"I've never looked at you, even if I have touched you like this 73 before," he whispered, his hands coming back to the b.u.t.tons that secured the shirt. "Now I'm going to."

She sat up while he divested her of everything she wore above the waist. But when she started to lie back down, his hands pre- vented her.

He held her there, his lips teasing hers while his knuckles played with exquisite tenderness against her taut nipples. She shivered, and he lifted his head to look at her eyes.

"This is exciting," he said unsteadily. "I've never done this."

"Neither have I," she confessed.

"I want you... in my mouth, Tess," he whispered jerkily, bending his head.

She arched back over his arms as he opened his mouth on her breast and began a warm, moist suction against the nipple. It was like flying, she thought shakily. She felt a burst of heat in her lower body, a surge of ecstasy that startled a cry from her lips.

"Yes," he said, nuzzling the softness his mouth was exploring.

"Yes, little one."

She went from plateau to plateau in the minutes that followed, so dazed and helpless from pleasure that she lay almost lifeless while he removed her clothes. Then she watched him take off his own, afterwards noticing the way he hesitated with his back to her.

"It won't...matter," she said, her voice thick and unsteady as she realized why he was hesitating. She could see the deep scar the bullets had left near his spine. She knew there were worse ones on his chest. "I love you!"

He turned. Her eyes went to the core of his masculinity with awe and wonder before they reluctantly moved to his scarred chest and shoulder and leg. There were white streaks and an area that was graphic evidence of a shooting, but to Tess, who loved him, they were only faint imperfections in a body that nature couldn't have improved on.

She shifted on the coverlet, a tiny movement of her hips, her long tegs, as she looked up into his eyes and shivered. Woman at the mercy of man and her own aching need of him.

"You are the most beautiful human being I've ever seen," he said hoa.r.s.ely, his eyes on her body.

74Diana Palmer "So are you," she whispered.

He eased down beside her, trembling from his years of abstinence and his raging hunger for this one woman. "I want you, baby," he whispered against her warm belly, feeling her jerk under its intimate touch. "Feel how much."

He slid over her, against her, while his lips touched hers in tender teasing, his powerful, hair-roughened body hard and sensually ab- rasive against hers as he drew it over her trembling warmth. The evidence of his need was blatant and awesome.

"Let me fill you," he whispered at her open mouth. He positioned her carefully as his tongue teased around her lips and slowly, slowly, past her teeth into the soft, sweet darkness of her mouth. "Open your mouth...for me."

Incredible, she thought in the flash of blind pain that accompanied the words and his slow movement. Incredible, that he could make her want him so much....

His lean hand was on her thigh, curling around it, pulling her upward. It contracted, but what she felt was his tongue sliding into her mouth, the fullness of it warm and welcome. The pain came again and she shivered.

"I'm sorry that I have to hurt you like this,'' he breathed, nibbling at her mouth. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. His were dark as night, blazing, glazed. His hand contracted again and pulled.

"Let me watch you become a woman," he whispered, his eyes holding hers as he slowly pushed his hips down against hers.

Her nails curled into his shoulders and she gasped, shuddering.

"Tell me," he whispered huskily as he moved. "Share it with me."

"It...burns," she choked. "Like...fire!"

His breath was hot in her mouth as he looked at her and moved again. "Don't cry, little one," he said huskily. "Only a few more seconds..."

She moaned and shivered. His remorseful eyes held hers and he took a long, shaky breath. His hand contracted. "You're going to fight me now, because it's going to hurt like h.e.l.l. But I have to finish it," he whispered, and the muscles in his hips bunched. His eyes dilated as he felt the barrier give. His face flushed with the 75 knowledge, even as he heard her cry out and saw her eyes dilate with pain.

He didn't stop. She pushed at him frantically, but he didn't stop.

Her head went back and she sobbed. Then, when she thought she couldn't bear it, the pain all at once eased.

He let out the breath he'd been holding. He didn't move, his body poised against her, his eyes holding hers. He smiled.

Her eyes were bright with tears. He bent and kissed them, sipping the wetness away, his cheek sliding against hers as his lips pressed with aching tenderness all over her face and he whispered husky words of endearment and praise.

Her hands relaxed on his shoulders and her body followed suit.

She felt his possession of her increase with the tiny movement and she flushed as she met his eyes.

He smiled tenderly, through his own raging need. "Now I can make love to you, Tess," he said softly. "It won't hurt anymore."

