Time and Again

reason could set in, he slid a hand over the warm tangle of sheets and covered hers. He knew he would never be able to describe the sensation mat rippled through him as her fingers curled against his.
    He was heavy. She didn't care. It seemed perfectly feasible that she could spend the rest of her life lying just so, listening to his breathing and to the quiet sound of snow melting from the eaves in the sun.
    So this was what it was to love, she mused. She hadn't known she'd waited all her life to feel like this. It had always seemed possible to her to live her life alone, independent, content with the freedom to do as she pleased when she pleased.
    The idea of sharing a bed with a man you cared for, respected, understood, had seemed practical and certainly human enough. But the idea of sharing a life-or needing to share it because you couldn't imagine living without one person-had always struck her as romantic nonsense.
    No more.
    And he was such a beautiful man. Strong and smart Stubborn and opinionated. Exactly, she realized, the kind of man she needed. Without any one of those qualities, her personality would have driven her to run right over him, making both of them miserable. Because he had them, she would run into him often, bruising them both. And she'd be wildly happy.
    Smiling, she caught herself stroking his hair. After letting out a careful breath, she made herself stop.
    What did a woman like her do with these tender feelings? She understood passion. At least she understood it now. But what about this soft, yielding sensation, this dependence, this need to nurture and cherish and simply love? How would a man like Jacob Hornblower react to this sudden gush of emotion?
    He'd sneer at her. Closing her eyes, she admitted that she would have sneered herself only hours before.
    But everything had changed. For her, Sunny reminded herself. If she was honest she would accept the fact that she'd started falling the moment she'd faced him, ready to fight, in this very same room.
    But Jacob- She herself had called him a tough nut. Cracking him, discovering whether there was indeed a soft center capable of gentler emotions, would be a difficult task. It would take effort, she thought. That was no problem. It would take patience. That was.
    Oblivious of where her thoughts were headed, he turned his head enough to brush a kiss to the curve of her breast.
    "Your taste," he murmured.
    "Hmm?"
    "It keeps me hungry." He scraped his teeth along her skin, then smiled when he felt her heart skip a beat.
    "I like you here best." He propped himself up to study her face lazily. "Naked and in bed."
    "A typical male attitude." Deliberately she danced her fingers down his hip and watched his eyes darken.
    "But then, I think I prefer you in the same state."
    "It's convenient that we finally agree about something." He shifted so that he could trace her lips with the tip of his tongue. "I like your mouth, Sunbeam. It's stubborn and sexy."
    "I could say the same about yours."
    "We agree again."
    "A new record." She caught his lower lip between her teeth. "We could push our luck. What else do you like?"
    "Your-" His smile spread slowly, "-energy."
    "Another winner."
    With a laugh, he deepened the kiss. She was just as sweet, and just as potent, as the first time. "Your body," he decided. "I definitely like your body."
    She sighed into his mouth. "We're on a roll, J.T. Don't stop now."
    He shifted his attention to her earlobe. "This is a nice spot," he murmured, nuzzling until they were both dizzy. "But I suppose, under the circumstances, I can confess that I find your mind- intriguing."
    "Intriguing," she repeated, as shudder after delicious shudder passed through her. "An interesting choice of words."
    "It seemed more apt than infuriating at the moment. And I-" His words trailed off when he spotted a line of faint bruises on her shoulder. He placed the tips of his fingers on them experimentally. "I've marked your skin," he said, surprised and a bit appalled. If he had bruised her during a fight, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. But in bed, while loving- that was a different matter. "I'm sorry."
    She twisted her head to glance at them. She certainly hadn't felt them. "Are you?" He looked back to see her lips curved in what he considered a typically female smile. "No, I suppose I'm not."
    "Under the circumstances," she supplied.
    "Right." He started to speak again, to make some joke, but found himself suddenly and totally at a