He was going to die. He really thought it possible. He knew a number of ways to make love safely, to please a woman without undue risk, but he wanted to fumble now like a untaught boy, so hot he could not think past the fact that he could feel her nipples. His ears were roaring. Memories of erotic kisses they had shared engulfed him, instants of passion that he had carried in his memory for years, the images he used to take his own pleasure.

He held himself very still and ran his fingertip around one small nub, feeling it rise in response. Her leg stretched out, sliding along his as she sighed in her sleep. She had wanted more this afternoon; he told himself he would satisfy her now. Gratify her and please her and go no further.

He bent his forehead against the nape of her neck, his mouth and jaw locked in an ironic smile. Self controlled lover that he was, he was trembling, his full member pressed against her just below her buttocks. He'd never been in a bed with Callie. He doubted he was able to move without losing mastery of himself.

She stirred, rolling over toward him. He pulled back, feeling her awaken, expecting her to jerk away and cry out in surprise. But she only stiffened a little, holding herself still. His hand was resting on her shoulder.

"Trev," she mumbled drowsily.

"Wicked Callie," he whispered.

She came into his embrace suddenly and fully, making a thankful little sound, as if she'd been having a nightmare and awoken to find safety. He drew her tight against him in spite of his arousal, touched to his heart by the simple way she reached for him.

"I couldn't leave," she said, her face buried in his throat. "I didn't know what to do."

"It's all right," he said against her temple.

"Major Sturgeon followed me. He's taken a room here."

"Meddlesome devil." He might have been alarmed by this news at some other time, but he had scant interest in Sturgeon just now.

She held him close, but he could feel a change come into her, a dawning awareness of the state of his body, of their entanglement together. He felt her swallow.

"But I thought—you weren't to come back tonight," she whispered.

"Mmmm," he said, nuzzling her face. "Do you want me to go away?"

She let out an unsteady breath, a half-surprised, half-scared f lutter of sound. It made him want to roll her onto her back and take her fiercely, all caution tossed away to the cold night outside.

For a long moment she was silent. He could feel her heart beating, the light touch of her hair falling across his skin.

"I should go," he said reluctantly, when she didn't speak.

Her arms tightened. "No," she said in a small voice. "Stay."