From the Heart

risking her own life, she realized, but his as well. “You’re right,” she murmured. “I’m sorry.” Abruptly she whirled around. “I hate this! I hate all of it.”
    “I told Betsy you didn’t want to be disturbed,” he answered calmly. “She’s got it into her head that you’ve caught a touch of David’s flu. We’ll let her go on thinking it. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
    “Don’t go,” she said quickly as he reached for the doorknob.
    “I’ll just be down in the library. You need to rest, Jess, you’re worn out.”
    “I need you,” she corrected and walked to him. “Make love to me, Slade . . . as if we were just a man and a woman who wanted to be together.” Lifting her arms, she circled his neck. “Can’t we believe that it’s true for just a few hours? Let’s give each other the rest of the morning.”
    He lifted the back of his hand to her cheek in a gesture they both found uncharacteristic. Slade wondered if she knew that his need was as great as hers—to touch, to lose himself inlovemaking. So close, he thought as he ran his knuckles over the line of her cheekbone. He’d come so close to losing her.
    “Your eyes are shadowed.” His voice was rough with emotion. “You should rest.” But his lips were already lowering to seek hers.
    The brush of mouth on mouth—gentle, caring, comforting. Jessica melted against him, overpowered by the tenderness she’d drawn out of him. His hand was still on her face, gliding over her features as if to memorize them. On a sigh, her lips parted, softening under his until he thought he would sink into them.
    They had stood there only the night before, locked in an embrace that had been turbulent with passion, almost brutal with desire. The soothing quality of his kiss was no less arousing.
    The pulse at the base of her throat beat thickly as Slade’s fingertip slid down to it. She needed, he needed. Thinking only of this, he brought his hand to the loose knot of the towel to draw the material from her before he carried her to bed.
    Jessica saw his eyes, dark and intense, sweep over her as she began to unbutton his shirt. Then her fingers were trapped between their bodies, his mouth fixed on hers again. The night before, he’d made her soar; now he made her float. Soft kisses, soft words, both unexpected, rained over her. His fingers combed through her damp hair, spreading it out on the pillow, lingering in its silk as if he would touch each individual strand.
    Her hands were free again and, trembling, they dealt with the last buttons on his shirt. She felt a quiver race after her exploring hands, heard his incoherent murmur as she worked the rest of his clothes from him. Flesh to heated flesh, they began the journey. Rain began to patter against the windows.
    He’d never been a gentle lover—intense, yes, passionate, yes, but never gentle. She unlocked something in him, something giving and tender. No less desperately than the night before, he wanted her, but with the hunger came the sweet calming breath of love. The peaceful emotion guided them both to meet the unspoken needs of the other. Touch me here. Let me taste. Look at me. There was no need for words when hearts and minds were attuned.
    He wandered over the body he already knew so well. In the gray, gloomy light he worshiped her with hands, lips, and eyes. Naked, heavy eyed, skin flushed with desire, Jessica lay quietly as he took his gaze over her with the slow intensity she recognized. She was a willing prisoner in the thick, humming world conceived by pleasure and sensation. The rain grew loud, the room dimmer.
    Lifting a hand to either side of his face, she drew him back to her. With her tongue, she slowly traced the shape of his mouth, then probed inside to drink up all the tastes of him. Flavors musky and sharp seeped into her, deep into her, until she hungered for more. Desire rose to the next plane.
    Not so gentle now, nor so calmly, they sought each other. Kisses became possessive, caresses urgent. Under the sound of the rain she heard his breath shudder. Under the pressure of her hands, she felt his muscles tighten. The liquefying pleasure that had ruled her became a hot, torrid need, catapulting her beyond the gray, insular room into a place of white light and golden fire.
    Searing, searching, seducing, his mouth veered down her, over her, until her skin was molten. With a strength only recently discovered, she rolled on top of him to complete a crazed journey