He was the epitome of masculine beauty, his arms, shoulders and chest burnished by the sun to a rich umber, every inch of him sculpted by hard physical labor. Until now, Bethany hadn't believed there was a man alive as muscular as her brothers. Ryan definitely was. His slightest movement set off a chain reaction of ripples. She could have spent hours just admiring the view.

He tossed the shirt on the floor, his grin growing broader as he braced his hands on the mattress on either side of her and moved so his face was above hers again. His gaze twinkling, he glanced at her breasts. "If ever there was a doubt in my mind, I can now say with absolute certainty that I vastly prefer small breasts," he whispered. "You are so beautiful, Bethany. I'm almost afraid to believe you're really here with me."

"Oh, Ryan, I feel the same way, like I'm having a wonderful dream."

He lowered himself beside her, bracing his weight on one arm. He curled a large palm over her ribs and bent to nibble at her lips. While he kissed her deeply, he skimmed his hand down, tracing the curves and hollows of her body, his fingertips setting her skin afire.

She was lost to sensation again, the sound of every breath she drew a muffled rush against her eardrums. Her belly knotted with yearning, the need spiraling down to center low in her belly, where it seemed to radiate heat clear through her. Building .. . building until something inside of her ached and quivered with every pass of his fingertips.

"Ryan?"

"I'm here," he assured her huskily.

His gaze resting on her face, he continued to caress her until she stretched and struggled to undulate her hips. Then he slid a hand down to her pelvis, where he pressed firmly with his palm and began a slow, circular rub that ignited her. She hiked her hips as best she could without the help of her legs, rising mindlessly against the press of his hand in a rhythm as old as man and womankind. Her breath quickened even more. Her heartbeat became a deafening thrum that made his whispery reassurances seem to come from a great distance. Not that she needed reassurance now. Ryan.

He moved his hand from her belly to the apex of her thighs. "Can you feel that, sweetheart?"

Bethany guessed that he was exploring the outer edges of her opening, which she'd already known was numb. The wonderful, dizzying heat of desire fell away, and her stomach knotted with anxiety. She stiffened. "I can't feel anything there, Ryan."

"Nothing?" he asked, his voice ringing with a disappointment so keen that it cut through her like a knife. "No, nothing, I'm afraid." Her lungs suddenly felt as if they were being compressed by a leaden weight. "Up higher. I have some sensation there."

He touched her clitoris. As gentle as he was, Bethany jerked, startled by how supersensitive that place was. He rubbed the flange of flesh lightly with his thumb, and it felt as if her nerve endings were being abraded with sandpaper. She grabbed for his wrist.

"Oh, Ryan, don't. That sort of-hurts." He lightened his touch, and when she still didn't release his wrist, he cursed under his breath. "Damn my rough hands. That's the problem."

His hands had felt marvelous on her skin. Hard and sand-papery with calluses, yes, but wonderfully warm and strong. She didn't think they were the problem. It felt more like her nerve endings down there had been damaged. They were so sensitive that even his lightest, most careful ministrations were uncomfortable. She didn't like the feeling but clenched her teeth, determined to make this work. Seconds later, she was hating her traitorous body and wishing she could scream. Instead she willed herself to respond normally to him.

"Easy ...," he whispered, and bent his head back down to tease her nipple while his fingertips toyed lightly below. "Just relax, sweetheart. You're so tense. When a woman's tense, this never works. You need to forget everything and just focus on the feelings and on me."

It was impossible for her to relax. The long awaited moment had arrived, and there was too much at stake. It seemed to her that everything was riding on her ability to enjoy this. Her whole future with this man, whom she had come to love so very much. If she failed him now-if she could feel nothing-she was afraid he might change his mind about marrying her. And who would blame him? No man wanted to spend his life with half a woman.

The next pass of his fingertips brought her shoulders off the mattress. She didn't experience pain, exactly, but it was close enough. "Stop, Ryan. Please. That doesn't feel right. I think the nerves there are damaged or something." She felt his hesitation and rushed to add, "Maybe I have feeling farther up inside of me. Let's just-you know-go ahead and see how it feels."

