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F ire burned within Juliana, Victor’s every touch sending sparks and igniting flames of passion. How many nights had she fantasized about being in Victor’s arms? Of him whispering words of love and desire? Too many, and yet, not enough.

And none of them compared to reality. For not the first time that evening she wondered if she were dreaming, but Victor’s kisses, his caresses, never felt as wonderful in her dreams or fantasies as they did in that moment.

And when he spoke what she presumed was Italian, her stomach did little flips.

When she pressed her hand against the hard planes of his chest, her fingers drifting through the dusting of hair, his heart pounded against her palm. His nipple peaked, growing hard, as she ran her finger around it, and he gave a soft moan.

“Kiss me, Victor.”

He obeyed, his lips driving her wild as he traveled up her throat to nibble her ear, before capturing her mouth. Her own heart pummeled her ribcage in punishing beats.

When he pulled away, she chased his lips.

“Are you certain this is what you want, Juliana?”

Mind reeling from the sensations flowing through her, she pulled herself together enough to answer, “More than anything.” Nothing in her life had ever been truer.

“May I remove this?” Victor tugged on the silky ribbon at the neck of her nightrail. Tenderness in his eyes stoked the ever-growing fire in her.

Unable to form the simple word, she nodded.

He smiled, and—his eyes never leaving hers—he made quick work of the three ties, then pulled the gown from her shoulders.

He peppered kisses across her shoulders, and she inhaled his scent—warm cardamom and woodsy sandalwood, with the faintest touch of turpentine.

As he continued to tug her gown down her body, his lips traced every inch of newly exposed skin.

She slipped her arms from the sleeves, allowing him to pull the garment down and reveal her breasts.

Kneeling beside her on the bed, he sat back on his heels and stared down at her. “Even more beautiful than I imagined.”

At the sight of him, something tender and fierce unfurled inside of her, as though her heart recognized its home.

His long hair flowing free curtained his face, the defined muscles of his shoulders and arms bunching with restrained strength.

For an artist, he was no stranger to taking care of his body.

Tentatively, she stretched her hand up and ran her fingers over the ripple of muscles on his abdomen to where a fine line of dark blond hair trailed from his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers.

Her gaze drifted lower, where the taut fabric of his trousers left little to the imagination. When she dropped her hand to touch him, his eyelids shuttered, and he sucked in a harsh breath.

Emboldened by his response, she rubbed him harder.

He pressed his hand against hers, halting her ministrations. “You keep that up, and I’ll spend in my trousers.” Raspy and raw, his voice strained with effort as he spoke. “And unless you stop me, I really want to be inside you.”

Her own voice husky with desire, she said, “I don’t want to stop you.”

“Bene—good.” He leaned down, his hand rising to cup her face. His thumb skimmed her cheek as he pressed his lips to hers in an endless kiss. Soft, slow, and deep, each caress of his mouth on hers melted into the next, the gentle scrape of stubble a contrast to the silken glide of his lips.

With the same careful attention, he cupped her breast and teased her nipple to a hard peak with his thumb much as she had done to him—the sensation glorious.

Yet, when he dipped his head to her breast, it paled in comparison, and she arched off the bed, her fingers sliding hungrily through his hair. “Oh!”

He continued to suckle, and her mind blanked. She was only feeling, the heavy aching need building low in her abdomen ever growing and insistent.

“Lift your hips for me, cara mia.” His soft command brought her temporarily back to Earth.

When she obeyed, he slipped the nightrail off her completely and tossed it aside.

His gaze drifted over her—slow and deliberate—like a tender caress. “After we’re married, I want to paint you just like this.”

Heat scorched her cheeks and bloomed on the underside of her skin, setting her ablaze.

He smiled, slow and easy, and the look eased her embarrassment. “For my eyes only, of course.”

A thrill of naughtiness tripped up her spine, and she gave a languorous stretch, the rustle of sheets accenting the silence that enveloped them like a cocoon.

His smile widened. “You, my dear Juliana, are a temptress.”

Like a powerful cat, he reclined beside her and resumed his kisses.

“Won’t you remove your trousers?” Throat so parched, her voice cracked like dry paper.

“My trousers are the one thing keeping me from ravishing you like a man possessed, and I want you to find your pleasure first.”

When he lowered his hand to tease her between her legs, she cried out and clung to his shoulders with a punishing grip. “Oh!” The aching need grew almost unbearable, and she arched into his touch.

“Oh, Juliana,” he whispered, his voice thick with wonder.

Each kiss became more passionate, and as their tongues tangled in a frenetic dance, he inserted one finger while, with his thumb, he rubbed little circles over the sensitive spot between her legs, driving her wild.

Movement of his fingers matched that of his tongue—swirling, probing, driving her to the brink of madness.

Pressure built within her as he continued his sweet torture, and she drew closer to the precipice of pleasure. When he broke their kiss and instead suckled at her breast once more, her mind shattered into a million glorious little sparks of light, and she fell into a sublime oblivion.

“Oh, God! Victor!”

He quickly silenced her cries of ecstasy with a kiss until the waves of her release eased. Never before had she experienced such a sense of abandon and decadent rapture.

Boneless with bliss, her limbs melted onto the mattress, as though she had become only sensation and breath.

Satisfaction flowed through her like warm honey.

When his kisses ended with a quick peck on her nose, she gazed at him with wonder.

“You really love me.” All doubt dissipated when she saw the evidence in his eyes.

Tenderness in his gaze mixed with passion as the circle of blue expanded, leaving only a small rim around the black of his pupil. “I do. And because I do, I really should leave now and save the rest for our wedding night.”

After another deep kiss, Victor started to rise from the bed, but Juliana grabbed his arm. “I don’t want to wait. I want to assure you that I will marry you.”

