First Impressions

triumph.
    His sanity shattered. Not knowing what he did, Vance seized her shoulders, rolling her over roughly, driving inside her with all the fierce, desperate strength that was pent up in him. Passion hammered through his core. Need was delirium.
    She cried out as her hips arched to meet him, but he was far beyond any control. Harder and faster he took her, never feeling the bite of her nails on his flesh, barely hearing her harsh, quick breathing. She dragged him closer when he could get no closer. He drove her, drove himself to a crest that was dangerously high. Even the plummet was a shattering thrill.
    She was shuddering beneath him, dazed, weak, powerful. Experimentally, Vance ran a hand over her arm, then linked his fingers around it. His thumb and forefinger met. “You’re so small,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to be rough.”
    Shane brushed a hand through his hair. “Were you?”
    His sigh ended on a chuckle. “Shane, you make me crazy. I don’t usually toss women around.”
    “I don’t think this is a good time to go into that,” she said dryly.
    Shifting, he supported himself on his elbow so he could look down at her. “Would it be better to tell you that you inflame me into violent seizures of passion?”
    “Infinitely.”
    “It appears to be true,” he murmured.
    She smiled at him, running her hand down his shoulder to the arm taut with muscle. “Would you rather I didn’t?”
    “No,” he said definitely, then covered her laughing lips with his.
    “Actually,” she began in a considering tone, “since you do the same to me, it’s only fair.”
    He liked seeing her with the sleepy, just-loved look on her face. Her eyes were soft and heavy, her mouth slightly swollen. With shifting shadows and a red glow, firelight danced over her skin. “I like your logic.” Gently, he traced the shape of her face with a fingertip, imagining what it would be like to wake beside her every morning. Shane captured his hand, pressing his palm to her lips.
    “I love you,” she said softly. “Will you get tired of hearing that?”
    “No.” He kissed her brow, then her temple. Slipping an arm under her, he drew her close. “No,” he said again on a sigh.
    Shane snuggled, running a casual hand over his chest. “The fire’s getting low,” she murmured.
    “Mmm.”
    “We should put some more wood on.”
    “Mmm-hmm.”
    “Vance.” She tilted her face to look up at him. His eyes were closed. “Don’t you dare go to sleep. I’m hungry.”
    “God, the woman’s insatiable.” After a long sigh, he cupped her breast. “I might find the energy with the right incentive.”
    “I want my dinner,” she said firmly, but made no move to stop his caressing hand. “
You’re
going to reheat the soup.”
    “Oh.” Vance considered that a moment, running a lazy finger over the peak of her breast. “Aren’t you afraid I might interfere with that special touch you have?”
    “No,” she told him flatly. “I have every confidence in you.”
    “I thought you might,” he said as he sat up to tug on his jeans. Leaning over, he planted a quick kiss on her mouth. “
You
can toss some logs in the fire.”
    But after he had gone to the kitchen, Shane lay dreaming a moment. The hiss of the fire was comforting. She drew the soft flannel of Vance’s shirt closer around her, smiling as his scent stayed with her. Could it really be true that he needed her so much? she wondered sleepily. Love, yes, and desire, but she had a deep, innate knowledge that he very simply needed her. Not just for lovemaking, for holding, but to
be
there. Though she was unsure what it was, Shane knew there was something she had—or something she was—that Vance needed. Whatever she brought to him, it was enough to balance his anger, his mistrust. Fleetingly, she wondered again what had caused him to retreat behind cynicism. Disillusioned, he had said. Who or what had disillusioned him? A woman, a friend, an ideal?
    Shane watched the sizzling red coals in the fire and wondered. The anger was still there. She had sensed it when he had demanded to know if she would take him just as he was. Patience, she told herself. She had to be patient until he was ready to share his secrets with her. But it was difficult for Shane to love and not try to help. Shaking her head, she sat up to rebutton her shirt. She’d promised him that love was enough for tonight; she had to abide by it. Tomorrow would be soon enough for problems. Expertly,