He resumed kissing her breasts. Bethany knew he was trying to arouse her again, but she was so upset, she couldn't get there again, no matter how desperately she tried.

She felt him tug off his pants and heard his boots hit the floor. The next instant, he rose over her, a dark blur of bronze and ebony. There was an odd crinkling sound, as if he were tearing open foil. Then she felt his hands grasping her hips, and she slid down the mattress slightly.

"I'll try not to hurt you, Bethany mine. Just tell me if you feel any pain, and I'll stop." She felt the coarse hair on his leg brush against her inner left thigh, and he fleetingly touched her clitoris again, which was now so tender she gasped.

She braced herself, knowing that he was about to push in. Please, God, let me feel it when he enters me. Please, please, please ... In that moment, she could think of nothing she'd ever wanted more. To feel, simply to feel If God would grant her only that, she promised herself she'd never ask Him for anything else. For her, that would be everything.

She got an odd feeling-like pressure building way low inside of her. She blinked and brought Ryan's dark face back into focus. His beautiful steely-blue eyes were filled with question.

"Sweetheart, is it hurting?"

Bethany knew then. It was like being slugged right in the center of her chest, a staggering blow that emptied her lungs and made her want to weep.

He was inside her-and she felt nothing but an odd sense of fullness.

Absolutely nothing.

Chapter Fifteen.

Ryan held Bethany in his arms until she fell asleep, and then he sneaked from bed to go walking on the lakeshore, his heart breaking a little with every step he took. Please, God. The words became a litany, the same words over and over and over. She was so dear, and, oh, how she shined. She was like gentle spring sunshine, his Bethany. Or like a fairy glow of moonlight on water, he thought as he gazed across the lake.

Her bright smile. The sparkle in her eyes. She had brought light into his life, making everything seem golden.

"Please, God," he whispered as he reached his thinking spot on the knoll.

He sat beneath the overhanging pine boughs, finding no comfort tonight in the shadows that embraced him. When he gazed at the moon-silvered mountain peaks that loomed like specters over the forests that grew on the opposite lakeshore, all he could think about was Bethany. She'd been as eager for their lovemaking as he had been, responding so readily to every kiss and touch of his hands. She'd been shy at first, but she'd quickly set those feelings aside, giving herself to him so freely and completely, her trust in him glowing in her eyes. Then he had left her hanging.

He braced an elbow on his knee and cupped a hand over his face. He went to church almost every Sunday, and he considered himself to be a decent, God-fearing man, if not a pious and prayerful one. Countless times, he'd gone through the motions of prayer-kneeling, folding his hands, and bowing his head. But he realized now that all those times, he'd never really gone to his knees.

He was on his knees now. He loved that girl so very much. He would have done anything to make her happy. But for all of that, he couldn't give her the one simple thing she needed most, satisfaction in his arms.

Making love to her had been the most wonderful, fulfilling experience he'd ever had, making him feel complete in a way he couldn't begin to express. He'd taken so much, so very much, and in return, he'd been able to give her nothing. Nothing.

He'd felt the tension in her body afterward-the kind of tension that told a man he'd failed to bring a woman to completion. If I can't feel anything, I think I'll die. Oh, she'd tried to hide her disappointment, hugging him and burrowing her cheek against his shoulder, saying how lovely it had been. But he'd known, and he'd wanted to weep.

Now he was alone. If he cried, that would be his secret.

The tears felt like acid in his eyes. A sob built pressure in his chest until he couldn't breathe. That look in her eyes- oh, God-he doubted he'd ever forget it. Shock, disappointment, and then a terrible despair he hadn't been able to dispel.

His shoulders jerked, and the next instant, he was sobbing. Please, God. There in the darkness, Ryan cried like a child for the girl he'd left sleeping in his bed, and he prayed for a miracle, knowing in his heart that if God didn't make this right somehow, he might very well lose her.

