Cynthie tensed, wondering what on earth she had gotten herself into.

But if it might help Winn, she was willing to try anything, anything at all.

"Go ahead," she said.

He turned toward her, leaning his back on the post. "They're just dreams,"

he reminded her.

"But if you talk about them, maybe they won't come back," she urged.

"They're never the same, Cynthie." He was amazed at her persistence.

Maybe he should just tell

her he dreamed of angry cattle and skittish mares and let her go back to bed.

Cynthie watched his face almost disappear as clouds blocked the moon.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to be in darkness like this all the time. She reached up toward the face she could barely see but stopped short of touching him.

"Did you have these dreams before the accident?"

Winn shook his head.

"The first time I heard your voice I dreamed of angels." He wasn't sure why

he'd said it; perhaps to warn her there was more he wanted than comfort.

The breeze brought the cool promise of rain. They heard the low rumble ofdistant thunder. After a long minute, Winn asked, "What do you look like?"Cynthie's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't speak around the lump in her throat. She found his hands and brought them to her face. She felt a heat

in her body that had more to do with desire than the warmth of his touch. He touched her cheeks thin king how soft the skin was under his roughfingers. He let his left hand cradle the side of her face while his righthand traced the curve of her ear. He caught a lock of hair between his thumband forefinger and gently followed it down to its end.

"What color is your hair?"

"Black," she whispered.

"As black as the night?" he asked, running his fingers through it to feel

its silky texture.

"At least," she said.

"Then I can see it as well as anybody." His hand went back to exploring her

face. He traced a finger

over her nose and brow. Her bones seemed small beneath his fingers, the curves of her features gentle and soft. She must be beautiful, he thought with a pang of longing. His voice turned husky when he asked, "What color are your eyes?"

"Brown," she said. The touch of his fingers and the sound of his voice werema king her knees weak. She leaned toward him, seeking his support. "There are lots of browns. Brown like what?" He had to keep some sort of reason in the conversation.

Cynthie laughed self-consciously.

"I don't know," she said.

"Brown like Lullaby?" His hands were cupping her face, his thumbs gently

rubbing her cheeks.Cynthie hesitated."I don't think so.""Brown like a thrush," he suggested."Darker," she said and laughed again."About like your saddlebags."Winn chuckled softly."That dark, huh?" His thumbs worked their way down her face."And what shade of pink are your lips?" He felt as if he had just stepped over a thin line he had thought he was avoiding.

Cynthie's breath caught in her throat.

"I ... I don't know."

His voice dropped to just above a whisper.

"I can't tell much about them with just my fingers."

Cynthie leaned toward him, so slightly she wasn't even conscious of it.

It was all the invitation Winn needed. He lowered his head and touched his

lips to hers but only for a second.

"They taste just like I remember them," he whispered.

"Better be sure," she breathed.

Winn thought he must not have heard her right, but there were no othersounds that could have confused him. Slowly she leaned into his body andbrought her lips back to his.

Winn felt her silky gown brush against his bare chest and fought the urge topull her more tightly against him. He had no right to this woman. She wasn't offering what she seemed to be. She was. h.e.l.l, he didn't know whatshe was doing. He wondered if she did. He kept the kiss soft and gentle aslong as he could. When his need for her threatened to control him, he pulled away.

She sighed softly and whispered, "I don't think you've studied them enough."

She leaned toward him again but he caught her shoulders.

"I don't think you realize what you're doing."

"Of course I do, Winn." She tried to lean against him but he stopped her.

"Cynthie." Frustration tinged his voice with anger. "I may be blind but I'mstill a man. Go back to your room before it's too late." He dropped hishands from the soft shoulders and realized he was still praying she wouldstay.

"I love you, Winn," she whispered softly, leaning against him.

"Only a blind man wouldn't see it."

Winn wasn't sure which startled him the most, her declaration of love, herteasing or the soft body he suddenly found pressed against him.

