long, enchanting legs wound tightly around him. Her fingertips grazed
his shoulders, the nails lightly stroking. Soft sounds of passion began
to escape her.
He thrust hard then, unleashing the passion that had grown and simmered
and become explosive 'within him. He moved like the wind and like the
earth, and he whispered to words that meant nothing, words that barely
found and yet words that meant everything. Their lips met again and
again, parted, fused and sealed together, as did their bodies. He felt
himself grow slick with the heat they ignited in the night, and he knew
that he could not hold on much longer. And still he fought the climax
that clamored in his loins, in his heart, in his mind. He fought it,
driving her ever upward, leaving her shivering in moonbeams, taking her
ever higher. Then he felt it. A wild stiffening in her body, a stark
moment in which she seemed to fight him, then she was trembling beneath
him in great shudders.
He cast back his head. He felt a groan rumbling in his throat just as
the heat and fever and excitement within him drew to a massive pitch.
The sound escaped him, the life and energy and heat of his body shot
from him, filling her.
Again and again, shudders seized him, and he filled her again and again.
Then he wrapped his arms around her and held her very tightly. He eased
to her side, taking his weight from her but keeping his arms around her
so that she fell atop him. She sighed softly. Damp tendrils of her hair
curled over him. He touched it and remembered wondering how it would
feel against him.
Like silk. it felt like silk. And it looked like the sun, so blond
against the bronze of his skin. And she felt like silk, her body so
slick with all that had been between then, covering him.
Her face lay against his chest. She didn't say a word, and she didn't
seem to want to look at him.
"Are you all right?" he asked her, softly smoothing back a tendril of
her hair.
She nodded against him.
"Did I--hurt you?"
She shook her head, but still she didn't say a word. "You're not crying,
are you?" he asked her.
"No!" she said in muffled, indignant protest. "Women do, you know."
"Women do!" she repeated, speaking at last. She sat up, and her eyes met
his.
"How many women do you--did you ... Oh, never mind!" She started to
pull away. Her breasts swung heavy and fascinating before him, and he
quickly laughed, pulling her back. His voice was husky when he spoke.
"I've never, never, been in a--er, circumstance like this one before."
"Like" -- "With a virgin," he said flatly.
She flushed crimson. He pulled her close to him. She was wiggling and
squirming, ready to retreat now that it was all over, despite the way
she had played the seductress so boldly. He didn't want to lose her.
"Tess!"
"What? Will you please" -- "I didn't go back to Eliza that night,
either.
The whole thing was a show" -- "Eliza is in love with you."
"Eliza is in love with a lot of people." She Paused, tossing her hair,
studying him with her enormous eyes.
"And what about you?" I m not in love with anyone, he said. Agam"~e felt
her pulling away. He tightened his hold around her. But I am your eyes.
And I love the way you fight until the bitter end, though I could also
strangle you for that same quality. I love the way you think, and I love
the way you take ~ of the people around you, and I even love the way
your ~Yes flash when you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous" -- "Then nosy. You were damned determined to I had
taken my bath."
"Because" -- She broke off, staring at him. i He grinned.
"Because you weren't about to come near me had been near another woman,
was that it?"
He laughed again, hugged her close and rolled her over in the hay.
"Never fear, my feisty little love. When I am near you, I will never
find the need for another."
His lips closed over hers. He stroked his hand down the length of her,
touching her openly and intimately. A sound rumbled in her throat
against his kiss. He ignored her. All the fires of hell were burning
inside him again, and this time he need not be so slow, so careful. She
had learned about tenderness. She was ready to learn about the tempest.
Later, when dawn neared, she slept. Jamie stared at the rafters as the
first pale light of day appeared, impressed by the eagerness and
complete abandon with which she had approached lovemaking. He had never
known a feeling of such relaxation, of physical bliss as her sleeping
body against his.
She had learned many things this night. She slept with her knee slightly
curved upon him, her hair tangled around his shoulders and chest. He
touched a strand lightly, and it was almost as if the gold and honey
touched him back, as if it gave him warmth. He looked at her face, so
beautiful, so perfect, her lips just slightly parted, cherry red in the
first rays of light, tempting. He stroked her shoulder and her back. She
moved against him, and he felt the warmth of her breath upon him as she
sighed softly.
She had learned so much. But he had lea rued a great deal that night,
too.
He had learned that he'd never really made love before. He'd had women,
but he had never really, truly made love. He'd never wanted anyone like
he'd wanted her.
Wanted her still. Who had taught whom? he wondered.
He kissed the soft skin of her back and wondered again at the ripple of
longing that went through him. Then he sighed. He had to wake her up and
let her go hack to the house before the morning began, before the ranch
came alive.
By nine that morning they arrived in town. Jamie drove the wagon with
Tess sitting primly by his side.
Morning had changed things amazingly, he thought. Since he had awakened
her, she had been distant. She had donned her flannel gown, and with it
a peculiar silence. She hadn't seemed remorseful about anything; she had
been cool and quiet. She hadn't sneaked back to the house; she had
walked very calmly. She had promised him she would be ready in thirty
minutes. When he had pressed his lips to hers on first awakening, she
had responded with warmth, but already there had been that widening
within her eyes, as if she thought that something very grave had gone
on, something she hadn't quite realized at the time. He'd almost braced
himself, waiting, but she hadn't anything to say to him at all. She had
dressed quickly and walked to the house. Her chin was high, and she
wasn't about to hide anything, but then again, Jamie thought, maybe she
wasn't about to do anything again, either.
I never wanted to rush it! he reminded himself in silence. But he still
hadn't found the right words to say to her, and she sat by him quietly
as they rode into town. They didn't five words.
It was early, and the streets were nearly still. Only a pass- by or two
walked the plank sidewalks in front of the bank and the barbershop and
the offices of the Wiltshire Sun. Tess bit her lip and looked at the
newspaper office, but she remained silent on that point.
"Mr. Barrymore's office is fright ahead. He was always Joe's solicitor."
"Well, then, fine, we're going to go see Mr. Barrymore." He helped her
from the wagon. She was dressed for ll~ ring in light-blue-and-white
checked muslin, with a matching wide-brimmed bonnet.
The touch of her fingers against his seemed electric. She met his eyes
and flushed.
"We need to talk," he told her.
"I need to get to the newspaper," she retorted.
"So hurry along now, will you?"