The following morning Bethany lectured herself in the bathroom mirror. Time to count her blessings, and they were many. She was in love with the most fantastic man on earth, and he loved her back. That was an incredible blessing. And making love with him last night had been the most beauti ful, indescribable experience of her whole life, all of it perfect and wonderful, right up until the last.

What more did she want? She'd enjoyed all of the touching and kissing. That was so much more than she had ever hoped to have. She would be foolish to let the wonder of that be tarnished by her inability to feel the last part.

No way. She would wear a bright smile, and she'd be grateful that God had chosen to give her this much. It was enough. It was. If she could grow old in Ryan's arms, she would count herself the luckiest woman alive, and she would not let herself wish for more or feel sorry for herself because there wasn't more.

When she reached the kitchen, he was at the table, nursing a mug of coffee. He pushed another mug toward her and smiled, his eyes lackluster as his gaze moved slowly over her. "Good morning, sunshine."

"Good morning!" she said brightly, which was totally uncharacteristic of her. She glanced out the window. "And it is a gorgeous one. Spring may come late in this country, but there's nothing more wonderful once it arrives."

Ryan rubbed his forehead. "Sweetheart, you don't have to do this."

Bethany's face felt so stiff that her smile hurt. "Do what?"

He kept his gaze fixed on his coffee. "Pretend everything's wonderful. I know you're upset-that it wasn't good for you last night, and I'm sorry it wasn't. We can work on it-make it better." He shrugged and flicked her a sad, hangdog look. "I'm sorry I didn't make it happen for you."

She felt as if two fists were twisting her heart in half, and an awful, frightened feeling tied her stomach into knots. Ryan might settle for less than perfect for himself, but it would eat at him like a cancer if he thought it was less than perfect for her.

Bethany didn't generally lie, and she found it particularly distasteful to think about lying to Ryan. But in this particu-lar instance, she wondered if being completely honest wouldn't do more harm than good. Maybe she was lacking in practical experience, but she wasn't naive. Caring individuals, be they male or female, needed to know that their lovers truly enjoyed being intimate with them. Bethany couldn't imagine how awful she might be feeling right now if the tables had been turned-if it had been Ryan who hadn't found satisfaction in her arms last night instead of the other way around.

The twisting pain in her chest grew more acute, making it difficult for her to breathe. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him. Not now. Not after being with him. Before, as painful as it might have been, she could have turned away for his sake. But now she knew how much she'd be missing. So she hadn't achieved a climax. The rest had been so wonderful-so absolutely perfect. She couldn't go back to the empty existence she'd had before-to a life without Ryan. Oh, God, she just couldn't.

Not allowing herself to think about the right and wrong of it, Bethany made a snap decision. She'd lie. Before she was with him that way a second time, she'd watch When Harry Met Sally again and practice faking an orgasm until she could do it so convincingly that Ryan would never guess it was an act. He'd never look at her like this again, with his heart aching in his eyes. Never. She'd be the best lover he'd ever had, damn it. The very best. Last night, she'd been so caught up in her own pleasure, so overwhelmed by all the incredible sensations she'd never hoped to feel, that she'd given little thought to the things she might do to give him pleasure.

No more. She was no expert on sex, but what she didn't know, she could find out, even if it meant going to a sexual therapist and getting some how-to literature. She'd learn what turned men on, all the little tricks that drove them crazy in bed. No holds barred. Anything. She'd do anything to keep from losing him.

"Ryan, how can you say it wasn't good for me? That simply isn't so. It was wonderful for me."

He slumped back in his chair and met her gaze. "Sweetheart, let's not go there. All right? Honesty is our ace in the hole. Talking about it openly and working together to find a solution is our only hope. We'll find a way. I promise you. Somehow. It just may take some time." He winked and flashed her a grin that lacked its usual brilliance. "You know what they say. Practice makes perfect."

Bethany felt bile rise up her throat. As long as he felt guilty because she wasn't enjoying it at the end, it would spoil it for him. All along, her greatest fear had been that she wouldn't be able to give him pleasure. Now she knew she could. That, in and of itself, was a miracle. How it had been for her simply didn't matter, not in the overall scheme of things.

