“You responded like a woman who knows what it is to want.”

She didn’t back away, though he was closer now. His face, she thought, wasn’t one a woman would be comfortable with on long, rainy evenings. It would excite continually. His hands, large, elegant, strong, wouldn’t make a woman dream softly. They’d make her pulse, even in sleep. She already knew it.

“Perhaps I am. After all, I’m not a child.”

“No.” He closed the gap. The wind whipped between them as he stepped forward. “Neither of us is.”

Her mouth was soft, but it wasn’t hesitant. It answered his, as it had the night before. No, life was never simple, he thought as he drew her closer. But God, it could be sweet.

She gave herself to him. Somehow she needed to just then with the sea thrashing below and the wind moaning. They were so alone it seemed right that they come together, body to body, mouth to mouth. She felt his hand slide up to her hair, firm, strong. As his fingers tangled in it, she let her head fall back. It wasn’t surrender, but temptation.

His heartbeat was as hard and quick as hers. She could feel it pound against her. The sun was strong, so she kept her eyes closed until the light was red and warm. He tasted … enticing. Male, dark, not quite safe. She felt as if she were walking along the top of a wall, above the rock and water. It was frightening. Wonderful. She ran her hands up over his back. There was muscle there. Security. Danger. She wanted both. Just for a moment, this moment, she could be any woman. Even royalty bows to passion.

She was soft, but she wasn’t safe. He knew it. He’d known it before he’d let himself be driven to touch her. Just as he knew he’d be driven to touch again and again what he was beginning to crave. The scent she wore seemed to swim around him, lighter than the air, darker than the sea.

Did she know? Even as he submerged himself deeper in her, he wondered if she knew what she did. The eyes of a sorceress, the face of an angel. What man wouldn’t be on his knees to her? Yet her sigh, quiet, low, was that of a woman. Flesh and blood or fairy tale, she was bound to tempt him. She wasn’t meant to be resisted.

But he had no choice.

He drew her away much as he had the night before—slowly, reluctantly, but inevitably. Her eyes remained closed for just a moment longer, as if she were savoring the moment. But when they opened, her look was direct and level. Perhaps both of them knew they had to step back from the edge.

“Your family will wonder where you are.”

She nodded, taking the final step back. “Yes. Obligations come first, don’t they?”

He didn’t answer, but they walked back to the car together.