His teeth caught her upper lip and nibbled at it softly as his hips lifted and pushed, lifted and pushed, in a slow, tender rhythm that made her gasp and jerk with sudden, stark pleasure.

He watched her react to it with an excess of male pride. "You were very brave," he whispered as he increased the pressure and rhythm, feeling her body begin to echo his slow movements. "Very, very brave. You didn't even cry out."

"Dane?" she cried, frightened.

"Let me pleasure you," he whispered, bending to her mouth as the silver ripples worked up his spine. "I'll teach you now. I'll teach you, baby."

Instinctively she knew he'd never done this before, never loved anyone the way he was loving her. It was as if he, too, were a virgin all over again. She clung to him, sobbing as he'd promised she would, begging for fulfillment at the last. He gave it to her unex- pectedly, completely, lifted his head and watched her convulse, and smiled through his own fierce excitement before it caught him up in its vortex and made him cry out harshly with the sheer joy of ecstasy.

He held her for a long time afterward, drying her tears, kissing her undemandingly, soothing her torn, exhausted body. He got up 76Diana Palmer and got a cold beer from the refrigerator, sharing it with her while he had a cigarette. He wasn't thinking about tomorrow. There was only tonight, only the joy of loving, the beauty of her whispered love for him, the sweet anguish of fulfillment.

He put the half-finished beer on the bedside table, and crushed out his cigarette. Then he eased her over onto her back and slid up beside her.

"I'm going to take you again, now," he whispered as he moved between her long, trembling legs. "This time, it will be very slow, very gentle. This time, you'll feel it so intensely that you'll cry out, as I did earlier."

"I...love you," she whispered frantically, her body so perfectly attuned to his that the first hard thrust of it brought a cry of ecstasy from her parched lips.

"Already?" he asked huskily, moving fiercely against her.

"Now," she groaned. "Now, now, now...!"

He thought that never in his life had he felt such sensations. He convulsed almost immediately, feeling her body surge under him, hearing her hoa.r.s.e cries as he fulfilled her once, twice, three times.

He shouldn't have been capable of this, of endless potency, of tire- less arousal. But he was. Perhaps the abstinence, or what he felt for her, or even her unexpectedly sweet sensuality triggered it. Whatever the reason, by the time he finally rolled away from her, too ex- hausted to even kiss her swollen mouth one last time, he was asleep before his head even reached the pillow.

The next morning, she kissed him awake. He opened his eyes and saw her over him, saw the light in her eyes, and he groaned softly as he levered her instantly onto her back and rolled onto her body.

"No," she whispered quickly, blushing when he loomed over her with virile intent. 'Tm sorry,'' she said miserably. ''But it hurts...."

He breathed slowly until he could calm his blood. His hand smoothed over her soft breast. "I took you four times," he whis- pered, lifting his eyes back to hers. "I hurt you."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Oh, no, you didn't hurt me."

He brushed his lips over hers, and then over her eyes. "But I would if we made love now?"

"I'm afraid so."

77 He sighed and rolled onto his back. "I should have thought about that. I'm not properly awake. Do you want some coffee?"

"Yes. I'll make it."

She started to get up, realized she was undressed, and pulled the sheet demurely to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

He glanced at her, following her embarra.s.sed gaze to his own body. He made a sound and threw his legs over the side of the bed, carelessly tugging on his briefs and jeans and socks while she watched.

"You can dress while I shave," he said. He didn't look at her.

She watched him with soulful eyes that he didn't see. I love you, she wanted to say. But he wouldn't have said it back, even if he had made love to her like a man out of his mind with it. He loved her. She was certain of it now, and her eyes adored him.

"Get a move on," he said from the doorway. "We'll be late for work."

"Oh. Of course."

He didn't mention what had happened. Not by word or inference did he refer to it. He was all business.

Tess had expected resistance. She wasn't surprised by his att.i.tude.

He was a man afraid of emotion, and he had every reason to be. He couldn't be sure even of Tess. She knew that, and wasn't offended.

"Helen said I could go with her at lunchtime to that stakeout,"

she began as they finished toast and coffee.

He glared at her. "No."

"Let me finish, please," she said quietly. "I'm going to be the decoy. While people are watching me, she's going to be following them."