When her lips found his again, he gave up and gathered her into his arms.Minutes later, he took her hand and led her into the house and through thedark to his bedroom.

He stopped with his leg touching the side of his bed and turned her into his arms. Without some solid object for reference, he was afraid he wouldlose track of where he was if he kissed her again, and he wanted very much tokiss her again. But first he had to know. "Are you sure, Cynthie?"

Cynthie ran her hands slowly up his bare chest, feeling the soft hairs, thestrong muscles and the hard collarbone. When her hands were on his shoulders, she used them to lift herself upward and planted a soft kiss onhis lips as an answer to his question.

Winn gathered her into his arms, nearly bringing her feet off the floor.

She clasped her arms around his neck and held him as tightly as he held her.After a moment his arms relaxed and she came slowly back to earth.

His fingers sought the front of her gown for ribbons to loosen and shedelighted in the warm touch. Her hands trailed down his chest to the waist of his trousers and began to undo the b.u.t.tons.

Winn inhaled sharply.

"You have an advantage," he rasped.

"I can't see the fasteners."

Cynthie heard the hint of frustration in his voice and giggled softly.

"Not true. It's dark in here." She brushed his fingers away and quicklyfound the ribbons.

Winn heard the whisper of cloth as her gown slid from her shoulders and ontothe floor. He knew she stood before him naked, truly offering herself tohim, and wondered for a second if this was just another dream. If he awoke now to find himself alone it would be the crudest nightmare of all.

Cynthie gave him a tantalizing kiss at the base of his throat and lay down onthe bed. In a moment he followed gingerly, afraid of hurting her. When she was nestled against the length of his body he stroked her hair andwhispered, "I think I fell in love with you the first time I heard yourvoice, I just didn't know it until later."

The words warmed Cynthie's heart and her lips sought his again. She clung tohis neck as he slowly rolled her to her back and covered her body with his.

Winn's senses were so filled with the smell and taste and feel of her that,had he been able to see, he was sure he would have closed his eyes to savorthe other sensations. His fingers explored the curves of her body. He tasted the skin on her neck and felt her pulse under his lips. He inhaled the scent of her hair as if it were life itself.

The wonderful sensations that had spread to every part of Cynthie's bodyseemed more intense than any she had felt before. At first she tried to tell herself to hold back, not to let the feelings overwhelm her, that it wouldonly leave her more disappointed when it ended. But Winn's touch was too sweet to resist and soon she was beyond hearing any call but that of desire.

Winn marveled at the fact that this woman could love him. He could feel the truth of it in every touch. She gave herself to him so freely, answering hispa.s.sion with her own, that he thought his heart would burst.

Cynthie was past wondering, past thin king at all. She was part of Winn andhe of her. Their bodies moved together in a victory dance while their lipsdrank a toast to love. The bonfire at the core of their being rose higher

until it exploded like fireworks in a diffusion of pleasure.For a long time afterward, while Cynthie slept in his arms, Winn lay awakeand considered what had happened. How could he live up to the love sheoffered? Could he, Winn, the blind cowboy, become the man she deserved? Hefelt her snuggle closer to him and sigh in her sleep. He smiled and kissedthe top of her head. Somehow he would find a way to do it.

Cynthie stood in the doorway in her nightgown. It was time she started breakfast, but she had to try once more to talk him out of this.

"But you'll be more comfortable here," she argued.

"Comfort isn't the issue," he said calmly.

He was gathering up his things and she refused to make a move to help him.

In fact, she considered taking things out of his bag as he put others into it. "And what is the issue?"

"I've got no right to be here. We proved that last night. It'll happen

again if I stay.""You make it sound like last night was some awful mistake!" If he said itwas, she wouldn't believe him. She knew what they had shared was special; ithurt too much to even consider otherwise.

Winn stood still for a moment, facing her.

"No, sweet, not exactly a mistake and certainly not awful," he said softly.