And there it was again: the burning, the loss of breath in her chest, the sweet fire in her chest, lower, in her stomach, lower…Gabby’s tongue met Quill’s, her heart speeding to a beat that sent a rhythm through her entire body.

“I burn,” Quill said, tearing his mouth away from hers. He was unable to keep his hands steady—or to keep them in gentlemanly bounds. He ran his fingers down her neck and then ruthlessly pulled down the delicate muslin of her morning gown.

Gabby gasped but didn’t protest. Her little cap sleeve slid without resistance to her elbow, and her chemise followed.

Quill’s voice was a low rumble, dark with passionate need. “I burn, Gabby. I pine, I perish.” He kissed the sweet cream of her shoulder, his hands tracing a bold demand. His lips drifted to her neck, breathed the words against her skin. “I am burning, Gabby.”

She sighed as his palm rounded her breast, sending a wave of tiny shivers down her body.

“You must…You must.” His voice died against her skin and was replaced by silence.

Quill raised his head to find Gabby speechless, perhaps for the first time in her life. He kissed her lips gently, a butterfly kiss, and then took her face in his large hands, holding its perfect oval. His fingers trailed a caress over her curved eyebrows, down the sweep of her high cheekbones. With his hands, he marveled. With his fingers, he sang a poem, trailing over her lips. Gabby’s eyes were a brandy-golden color that a star would weep to call its own. “What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty,” Quill said quietly, “As those two eyes become that heavenly face? “

Gabby’s hands came up to cover his. She met his eyes. “That’s not fair,” she whispered. “Bianca hasn’t a decent line in the whole play”

“Sod the play.” Quill pulled her into his arms again and spoke against her mouth. “I want you, Gabby.” His hand was on the sweet curve of her bottom, pulling her against his hard body. “Oh, God, I can’t live without you. I am perishing.”

Gabby heard the rough plea in his voice and gave a little sob, twisting up to put her mouth against his lips. “Kiss me, Quill. Kiss me again.”

And he did, of course.

They fell, together, in a whirlwind of desire. In the heat of it, Gabby swayed backward, and Quill followed, his body finding its rest naturally, his weight sinking onto Gabby’s sweet lushness, hard close to soft.