She was so slender, so soft beneath the thin nightshirt. Her hair lay over his skin, loose and free, its color muted in the dim light. He could feel her palms against his back, those elegant hands that had always made him think more of an artist than a teacher. Her breathing was quiet, serene, as he knew it was when she slept. The light scent of woman clung to the material of the nightshirt.

Holding her didn’t bring the pain he’d expected but a contentment he’d been aching for without realizing it. The tension in his muscles eased, the knot in his stomach vanished. With his eyes closed, he rested his cheek on her hair. It seemed like a lifetime since he’d known the pleasure of quiet satisfaction. She’d asked him to hold her, but had she known he needed to be held just as badly?

Kate felt him relax degree by degree and wondered if it had been she who’d caused the tension in him, and she who’d ultimately released it. Had she hurt him more than she’d realized? Had he cared more than she’d dared to believe? Or was it simply that the physical need never completely faded? It didn’t matter, not tonight.

Ky was right. She knew the rules this time around. She wouldn’t expect more than he offered. Whatever he offered was much, much more than she’d had in the long, dry years without him. In turn, she could give what she ached to give. Her love.

“It’s the same for me as it always was,” she murmured. Then, tilting her head back, she looked at him. Her hair streamed down her back, her eyes were wide and honest. He felt the need slam into him like a fist.

“Kate—”

“I never expected to feel the same way when I came back,” she interrupted. “I don’t think I’d have come. I wouldn’t have had the courage.”

“Kate, you’re not well.” He said it very slowly, as if he had to explain to them both. “You’ve lost blood, had a fever. It’s taken a lot out of you. It’d be best, I think, if you tried to sleep now.”

She felt no fever now. She felt cool and light and full of needs. “That day on the beach during the storm, you said I’d come to you.” Kate brought her hands up his back until they reached his shoulders. “Even then I knew you were right. I’m coming to you now. Make love with me, Ky, here, in the bed where you loved me that first time.”

And the last, he remembered, fighting back a torrent of desire. “You’re not well,” he managed a second time.