Finally. He groaned at the contact, and something slammed into his chest. It took him a moment to realize it was his heart, as he was too busy dealing with the explosion. Sutherland might have lit off one of his pouches of black powder right before his eyes, for that was the shattering effect that hit him when their lips touched for the first time.

He saw stars—literally. It felt as if a tight lid had been pulled off all the emotions, all the anger, and all the restraint that had been bottled inside him—releasing feelings he hadn’t even known were there. He felt wild . . . unharnessed . . . unchained.

For the first time in his life, Alex wasn’t holding anything back. Yet despite the almost frenzied urge to ravish—and the lust pulsing through every inch of his body (in some places more forcefully than others)—an overwhelming sense of peace settled over him. A sense of rightness. A sense of home. It was as if this was the exact place he was meant to be. That this was where he belonged. With her. Holding her in his arms. Kissing her. Cherishing her.

Aye, that was the feeling that surprised him the most. The intensity of emotion that swelled from somewhere deep inside him and made him tread gently where he would have raced wildly, and maybe a little roughly—hell, probably right up against the wall.

Instead he was filled with a surprising wave of tenderness. She loomed so large in his mind—and riled his temper so easily—it was easy to forget how young she was. She was so slight in his arms that he felt an overpowering desire to protect her and keep her safe.

He’d never felt anything like this before and he wanted her to know it. This was—she was—special.

He’d thought about kissing her from almost the first moment he’d seen her. But even in his darkest most erotic fantasies, Alex had never imagined how incredible it would feel. How her body would press against his in all the right places. How she seemed to melt right into him. How he would never want to let her go.

How good she would taste.

So good that he couldn’t seem to get enough. He kissed her again and again, moving his mouth over hers in a gentle, tender wooing. He wanted to linger over every press, every sweep, every little taste.

But her lips were so soft and sweet that the gentle wooing soon gave way to something deeper and more insistent.

He slid his mouth over hers entreatingly, showing her what he wanted, urging her lips to part.

When they did, he growled, feeling a surge of masculine satisfaction that made him pull her a little closer as his tongue delved into her mouth.