Dream of Me/Believe in Me

gulp but didn't look in her direction. The easier and more natural he was about all this, the sooner he thought she was likely to adjust.
    Without bothering to dry himself off, for the air was warm, he picked up the blanket and returned to the water's edge. “Come on, now,” he said gently and held the blanket open for her to step into.
    Slowly, not taking her eyes from him, she rose. Her arms were crossed in front of her breasts and her hair hung like a sleek mane over her shoulders. She took a step toward him and another. Only a few more and he would be able to enfold her in the blanket. What he would do after that, he wasn't absolutely sure. He had little experience with virgins. Unlike some men, he never sought them out. His first wife had left him with a marked preference for women who had long since shed their innocence without regret. But Krysta was … different. Or he had become different, he wasn't sure which it was. She aroused an odd mixture of feelings—desire, to be sure, but tenderness as well. There had been so little room in his life for gentler emotions that he wasn't sure how to cope with them. He could only try.
    And in the trying, he waited patiently for her to come to him, to cover herself, to leave him with the problem of how to soothe her fears, calm her natural nervousness, coax her to trust him. She did not. Instead, she took a deep breath and dropped her arms. Her gaze never left his as she reached up and took hold of the top of the blanket. He thought she meant to wrap it around herself but she surprised him … yet again. He would have to becomeaccustomed to that, he thought faintly, too absorbed in the watching of her to think much of anything at all. Her motions were spare and elegant, her expression grave as she neatly folded the blanket and handed it back to him. A soft flush stained her cheeks but she still did not look away. Bending down slightly, she lifted the hem of her shift and in a swift, graceful move, drew it over her head. It dangled from her hand as she tossed back her magnificent hair, took another breath, and said, “You were right. I would have won without this.”
    “You have won,” Hawk said gruffly and gathered her to him. Her courage moved him as much as did her beauty. But more than anything, it was her honesty that struck to his core. Honesty to face her fears and admit her desires. He could do no less.
    S HE WAS SHAKING WHEN HE LAID HER ON THE BLAN -ket and told herself it was from the chill of the water. But she knew better, knew she trembled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness at facing the mystery of a man. Yet was he truly so mysterious? Her eyes swept over him in the moment before he lowered himself to her and a wave of heat moved through her. Driven by a sudden impulse she could not deny, she reached up to him, cradling him in her arms.
    He sighed deeply as skin touched skin, bringing a strange sense of homecoming, she thought, and sighed with him. Their breaths mingled, lips touching, mouths joining. She tasted and was tasted, relishing the discovery even more than she had in those moments in the storm-lit stable. He surrounded her with warmth and care, holding his weight above her until she tightened her arms, drawing him nearer, needing to feel the strength and power of him.
    He ran a hand down the length of her, seeking, learning,over the full curve of her breasts, the indentation of her waist, the chalice of her hips to her smooth flanks and back again, his thumb teasing her nipple until she made a low sound deep in her throat and arched against him.
    Hawk shuddered with pleasure at her response. To hold such a woman in his arms, and she a virgin given to him as his betrothed, was more than he had ever imagined. Distant memories of disappointment and sorrow echoed one last time before they dissolved beneath the sheer impact of his relief. He took her mouth, drinking of her deeply. It was in his mind to go slowly, to do everything possible to assure her pleasure, but his mind wasn't working very well just then. Restraint eroded swiftly. If she would only be still … but no, he didn't want that and she wouldn't. She moved beneath him, her hips arching to his, her hands stroking, and made soft keening noises deep in her throat.
    His spirit leaped in response yet he slowed all the same, finding himself driven to savor her. Her breasts were high and full, perfectly fitted to his hands. Beneath them, faint shadows traced along her rib cage.