Page 46 of Highland Fire

When he laid the towel aside she picked it up and, casually half turning away from him, proceeded to dry herself.

There was no defiance in the gesture. There was reserve, but it was natural, not meant to provoke him.

Knowing all this, Rand judiciously gave way and went to inspect the candles.

They were drowning in their own wax. Having substituted fresh ones in their places, he came back to the bed and sat down beside her. Her back was to him.

Not wanting to shame her, at the same time refusing to give up the ground he had won, he carefully slid one hand into the mass of her hair, lifting it, brushing it forward to expose her naked back.

When he began to trace each vertebra with the backs of his fingers, her spine went rigid, but that was no more than he’d expected.

He gave her a moment or two to become accustomed to his touch, then he went further, pressing his open mouth to the nape of her neck, slipping his arms around her waist, pulling her to him.

There was a moment when he thought she was going to resist him.

“Rand,” she said, shaking her head, then relaxed against him.

She was accepting him. The thought blazed through him, igniting his blood, burning away the restraints he had imposed on himself.

She was accepting him. Resting his forehead against her back, he breathed deeply as he took a moment to gather his control.

He was so hot and hard, he longed to bury himself deep inside her and take his release.

Yet he wanted more than that. This time, he would teach her that desire was a two-edged sword, that she was no more immune than he to the sexual magnetism which had attracted them.

“You’re trembling,” he told her, “and there’s no need. This time, I won’t hurt you.”

He wanted to tell her that the last thing he had wanted was to hurt her, that he wasn’t an unfeeling brute ruled by lust. He had been driven to take her, not for pleasure, though she had given him the sweetest pleasure he had ever known, but because in the taking of her a bond would be established which she could not easily shrug off.

And that had been so. The weight of her body was slumped against him, boneless, yielding, nestling trustingly in the shield of his powerful arms.

He moved slightly, bringing his hands up to cradle her breasts. She shifted but froze when her movement merely thrust herself more deeply into his cupped palms. With exquisite care, he brushed thumb and forefinger against her nipples, teasing them, plucking them into hardened peaks.

She caught her breath and half turned, arching her neck against his shoulder.

With a harsh sound, he took her mouth, penetrating her with his tongue as he so ardently wished to penetrate her with his sex.

She made no move to stop him when he parted her legs.

He explored the silky thatch at the juncture of her thighs, then one finger pushed into the melting center of her femininity.

She made a small sound, a quick sob of arousal, and the banked fires in him flamed to a white-hot inferno.

There was no subtlety now when he pushed her back into the covers.

In one quick movement, he dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

Kneeling over her, braced on his hands, he pressed open-mouthed kisses from her throat to her toes, lingering at her breasts, her belly, and the dark screen at her loins.

He knew when her fingers buried themselves in his hair, flexing and unflexing convulsively, that she would yield whatever he demanded of her.

He kissed her knees and parted them, savoring her surprised, love-dazed expression.

Her body was open to him, unresisting to each passionate caress.

When her head began to thrash back and forth on the pillow, he came down on her.

Overwhelming her with his virility, he pressed into her, then stilled, forcing the surge of unbridled lust to recede.

It was then that she took the initiative away from him.

Whimpering, she arched beneath him, instinctively fusing their bodies with a deeper, more complete penetration.

As he sank into her, he sucked air into his lungs.

She cried out. Like lightning in an electric storm, passion leapt between them.

His mouth fastened avidly on hers. She twined her arms around his neck.

In a fever of need, they came together, straining violently for release, till the stunning, mindless climax engulfed them both, and they lay shuddering in each other’s arms.

They remained so, silent and spent, for a long while after, his weight still pressing her into the soft feather mattress. Finally, raising his head, forcing himself to breathe normally, he waited until her somber gray eyes lifted to meet the inflexible blue in his.

“Now everything is different between us,” he told her, not harshly, not carelessly, but with an uncharacteristic gravity which she could not ignore.

“Don’t you think I know it?” She sounded a bit like a fractious child.

It was done, but she wasn’t going to let him have everything his own way. Now why did that make him smile?

Pulling her to his side, he turned her into his arms. He ran his hands possessively down her spine, over her thighs, and draped one smooth leg over his flanks. Her skin was cool. Reaching down, he pulled up the bedclothes. Her head was nestled under his chin.

“ Mo gaol orist . What time is it?” she asked drowsily.

He glanced at the clock. “Don’t worry,” he said, “you still have an hour or two to make up your beauty sleep.” With one hand, he tipped up her chin and kissed her softly. “Little hypocrite,” he said, teasing her, “you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

“There wouldn’t be much point in denying it, would there?”

The pout in her voice brought the smile flashing to his lips. “There would not be any point in denying it,” he corrected, and laughter sparkled in his eyes.

She slapped him, not very forcefully, but not quite playfully either. “There are more important things between a man and woman than this,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the unkempt bed.

“Name me one,” he retorted. He was nuzzling her ear, savoring this new docility that allowed him to touch her intimately and without demur.

Testing her, he pressed light kisses to her lips, her throat, and finally to the soft swelling flesh of her breasts.

When she made no move to parry this tender assault on her person, but rather adjusted herself in obedience to his unspoken demands, the last of his regrets quietly slipped away.

Caitlin was frowning in concentration. “Friendship is more important…and…and affection, don’t you think?

” She didn’t want to be completely transparent with him.

The wonder of what they had just shared was so awesome, she was still reeling from the effects of it.

She needed time to get her bearings, time to sift through what she was feeling so that she could discover why such pleasure would make her want to bawl her eyes out.

He pulled away slightly to get a better look at her. The smile in his eyes had cooled. “And what you shared with David compares to this?” His hand calmly took possession of one breast, molding it with gentle, persuasive pressure.

David? Why was he mentioning David at a time like this? Her mind cast about frantically, trying to recall what she had shared with David. “We were friends…confidantes. Our minds were in tune. I don’t know how else to explain it. ‘Soul mates’ was how David used to describe it.”

The arms holding her went rigid, and his nostrils flared. “God forbid that I should begrudge David your mind.” A new violence had crept into his voice. “I’ll not trespass on holy ground,” he went on, mystifying her, “but I’ll not be denied my due either. It’s too late for that.”

“Rand,” she murmured weakly when he pressed into her again. “Is this all you can think about?”

He braced himself on his arms, levering himself higher, holding himself above her.

“This,” he said, and sheathed himself inside her, “is the only thing that matters to a male. I don’t envy what you had with David.

If you must know, I feel sorry for him, poor devil!

Soul mates! As though any man worth his salt would be satisfied with that!

“He may have been grateful for the crumbs from your table, but don’t expect the same forbearance from me. You may keep your precious mind. I wouldn’t know what to do with it if you gave it to me on a silver platter. I’m your husband. I won’t be turned away from this.”

His kiss was so violent, she thought her neck would snap.

An instant later, there was the taste of blood in her mouth.

Her hands splayed out against the corded muscles of his arms, trying to gentle him.

And then gentleness became the last thing she wanted as he plunged her into an unfamiliar world that was primitive and unashamedly wanton, where nothing existed but the driving demand of their bodies to blend into one.