"Ryan, look at me." When he met her gaze again, she said, "It was fantastic for me, the most wondrous experience of my life." That much wasn't a lie. "It's true that I didn't feel anything at first. But I did later." She thought fast. "When you moved a little deeper, I felt you. What an incredible feeling it was."

Hope came into his eyes. "You did?"

"Oh, yes." She hugged her waist, praying he wouldn't notice how her hands were shaking. "I love you so much, Ryan. Being with you that way, it was so beautiful. And I'm so excited because I felt something, there at the end. I'm sure if we'd just kept going a few minutes more, it would have been fabulous."

"Deeper," he repeated. "You felt it when I went deeper? Bethany, that's wonderful." He sat straighter and shifted to face her. "How did it feel?" Oh, God. She had no idea what a woman felt when a man entered her. She thought of the sensations when he'd kissed her breasts and grabbed for words. "An electrical, tingling feeling." She pressed a palm to her stomach. "Way deep, right here. It's hard to describe."

He laughed softly, and a joyous look came into his eyes. "That'll do." He came off his chair and went down on one knee beside her. After wrapping her in his arms, he buried his face against her hair and held her tightly for a moment. "That'll do, sweetheart," he said huskily. "I can work with that, and we'll get there."

Bethany clung to him and vowed that they would "get there" far sooner than he dreamed. "I love you, Ryan. Please, be happy. I am. So very happy."

Bethany propped her arms on her desk, ignoring the muted click and hum of the computer hard drive perched beside her. To heck with filling out purchase orders. She had more important fish to fry, namely learning all she could about giving a man great sex. There was no listing for a therapist in the yellow pages. Bethany ran her finger down the S's, praying to find SEX in all caps. She needed an expert, someone she could pump for information who wouldn't betray her confidence.

"Morning, sis."

Bethany slapped the phone book closed and glanced up from her desk to see Jake standing in her office doorway. "Jake!" She clamped a hand over her heart. "You startled me out of my skin." He gave her a slow once-over. "How goes it with you and Ryan?" "Fine. Great. He, um-we're doing fine." She was developing a headache that felt as if it might split her skull, but that was beside the point. "I, um... how are you?"

"Good." He nodded at the phone book. "Can I help you find something? You were looking pretty intense when I interrupted you. What's up?"

"Nothing. I was just-nothing's up."

He searched her gaze. Then, in a low, soft voice, he asked, "You happy, Bethie? That's all I need to know, that he makes you happy."

There was no mistaking the knowing look in her brother's eyes. She'd told her family that she was going to Ryan's for dinner last night. Jake had probably tried to call her later in the evening to make sure she'd gotten home safely. When she didn't answer the phone, he must have concluded that she was spending the night at Ryan's place. Armed with that knowledge, it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. That was a little embarrassing. But if she meant to marry Ryan, she supposed she would have to get used to it.

"Yes, he makes me very happy," she finally replied. "So happy, Jake. I never thought-well, you know -that I could have a life with him. But he's convinced me I can. You know he bought Wink back for me."

Jake raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding! He did?"

Bethany might have been fooled by her brother's feigned surprise if Ryan hadn't told her that Jake had played a role in locating the mare. "It was so good to see her again, Jake. You just can't know. We spent half the evening in her stall. Ate dinner out there and everything." "I'll bet Ryan loved that." Jake chuckled. "I'll let you tell Pop about Wink, by the way. He's going to burst a vessel." Bethany sighed. "Yes, well-maybe I'll wait. Kind of hit him with one thing at a time. It'll probably be a big enough shock when I tell him I'm getting married."

"Oh?" Jake looked surprised again. "This is news."

"Liar. I know you've been talking with Ryan. He told me last night that you hooked him up with the contractors who remodeled his kitchen and that you helped him track down Hunsacker so he could buy Wink back for me."

Jake chuckled. "On that note, I'm heading downstairs to crack the whip."

"Without congratulating me?"

"Congratulations. Just understand, if he doesn't treat you right, you'll be a young widow."

