Slowly, gently, he touched her, massaging lightly, kneading. His fingertips teased her nipples to hard aching peaks, then circled. Fondled.

It felt as if her insides were the epicenter of an earthquake, and she whimpered.

He stilled, studying her for a long minute. “We’ll go no further than this tonight.”

She managed a nod, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed. Both, really.

“No further.” A glint of heat appeared in his eyes. “So I’ll enjoy the hell out of this much.”

His thumb slowly circled one nipple, sending a stream of molten heat to her pelvis.

Over the next hour, he played with her, simply and obviously enjoying himself. Over and over, she’d get so very aroused, and then her desire would fade as ugly memories surged up.

And he’d smile and change his technique and drive her up again. Gently, sweetly, and so very patiently.

Finally, he brushed the hair away from her face. “Time to stop. You need sleep.”

As if she’d sleep now, with her breasts swollen and her clit throbbing. At her snort of exasperation, his grin flashed.

He lifted her off of him and rose, then held her pajama shirt for her to put on. As he fastened button after button, his knuckles brushed the insides of her breasts.

She tried to suppress a moan and only half succeeded. The sound of his very male chuckle made her toes curl.

He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Come and lock the door.”

When he was on the deck, he turned and held her chin, bending to kiss her slowly. Tenderly. Pushing her back inside, he closed the door. She could see him through the small window, waiting, arms crossed, for her to engage the lock.

When she did, he nodded. His footsteps sounded firm and solid as he strode off the deck.

Hers didn’t. She was so full of happy bubbles, her feet might not have even touched the stairs. She simply floated up.

Chapter Twenty-One

Our most basic instinct is not for survival but for family. ~ Paul Pearsall

The results were in, and even hours later, Audrey wanted to dance and shout…and then maybe hide for a while. Talk about erratic emotions.

Settle down, Audrey. She was good at appearing calm—she’d certainly had more than adequate practice as a child.

Tipping her head back, she enjoyed the feel of the sun on her face. After two days of rain, she was ready for warm and dry.

“We’re here,” Gabe called from in front of her. On the still-damp trail behind her, the others responded with cheers. Everyone at the Hermitage had decided the Sunday activity would be berry picking. But she hadn’t expected quite such a climb.