It almost burned him,
the look on her face of pride and ownership and fierce love for this land of
hers. She was part of it. She was nature, but not in a robust way – more
childlike. The blue haze of the mountains shone in her eyes. The silver of
scree and rock were mirrored in her hair. She moved with the graceful sway of
the trees. She would change with the seasons and the ebb of the atmosphere,
and he admired that – wanted that – because he and his father had failed so
abysmally.
Entranced, he moved
toward her, wondering if she realized he was going to kiss her. His fingers
laced through her hair. His other hand pulled on the side of her open jacket,
his eyes on hers, clearly signaling his intention.
She did not step back,
although her arms seemed to clamp to her sides.
Oh,
yes, I am going to kiss you, Lucy McKinlay, right or wrong. It was a rare
moment in Ethan’s life. He knew he’d spend a lifetime wondering if he did not
go with the instinct driving him right now.
His mouth descended onto
hers and the first touch of her slowed him down. There was no hurry. If he had
to do this, he would do it properly.
With his tongue he
traced the shape of her small mouth, lingering in the bow in the centre of her
top lip. Cool in the morning chill, and incredibly soft. He coaxed her lips
apart and thought of nature – cold morning air, snow on your tongue, fresh-cut
grass. The swirling sea-colors of her outfit last night as she moved around
the bar, bending and straightening, smiling and chatting. That vision had kept
him awake for most of the night, so restless that he was compelled to take an
early-morning swim. And to knock himself out trying to impress her when he saw
her at the door to the pool.
Lucy’s mouth kissed
back, warming and accepting. Her tongue did not shy from his, her breath
shuddered into his mouth. Her hair was as soft and fine as he had ever felt.
His fingers threaded through it, discovering the shape of her skull, making
her gasp when he massaged the base of it. He wanted more, but it wasn’t so
much carnal or wanting to go further as it was just to continue. The taste of
her, the feel of her skin, it all combined into a whole delicious, addictive
feast.
But her arms were rigid
at her sides. It was that fact that pricked his comprehension, brought him
back through the clouds. His hands moved to her shoulders and ran lightly down
her arms, as if to thaw their stiffness. He leaned back slightly, a little
breathless but wanting to see her response.
Her eyes remained
closed. She captured her bottom lip with small white teeth, and drew it into
her mouth, inhaling. Then her eyes opened and slowly focused on him.
Heavy-lidded,
and fringed by light-brown lashes that seemed longer at the outer corners,
there was real depth in those lovely blue eyes. Surprise. Embers of heat going
up in a little shower of sparks. He’d thought her unresponsive. Afraid, even,
when he’d felt the tension in her arms. She wasn’t. A strong tremor rolled
through her slender body, still pressed up against his. She was holding back,
but she was as affected as he was. Her hands fisted and she pulled them back
behind her, as if that might stop the trembling.
Lucy McKinlay may be
innocent. She might even be a common gold-digger. But he had never wanted to
claim and tame someone so much.