Bethany was still shaking her head when he headed down the hall. She waited a moment, then reopened the phone book, turning back to the list of physicians. There had to be someplace she could go to talk straightforwardly with someone about sex.

"You seen the coffee filters?"

Bethany jumped, slapped the phone book closed again, and glanced up to see Kate, one of the store's employees, in the doorway, holding a coffeepot full of water in one hand. "We have extras filters here in the cabinet."

Bethany hurried over to open the metal door. While waiting, Kate stepped into the office and set the coffeepot on the edge of the desk. After locating the filters, Bethany grabbed a new package and turned to hold them out.

"Thanks," Kate said, reaching over the desk.

A tall, slender woman with lovely features and gleaming auburn hair that hung like a veil to her shoulders, she had always reminded Bethany a little of Cher-a very unpolished and shopworn version. Her heavily made-up brown eyes were bloodshot this morning, and she flashed a strained smile that had "hangover" written all over it. According to Jake, the woman drank heavily and slept with anything in trousers, but she was a good employee who showed up for her shift and came in on her days off when others called in sick. Bethany didn't usually work the floor, which made it difficult to cultivate friendships with the downstairs help, but she'd always liked Kate, sensing she was a warm, genuine person, for all her rough edges.

Kate retrieved the pot of water from the desk. "Too much happy last night," she said in a whiskey-and-smoke voice, "I need a good jolt of caffeine to jump-start the old bod."

"I know that feeling," Bethany said. "Only I don't need too much happy to make me feel that way. I wake up with a dead battery no matter what."

Kate spied the ashtray Bethany kept on her desk for any "no-smoking" offenders to snub out their cigarettes. She glanced over her shoulder at the open door. "Say?" she said conspiratorially. "Would it bother you if I closed that and sneaked a couple of drags? Jake's got a nose like a bloodhound."

"I suppose I can be your partner in crime for one cigarette."

Kate put the pot back on the desk, gave Bethany a grateful look, and closed the door. Smiling as she plucked a pack of Marlboros from her shirt pocket, she said, "You're okay. Thanks. I woke up late, you know? Didn't get my coffee, didn't get my smokes. I feel like I was rode hard and put away wet."

Kate looked that way too. Bethany bit back a smile, watching as the other woman fished in the hip pocket of her skintight blue jeans for her lighter. With a flick, she inhaled gratefully, then exhaled through her nose. "Man, I needed that." Bethany enjoyed the smell of cigarettes while they were being smoked. It was the stench of stale smoke that turned her stomach. "I tried smoking once."

Kate raised her eyebrows. "I never figured you for the type."

Bethany sat back in her chair, about to launch into a comical account of her brief walk on the wild side in college- or in her case, her brief roll on the wild side-with a tight-knit group of female paraplegic friends. As they had all gone through school on special grants for the handicapped, they'd been short on money, so they'd had much more in common than just their physical limitations.

But before Bethany could speak, it hit her like a fist between the eyes that Kate was just the kind of person she'd been praying to find-an expert on sex. And here she was, standing right under Bethany's nose.

"Say, Kate?" Bethany thought quickly. "Are you busy today after work?"

"Why? You need something extra done? I gotta tell you, I have a bitch of a headache. Tomorrow would be a better day for me."

"No, no, nothing like that. I just thought-you know- that maybe we could go have coffee together someplace after work and chat for a while."

Kate frowned. "Have I screwed up? You're not gonna can me, are you?"

Bethany couldn't think of a reasonable explanation for the sudden friendliness so she decided the simple truth was best. "No, nothing like that. I haven't been here very long, and I haven't made many friends yet. Being stuck up here on the second floor most of the time, I can't even get to know the people who work here very well. I've got a problem right now that needs solving, and it's not the sort of thing I'd feel comfortable discussing with one of my brothers. It would be really nice to be able to talk it over with another woman, and I thought maybe you might have a few minutes to spare."

Kate glanced uneasily toward the door. "Jake know about this?"

"No. I'm twenty-six years old. I don't need permission from my brother to have coffee with a friend."