone in the darkness she had been convinced he was ill. Yet he had denied it. Then he had proven just how healthy he was by making love to her with driving vitality.

    Odd. Very odd.

    Molly considered the situation. Granted, her experience in these