“I use it now. It’s a good heat source. I thought about putting in an insert, for efficiency, but…” What the hell was he doing? Talking about heat sources and inserts when he had the most beautiful woman in the world in his bedroom?

“It wouldn’t be as charming,” she finished, and with her eyes on his began unbuttoning his shirt.

“No. Do you want me to start a fire?”

“Later. Yes, I think that would be lovely, later. But for now, I have a feeling we can generate enough heat on our own.”

“Kate.” He curled his fingers around her wrists, and wondered that the need pumping through him didn’t burn through the tips and singe her flesh. “If I fumble a little, blame it on this, okay?” He turned his injured hand.

He was nervous, too, she realized. Good. That put them back on even ground. “I bet a man as clever with his hands as you can manage a zipper, no matter what the handicap.” She turned, lifted her hair. “Why don’t we see?”

“Yeah. Why don’t we?”

He drew it down slowly, exposing pale gold skin inch by inch. The curve of her neck and shoulder enticed him, so he lowered his head, brushed his lips just there. When she shivered, arched, he indulged himself, nibbling along her spine, her shoulder blades.

When he turned her to face him, her breath had already quickened.

His mouth cruised over hers, a long, luxurious savoring that liquefied the bones. And while he savored, his hands roamed lightly over her face, into her hair, down her back as if she were some exotic delicacy to be enjoyed slowly. Thoroughly.

She’d expected a repeat of the blast of passion that had exploded between them in her mother’s kitchen. And was undone by the tenderness.

“Tell me…” He nibbled his way across her jaw. “If there’s something you don’t like.”

Her head fell back, inviting him to explore the exposed line of her throat. “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”

His hands, strong, patient, skimmed up her sides to the shoulders of her dress. “I’ve imagined touching you. Driven myself crazy imagining it.”

“You’re doing a pretty good job of driving me crazy now.” She pushed the flannel shirt aside, reached out to tug the thermal shirt he wore beneath it out of the waistband of his jeans, sliding over the hard muscles of his stomach.

But he eased her back. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. He had no intention of rushing it.

He brought her hands to his lips, kissed her fingers, her palms. And felt her pulse leap, then go thick.

“Let me do this,” he murmured. He nudged the dress from her shoulders, watched it slide down her body to the floor.

She was so slender, so finely built a man could forget those tensile muscles beneath all that silky gold-dust skin. Her curves were subtle—a sleek female elegance that fascinated and demanded his touch.