Dear God in heaven, he needed her, but even in his fever to have her he remembered that this was Maggie, not Loretta. Maggie was a virgin, and if he thrust into her too suddenly, too forcefully, he would hurt her.

“Maggie,” he breathed raggedly, his face buried in the sweet softness of her neck, “Maggie.”

Her hands were caressing the taut muscles of his back, soothing his soul and, at the same time, inflaming his flesh. He felt, through the wall of his chest, a soft whimper escape her, and then heard it pass his ear.

Instantly, Reeve lifted himself again, so that no part of him except his lower legs was touching her. “Did I hurt you?” he whispered.

Her soft hair tickled his face as she shook her head back and forth. “No, Reeve—you didn’t hurt me.” Her hands were slipping, light as gossamer, up and down his back again. “Let me hold you. You’re so cold.”

“Strange,” Reeve managed to reply, “I’d swear I have a fever.”

Maggie’s cool hand rose to his forehead, smoothing back the damp hair he’d dried briefly with a cloth before getting into bed. He saw her alabaster brow furrow in the dense darkness. “People die of fever,” she fretted softly.

Reeve felt his heart swell to the point of breaking. “It isn’t that kind of fever, love,” he said.

She was kissing the underside of his jaw; if she didn’t stop soon, Reeve wasn’t going to be able to keep from taking her much longer.

“What else is there to do,” she asked, her lips tracing the length of his neck now, “besides what we did before?”

Unable to answer audibly, Reeve shifted so that his manhood again pressed its length into her soft stomach.

“You want to put that inside me!” Maggie almost crowed in the tone of one who has just had an Olympian revelation.

Reeve covered her mouth with his, even though it was a belated effort. “Be quiet,” he said, and the whisper echoed.

She sent the words back to him on a soft giggle and Reeve was lost. He slid down her body, as far as her breasts, and began the pleasuring that would prepare her for his taking.

Chapter 8

ON SOME LEVEL OF HER MIND, MAGGIE KNEW THAT WHAT took place in the next few minutes might prove to be the worst mistake of her life, but she was unable to act on that knowledge. She had no desire to stop Reeve from feasting at her breasts, no desire to stop him from kissing her shivering middle. And then his mouth was on hers and she could feel his powerful shaft nudging at the portal of her womanhood.

“Are you sure, Maggie?” he asked, just barely inside her.