First Impressions

the cool sheets. “I’ll go get you some aspirin.” He slipped off her shoes, but as he started to pull the quilt over her, Shane took his hand.
    “Vance, would you just . . . stay with me?”
    Touching the back of his hand to her cheek, he smiled at her. “Sure.” As soon as he had pulled off his boots, he slipped into bed beside her. “Try to sleep,” he murmured, gathering her close. “I’ll be right here.”
    He heard her long, quiet sigh, then felt the feather brush of her lashes against his shoulder as her eyes shut.
    How long they lay still, he had no idea. Though the grandfather clock that stood in Shane’s sitting room struck the hour once, Vance paid no attention. She wasn’t trembling anymore, nor was her skin chilled. Her breathing was slow and even. The fingers that absently soothed at her temple were gentle, but his thoughts were not.
    No one, nothing, was ever going to put that look on Shane’s face again. He would see to it. He lay staring at the ceiling as he thought out the best way to deal with Anne Abbott. He’d let the money go, because that’s the way Shane wanted it. But he couldn’t resign himself to allowing her to deal with a constant emotional drain. Nothing had ever wrenched at him like the sight of her pale, shocked face or pain-filled eyes.
    He should have known that anyone with as open a heart as Shane’s could be hurt just as deeply as she could be made happy. And how, he wondered, could anyone who had dealt with that kind of pain since childhood be so generous and full of joy? The trial of a careless mother, the embarrassment and hurt of a broken engagement, the loss of the one constant family member she had known—none of it had broken her spirit or her simple kindness.
    But tonight she needed an arm around her. It would be his tonight—and whenever she needed him. Unconsciously he drew her closer as if to shield her from anything and everything that could hurt.
    “Vance.”
    He thought she spoke his name in sleep and brushed a light kiss over her hair.
    “Vance,” Shane said again, so that he looked down to see the glint of her eyes against the darkness. “Make love with me.”
    It was a quiet, simple request that asked for comfort rather than passion. The love he already thought infinite tripled. So did his concern that he might not be gentle enough. Very softly, cupping the shape of her face in one hand, he touched his lips to hers.
    Shane let herself float. She was too physically and emotionally drained to feel stinging desire, but he seemed to know what she asked for. Never had she felt such tenderness from him. His mouth was warm and softer than she had thought possible. Minute after minute, he kissed her—and only kissed her. His fingers stroked soothingly over her face, then moved to the base of her neck as if he knew the dull, throbbing ache that centered there. Lovingly, patiently, he drew the quiet response from her, never asking for more than she could give. She relaxed and let him guide her.
    With slow care, he roamed her face with kisses, touching his lips lightly to her closed lids as he shifted the gentle massage to her shoulders. There was a concentrated sweetness in his touch that was more kind than loverlike. When his mouth came back to hers, he used only the softest pressure, taking the kiss deep without fire or fury. With a sigh, she answered it, letting her needs pour out.
    Passively, she let him undress her. His hands were deft and slow and undemanding. With a sensitivity neither of them had been aware he possessed, he made no attempt to arouse. Even when they were naked, he did nothing more than kiss her and hold her close. She knew she was taking without giving any in return and, murmuring, reached for him.
    “Shh.” He kissed her palm before turning her gently onto her stomach. With his fingertips only at first, he stroked and soothed, running them down her back, over her shoulders. She hadn’t known love could be so compassionate or unselfish. With a sigh, she closed her eyes again and let her mind empty.
    He was drawing out the pain, bringing back the warmth. As she lay quietly, Shane felt herself settle and balance. There was no need to think, and no need to feel anything but Vance’s strong, sure hands. All of her trust was his. Knowing this, he took even more care not to abuse it.
    The old bed swayed slightly as he bent to kiss the back of her neck. Shane felt the first stir of desire. It was mild and wonderfully easy.