"You'd be too vulnerable," he said shortly. "Helen isn't being stalked by dope peddlers. You are. No, ma'am. You'll be where I can see you, all the time. I'm not trusting you to anyone except me."

She blushed. "All right."

He scowled darkly. "And don't get any ideas about what hap- pened last night. That was a one-off, do you hear me?"

Her eyebrows lifted. "A one-off?" she asked.

His cheeks went ruddy. She looked surprised that he could refer 78.

to something so profound in such a way. He was surprised at him- self. He glared at her, his heart racing. "What did you expect me to say?" he asked coldly. "That it was the closest I'll get to heaven without dying?"

"Not really," she agreed. "But it was. For me, I mean."

"I hurt you."

Her eyes lifted, searching his. "At first," she agreed. Then she smiled.

His breathing went ragged as the memory of the pleasure they'd shared washed over him. Just looking at her aroused him. He got up from the table, slamming his napkin down. "Let's get out of here," he said roughly.

She went along without an argument, wrapped in acres of dreams and delight because she was loved. He would fight it. That was inevitable. But in the end, he was going to lose. He couldn't resist her any more than she could resist him, but she had to give him time. She couldn't rush him. Not with so much at stake.

Her only regret was that a child couldn't come of the beauty they'd created together. She would have loved a child so much.

Once they got to the office that morning, problems claimed their attention immediately, and for Dane, it seemed to be a relief. He got into the thick of it without a backward glance, leaving Tess to sort out schedules and appointments.

The past few days had been so eventful that Tess had all but forgotten the night she'd been shot. Her arm was a little sore, and it had gotten a workout last night. She flushed and smiled, remem- bering Dane's mouth on the healed wound. She'd touched his scarred back and shoulder and leg with equal tenderness, stroking it while he made love to her, whispering that it was a badge of honor, a war wound. It had increased the pleasure. She could still hear his voice as he cried out, almost sobbing as the force of ecstasy lifted him over her and shook his powerful body like a whip.

She caught her breath. Could he really believe something that beautiful was only explainable as a "one-off"? She knew better. He did, too, but he'd been hurt so badly that he couldn't accept it just yet.Her attention was diverted by the telephone, but as the day on her body reminded her of the unusual activity it had been sub- jected to the night before. It was difficult to sit, though she didn't dare mention it in case someone became suspicious.

At lunch, she watched the operatives who were in the office leave; luncheon, so she was in the office alone. He probably hadn't realized she would be by herself when he'd refused to let her go out with Helen for the noon meal. Well, she'd walk up the street to the fast food restaurant and get chicken and biscuits. It was better than noth- ing.

She put on her coat and locked the office behind her. Her mind was on Dane instead of on where she was going. The sudden shock of a man's hand clamping over her mouth surprised her into stunned immobility.

"Here you are, pretty thing," a rasping voice said harshly. "Right on schedule. When I'm through with you, you won't be in any hurry to tell a jury what you saw!"

Chapter Six.

Tess couldn't remember ever being quite so afraid. The man had her in a half nelson, and he was slowly dragging her to the front door of the building, where another man was sitting in a running car.

This couldn't be happening, she told herself. She couldn't let it happen. A knife was being held at her ribs, and she felt the certainty of death like black ice on her tongue.

If she let him get her into the car, she didn't have a prayer. She would die. They'd carry her off and then certainly kill her. Desperate men, desperate deeds. The car the other man was driving was an expensive brown sedan, and they were both wearing suits. These were no run-of-the-mill street people, no lower-rank mules. These were men who made millions on the despair and desperation of weak people, and they certainly wouldn't mind killing anyone who stood between them and their livelihood.

Dane had known that. But Tess hadn't realized it until now, when it was too late.

There was a chance, only a brief one, that she might get away before the men got her into the car. When he opened the door at the front of the building, he was certainly going to have to take that knife away from her rib cage for an instant. If she was quick and kept her head, she might get away.

Her heart raced madly. She was shaking all over, but she couldn't give way to panic and fear. She kept telling herself that, going over 81 everything she'd learned from the operatives, the slick little moves they'd taught her about how to get away from a potential attacker.

She'd listened and learned. Now those lessons were going to pay off.

She went along with him, acting terrified to throw him off guard.

She pleaded with him tearfully to set her free. All the time her mind was working, going over and over the one move she was going to employ when the time came.

It was working. She felt him begin to relax his painful grip. He laughed. He was enjoying her fear. The front door was a foot away.