His hand wasn’t steady when he reached for the key to turn off the engines. He needed a moment, perhaps a bit more, to regain the control he’d held so carefully since they’d become lovers again. Even since he’d had her blood on his hands, he had a tremendous fear of hurting her. Since he’d had a taste of her again, he had an equal fear of driving her away. Caution was a strain, but he’d kept it in focus with sheer will. As Ky started down the steps, he told himself he’d continue to be cautious.

She’d unbuttoned her blouse but hadn’t removed it. When he came into the narrow cabin with her, Kate smiled. She was afraid, though she hardly knew why. But over the fear was a heady sense of power and strength that fought for full release. She wanted to take him to the edge, to push him to the limits of passion. At that moment, she was certain she could.

When he came no closer to her, Kate stepped forward and pulled his shirt over his head. “Your skin’s gold,” she murmured. “It’s always excited me.” Taking her pleasure slowly, she ran her hands up his sides, feeling the quiver she caused. “You’ve always excited me.”

Her hands were steady, her pulse throbbed as she unsnapped his cut-offs. With her eyes on his, she slowly, slowly, undressed him. “No one’s ever made me want the way you make me want.”

He had to stop her and take control again. She couldn’t know the effect of those long, fragile fingers when they brushed easily over his skin, or how her calm eyes made him rage inside.

“Kate…” He took her hands in his and bent to kiss her. But she turned her head, meeting his neck with warm lips that sent a spear of fire up his spine.

Then her body was pressed against his, flesh meeting flesh where her blouse parted. Her mouth trailed over his chest, her hands down his back to his hips. He felt the fury of desire whip through him as though it had sharp, hungry teeth.

So he forgot control, gentleness, vulnerability. She drove him to forget. She intended to.

They were tangled on the narrow bunk, her blouse halfway down her back and parted so that her breasts pushed into his chest, driving him mad with their firm, subtle curves. She nipped at his lips, demanding, pushing for more, still more. Waves of passion overtook them.

His need was incendiary. She was like a flame, impossible to hold, searing here, singeing there until his body was burning with needs and fierce fantasies.

Her hands were swift, sending sharp gasping pleasure everywhere at once until he wasn’t sure he could take it anymore. Yet he no longer thought of stopping her. Less of stopping himself.