One by one, her mind on the music, she undid the buttons on her blouse. Beneath it she wore pearl-gray silk without frills. The teddy was as smooth as her skin, and very thin. She brushed the first slender strap from her shoulder before Reeve stepped forward.

“Gabriella.”

She would have jumped or gasped if she hadn’t recognized his voice. She turned slowly because she recognized the need in it, as well. He was standing just inside the room, but she could feel his heat and it immediately aroused her. He made no move, only watched, but she felt his touch slide over every inch of her. The sun was still strong enough to light the room, but her thoughts turned to night. And excitement.

Without a word she held out a hand.

Without a word he went to her.

They spoke with touches, the brush of a fingertip, the press of a palm. You’re mine. I’ve waited for you. I’ve ached for you. Mouth moved over mouth silently, but hundreds of things were said. This is all I’ve wanted. You’re all I’ve needed. You.

She undressed him, not too quickly. Each could feel the ache build to pain. It was exquisite. She drew his shirt from his shoulders, and still the only word that had been spoken between them was her name. In wordless agreement, they lowered themselves onto the bed.

He hadn’t known any woman could make him want so badly. He had only to think of her to need. But to touch her … to feel her, soft and strong against him, was enough to make him forget he’d had a life before Gabriella.

He ran his hand over the silk, feeling it warm with the friction, feeling her move beneath. Her skin and the silk slid along his own flesh. Temptation. Her hands roamed over him freely, seeking pleasure, giving it. Desire. A kiss went on endlessly until they both were surrounded by every soft, every sweet sensation. Surrender.

Brie went limp, weakened by a deluge of feeling too strong to measure. He could do no more than go where the kiss led him. Into her.

The silk was brushed away with a stroke of his hand. When he slid inside her, the passion was subtle, timeless. Her breath shuddered. His muscles bunched, then flowed, then bunched again. Together they moved. Neither led, neither followed, because both were lost.

Her hands were firm on his shoulders; his fingers were curled into her hair. Their gazes locked as the rhythm matched the sultry heated music that dripped into the room.

It wasn’t a matter of control, his or hers, but of mood. Savor. Prolong. He couldn’t have described the sensations that rippled through him, overtook him, enclosed him, but he could have spoken in minute detail of what the sun did to her hair, of how pleasure affected her eyes.

She’d remember this always. If everything else was stripped from her again, Brie knew that this moment would remain perfectly clear.