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around a little before the bystanders chased him off. It was the idea of what could have happened that
was so scary. Gosh, men are strong, Cade."
"Some men," he agreed. He glanced at her.
She looked down as he looked up, and her eyes drowned in his dark, intense stare. Her hands stilled
on his arm, and time seemed to go into a standstill around them. She was remembering another night,
another time, when she'd lain on this very bed in his arms and experienced her first intimacy with a
man. But Cade had changed since then. The easygoing, humorous man she'd once known had been
replaced by a far more mature man, a harder man.
He'd never been easy to read, but now nothing showed in his expression.
He reached out without warning and caught her around the waist, pulling her down on the bed beside
him.
"Cade!" she gasped, too shocked to struggle.
He rolled over on his side and one bare arm arched across her body to hold her there while he leaned
on an elbow and watched the expressions cross her face. Her eyes dropped to his chest, and she
wanted to touch him so desperately that she closed them to resist the impulse.
"Afraid?" he asked softly.
Her fingers touched his hard face, sensitive to the rough texture of it where he needed a shave, to the
feel of his cool, thick hair against them. "I'm with you now. I'm safe."
"Not so safe," he said with a faint smile. "But protected, for what it's worth. Suppose I kiss you half to
death and then I can grab a bite to eat and go back out"
"Suppose you just kiss me half to death and forget about going back out?" she asked, tingling all over
as she waited to feel that hard, warm mouth over hers.
"Because," he breathed, fitting his lips slowly, sensitively to hers, "as sure as God made little green
apples, Calla's going to be knocking at that door any minute to make sure you're safe. And once I'm
fed, she'll want to make sure that I'm too tired to find my way to you."
"Calla wouldn't.. "
He kissed her slowly, softly. "Calla would. She's not blind. She sees the way I look at you."
Her heart was racing. "How do you look at me?" she asked.
His mouth smiled mockingly against hers. "Haven't you noticed? Hush. I seem to have waited half my
life to get you in bed with me like this.. ."
She felt his lips nibbling at hers, nudging at them with exquisite slowness, and she relaxed, letting her
fingers curl into the hair at his nape.
His tongue teased its way into her mouth and she gasped sharply at the sudden intimacy, even as she
felt his body moving sensuously against hers. His mouth softened and became coaxing with expert
sureness as his chest scraped abrasively, teasingly across her breasts until the tips hardened. She
moaned softly and he lifted his dark head to look into her eyes, searching them quickly. "Was that fear
or pleasure?" he whispered.
- 43 -
Her lips parted involuntarily. One slender hand moved from the back of his head down over his chest
and stroked him, smoothing the curling dark hair over the warm muscles. "I'm not afraid of you," she
said in a breathless whisper, searching his dark eyes.
"I could make you afraid, though, couldn't I, Abby?" he asked, as if it mattered. "You're still very
vulnerable."
"You make me sound like a terrified virgin," she replied.
His warm fingers stroked the long, pale hair back from her flushed face. "I'm doing my damndest to
remember that you are one," he said softly. "It's hard for a man to make love like this, Abby. To
remember not to kiss too hard, not to touch too intimately. . "
Her eyes betrayed the surprise she felt at what he was confessing. "Have you been deliberately
holding back all this time?" she asked, searching his eyes. "Because you thought you might frighten
me?"
He drew in a deep breath, and she felt his chest expand against her breasts. "I couldn't bear to hurt
you," he said. His voice was like velvet, deep and dark and softly textured. "I've treated you like
porcelain since you've been here. I've damned near worked myself into an early grave to keep away.
.and tonight, I caved in. I kept remembering how you were this morning, how you begged for my
mouth.. ." His eyes closed, his face tautened. "Oh, God, Abby, what am I going to do about you?" he
groaned.
She couldn't even speak. He looked so incredibly vulnerable, as if he were at the end of some
imaginary rope. Her fingers stroked his broad shoulders, loving the very texture of his skin. She
loved everything about him, every line and curve of him.
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