"It's lovely." Turning toward him, she placed her hands on his chest. "Let's don't ever tear it down. I love it just the way it is."
Suddenly his heart expanded until he didn't think it would be able to hold all that he felt for her. Grasping her lightly by the shoulders, he pulled her to him as he lowered his head. Her sweet fragrance was nothing compared to the taste of her mouth. With tenderness giving way to the needs of passion, his arms encircled her but the straw hat she wore proved to be an undeniable nuisance, so reluctantly he released her.
"I guess I should take out the pins," she offered, reaching up to remove them. Then he slid the hat from her head, tossing it onto a rug.
"That's much better," he said as his fingers plied the confining coil of hair at her nape until finally its thickness fell about her shoulders. Gently, he lifted a handful to his face, savoring the texture and the scent before brushing it back out of his way. Then his gaze swept over her face until it rested lower, where her quickened pulse beat visibly above the top button of her dress. With deliberate care he worked the first one free.
She in turn tugged at his tie. "Shouldn't we bring in the basket?"
He heard the breathless catch in her voice, and his fingers stopped at the fourth button. Slowly, he peeled back the gown and dropped a kiss on her now bare shoulder. ''Later," he replied.
Closing her eyes, she reveled in the ripple of emotion that cascaded through her as she allowed him to slip the soft yellow satin from her body.
"What if the horse goes back to the livery?" she asked, barely aware that she spoke of ordinary things when such extraordinary things were happening in the center of her being.
"I guess," he said, stopping to nibble at the swell of her breast above her chemise, "we'll just have to stay here until somebody finds us."
"Mmmm." She lifted her arms to circle his neck. "That could take a while."
Pulling her flush against him, he replied with great sincerity, "I hope so."
Her responding smile became lost as his mouth melded with hers, bringing a sweet warmth that suffused her entirely. Any thoughts of what she ought to do next seemed pointless under the circumstances. Her body definitely had a will of its own, and she was, quite simply, at the mercy of these new emotions. As his kiss deepened, she was drawn, body, mind and soul, into another awareness, and suddenly the outside world fell away. They were free to explore, to touch and be touched, to give and to receive.
She felt his work-roughened hands caress her body as he unbuttoned, unlaced, and removed the rest of her clothing. Setting her slightly away from him, he removed his own clothes. Standing now, with their bodies touching, she reached up to trace the outline of his jaw.
"Ross Hollister, I love you," she said softly.
He lifted her into his arms and laid her on the bed, stretching his frame alongside her and pulling her soft curves into the contours of his hard ones. The heat of his skin was like a match to her own.
"Remember the day I pulled you into the stream?"
She nodded, her muscles feeling too fluid for even a smile.
"I had an idea then how you would look." He ran one fingertip lightly over the crest of her breast, and she gasped. "I was right."
Her eyes slid closed in anticipation of what was to come next. Not in her wildest fantasies had she believed it could be like this. So bold, so free, so full of loving.
"Irene, open your eyes. I want us to do this together, not separately in our own worlds."
She opened her eyes and smiled. "We'll never be separate again. No matter what."
He leaned over her then, covering her with his body, touching her with his lips, caressing her with his hands. A fiery tremor built inside her, rising until it engulfed her and encompassed both of them. Passion, all-consuming, bore them to a new height as she welcomed him into her body. They moved with it, flowed with it, soaring higher and higher until ultimately they succumbed to wave after wave of ecstasy, pure and explosive.
"Irene," he whispered into the curve of her neck where his breath caused a delicious tingling in her skin. It wasn't a question, so she didn't answer. She knew he was simply saying her name aloud in order to bring some reality to a moment that seemed unbelievable.
"Ross," she whispered back, expecting no reply.
He shifted his weight slightly so as not to burden her. For several long minutes they held each other, savoring the experience, enjoying the gift that each had just received. This was just the beginning of such moments, and that knowledge alone made it more precious.
At long last, he rolled back, taking her with him until they lay face to face. Irene kissed his chin, and he in turn kissed the tip of her nose. She snuggled against him, entwining her legs with his, filled with an uncontrollable joy.
With his arms wrapped securely around her, he cradled her head against his shoulder.
"What do you think about building a house out here?" he asked.
"I wouldn't want to live anywhere else," she replied, snuggling closer.
Smiling, he added, "There's plenty of room for children."
"Jonathan will love it. And so will Lydia."
"And what about more children?" he asked, tipping her chin up so he could look into her eyes.
"I imagine that isn't going to be a problem," she replied with a mischievous grin.
Outside the cabin, the horse nickered softly.
"I suppose I'd better unharness him. He must think we're trying to torture him with all that fresh grass that he can't reach." Reluctantly, he rose from the bed, depositing a lingering kiss on her lips.
"Can't he wait just little longer?" she asked, refusing to release her hold on his neck. "After all, we have some important planning to do." She gave a tug and he fell onto the bed, his lips just a whisper away.
"On second thought," he replied, scooping her into his arms. "Maybe he can wait . . ."
Abiding Love Page 32