Summer in Eclipse Bay

surrounded with ghosts. Then he realized that he was looking at a lot of pale, gauzy draperies. The hangings spilled from a wrought-iron frame that arched overhead.
    The hidden bower of the Fairy Queen
, he thought.
    He let Octavia slide slowly down the length of his body until she was on her feet once more and then he peeled off the tee shirt. He'd been right about the lack of a bra. Her elegantly curved breasts fit perfectly into the palms of his hands. He moved his thumbs lightly across her taut nipples. She closed her eyes. Another little tremor went through her. He felt his own body shudder in response.
    He lowered his hands slowly down her sides, savoring the feel of warm, soft skin until he found the elasticized waistband of the long, flowing skirt. Sliding his palms beneath the band, he pushed the garment down over her hips.
    And discovered that a bra was not the only item of underwear that she had neglected that evening.
    He let the skirt drop to her ankles. Then he threaded his fingers through the triangle of curling hair. Damned if he would ever tell Eugene or any other man that Octavia was, indeed, a natural redhead.
    "You're not wearing any panties," he said against her bare shoulder.
    "I was in a hurry when I left the cottage tonight."
    "I may go crazy here."
    A smile played at the edges of her mouth. She started to unfasten his shirt. "Because I forgot to put on a pair of panties?"
    "Doesn't take much to drive me over the edge when I'm this close to you."
    "I'm glad."
    She separated the edges of his shirt and flattened her palms against his chest. "I'm not feeling wholly sane myself at the moment."
    He eased her backward, kissing her with every step, until she came up against the high bed. The ghostly bed curtains drifted gently behind her, guarding the interior of the secret bower.
    He did not take his mouth from hers when he reached behind her to pull the hazy fabric aside. Grasping the quilt, he pulled it straight down to the foot of the bed, exposing pristine white sheets.
    He picked her up, put her down on the pale bedding, and stepped back to finish undressing himself. The wispy bed hangings drifted closed. On the other side of the veil Octavia watched him through the misty material. She lay on her side, knees slightly bent, hips curved in graceful, seductive lines.
    He stood there for a few seconds, every muscle rigid with the effort it took to exert some control over the aching, raging need that was uncoiling rapidly throughout his body. It had never been like this with any other woman, he thought, baffled and bemused. He could not seem to wrap his mind around this sensation. It was not just physical. He was old enough and sufficiently experienced to take the physical effects in stride.
    There was something else going on here. He knew that in the depths of his soul. He'd been trying to ignore it, work around it, deny it, but there was no possibility of avoiding the reality. Octavia was different.
    He looked at her through the drifting veils that surrounded the bed, and for a moment he wondered if she really was a sorceress who had somehow managed to enchant him.
    He had no time to wonder about his predicament. The heaviness of his erection made it impossible to think clearly. He fought his way out of the rest of his clothing.
    When he pulled the bed hangings aside the second time, Octavia reached for him, drawing him down onto the snowy sheets. He put one hand on the sweet, round curve of her hip and she twisted urgently against him.
    "Nick."
    "Not so fast," he whispered.
    But she was moving, sliding, slipping along the length of him. He felt her mouth on his chest and then her tongue touched his belly.
    When her fingers curled around him and her lips moved lower, he thought he disintegrate.
    He rolled her onto her back, pinning her with one leg thrown across her thighs. "I meant what I said. We're going to take this nice and slow."
    "Are we?" Her voice was both mischievous and sensual. A woman who knows she's in control of the situation. She wriggled a little beneath his weight. "Do you really want to go slow?"
    "Most definitely," he said. "I want to go slow tonight. And what's more, I'm going to make sure that we do."
    She drew her fingertips down the length of his back. "Wanna bet?"
    "Oh, yeah."
    He bent his head and covered her mouth with his own. When she was absorbed in the kiss, giving herself completely over to it, working her sorcery, he reached out and snagged one of the trailing bed