He turned back toward her. “I trust you, Juliana. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Concern crinkled the corners of his eyes, and she loved him all the more for it. But it was more than wanting to prove her commitment, she truly wanted to make love with him. “And I trust you. Please, don’t stop. I want you, Victor.”

Long moments stretched between them as he gazed down at her, then with a quick nod, he rose from the bed and removed his trousers.

Goodness! Her breath caught and heat flared in her cheeks. None of her fantasies had prepared her for the reality of him.

He gave her a sly grin. “If you’re used to horses, I’m not nearly as impressive.”

She laughed, the sound echoing through the room, and he climbed up next to her and placed an index finger on her lips.

“Shush. Someone will hear us.” His grin widened. “But I hope you weren’t laughing at me.”

“Never. You are magnificent.” She pulled him down for a lingering kiss. “Now, where were we?”

Where, indeed? When Victor cradled and tilted Juliana’s head to the perfect angle for the kiss, his body pulsed with energy.

The way she responded to him, her trust, her belief in him, had each nerve ending sizzling with life.

Every point of contact between them created a thrum of awareness.

Sweet and slightly spicy, the warm scent of her skin wrapped around him like a promise.

He could so easily get caught up in his own desires.

Yet he paused, thinking of her. “I understand there will be some initial pain, but only the first time, and I will do my best to be gentle and make it enjoyable for you.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair. “I trust you.”

Her skin felt like silk as he traced his hands over the expanse of her abdomen and cupped her breast. Her nails raked against his scalp, the sensation generating gooseflesh along his arms.

“Open for me, tesoro mio.” The words fitting, she was his treasure more precious than gold.

He nudged her legs apart, and she complied, instinctively bending them at the knees.

As he positioned himself at her entrance, he whispered, “Ti adoro. I adore you, Juliana. Only you. Never doubt it.” With excruciating slowness, he pushed forward as her body yielded to his.

God, she welcomed him so exquisitely, every inch of her drawing him in, testing his control to its limits.

But he needed to go slow, to be careful for her.

As he met resistance, he gritted his teeth and prepared for the moment he dreaded. His voice a gravelly rasp of need, he said, “Wrap your legs around me, amore mio.”

When she did, and he pressed forward, she sucked in a breath, the moment he breached her maidenhead clear from the wince of pain on her face.

He stilled. His arms shook, and his heart hammered in his chest as need built to a crescendo.

Every muscle in his body screamed for release, but he held still, anchored by the sight of her beneath him.

It broke his heart to know he’d hurt her.

“Is the pain—very bad?” He choked on the question, not sure he wanted the answer.

“Not t-terribly bad.” But the crack in her voice belied her words.

“I won’t move until you tell me.” God knows how he would manage, but he would. For her.

Her eyes shimmered, and a tear pooled in the corners.

“Oh, God. It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’m so sorry, Juliana.”

She shook her head. “It’s not pain—it’s that I love you so much my heart can’t contain it.”

And as he gazed down at her, he saw the love in her eyes.

He heard it in her words. Felt it as she stilled his shaking arms with her soft touch.

Tasted it in the sweetness of her kisses.

Even the air between them—thick with heat and longing—was scented with her desire. Every sense evidenced her love for him.

She loved him ! Not his name or future, but the man he tried so hard to be. Who he uniquely was.

The realization overwhelmed him.

She was his, and he was hers. They were one. Not only in that precious, glorious moment, but for the rest of their lives.

He would wait forever if he had to; Juliana was worth it.

Luckily for him, forever wasn’t necessary.

“I’m better now if you want to move.”

Thank God.

Moving slowly at first, his strokes tentative, he studied her face and searched for any sign of discomfort, grateful when he found none.

After a few minutes, he picked up his pace, and soon she moved with him in a steady rhythm.

Her eyes drew dusky, and a soft moan escaped her parted lips, rosy and swollen from their kisses. She stroked his shoulders, the tender slide of her fingers against his skin setting him aflame.

He braced himself on one forearm and, with his other hand, reached between them to touch the swollen nub between her legs.

Her hips bucked against him, and she gave another moan. “Oh, God. Yes.”

Oh, how he wanted to make her come again. “That’s it, cuore mio. Don’t think. Just feel.” His heart nearly burst with love for her. His beautiful Juliana. He would spend the rest of his days adoring her.

He increased his pace, and she met him thrust for thrust.

Her legs began trembling, then she fell apart in his arms. Her muscles clenching around him felt incredible. Not just the physical sensation, but the joy flowing through him for how much Juliana loved him.

Her expression softened, lips parted and brows drawn tight, every line of her face etched with feeling as she cried out in ecstasy; he looked forward to witnessing it for years to come.

“I love you, Victor.” Imbued with so much love, her words seemed almost unnecessary.

Yet, they pushed him over the edge he’d been teetering on, and he kissed her long and hard to stifle his own shouts of passion as he spilled into her.

Whatever walls he’d once held between them crumbled—nothing remained he hadn’t given her.

Deep, soul-reaching satisfaction settled inside him as he collapsed on top of her. Perhaps a little late, he answered back, “I love you, too.”

Outside, the distant hoot of an owl broke the silence, reminding him time still moved even though everything inside the room had shifted.

Not wishing to crush her, he slid off her. Pulling her to his side, he nuzzled against her neck and nibbled on the shell of her ear. Her skin still glowed with the heat of their joining, her pulse a flutter beneath his lips.

“Mmm,” she murmured dreamily.

“In three days, you will be mine forever,” he whispered.

“Two days; it’s already Saturday.”

“Even better.” He fought the sleep threatening to take him under. It had been an eventful evening. The warmth of Juliana’s body curled next to his only furthered his wish to drift off.

A knock, sharp and insistent, startled him. How long had he drifted off? He bolted upright. “Someone’s at your door, Juliana!”