Elle had never considered herself beautiful—for so long she’d always looked different, with her bright copper hair and long ringlets. Growing up she’d just wanted to look like everyone else, with brown or blonde hair that hung straight and behaved itself, not the riot of curls that did whatever they felt like doing on any given day and tiny freckles that covered her skin like a tan. As she’d got older, she’d grown into her freckles and didn’t notice them as much. Gran had always told her they were unique, and that she carried the genes of her ancestors, but there were times she’d wished she looked a little more boring, and not so unique for Jessup’s Creek.

Now, though—here, with this man staring down at her as if she were some precious gem sent from the gods—she was glad for whatever genes she’d been passed.

The fire Stuart had made earlier cast a gentle glow over their bodies, and as their lips met once more, she felt a roar of heat rush through her veins.

Sliding a leg along his, Elle tipped her head back with a low groan as his lips trailed hot, slow kisses down along the sensitive skin and a quiver of desire ran through her as he worked magic with his hands and lips upon her body long into the evening.

TWENTY-ONE

Twenty-one

The fire popped and crackled as Elle lay with her head on Stuart’s chest, feeling content as she watched the red flames dance lazily in the open fireplace.

She couldn’t recall ever feeling this relaxed in the presence of a man, and she was trying to work out the reason why.

‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’ Stuart’s deep voice rumbled through his chest against her ear after a while.

Her fingers stilled from their lazy circling through the hairs on his chest. ‘What makes you think there’s anything going on?’ she murmured lightly.

‘Because I can practically feel your mind working overtime.’

Slowly Elle lifted her head and looked up at him, folding her hands beneath her chin. ‘Maybe I’m just going over your performance to see where improvements could be made,’ she said with a grin.

‘Now, we both know that’s not true. It was faultless,’ he said without any modesty at all.

Elle chuckled at his slow, smug grin and had to admit, he could be right. It was pretty damn good.

‘So, truly, what are you thinking about?’

‘I’m wondering how this could possibly feel as comfortable as it does when we’re practically strangers.’

Stuart made a deep sound once more, which felt a lot like agreement. She was getting the hang of decoding his grunts. He used them in a variety of situations and they all had a different meaning depending on the occasion.