The liquid tremors went on and on and on. In the harsh aftermath she lay struggling for breath in his arms. She could smell the hot musk of his arousal, feel the warm wetness of tears on her cheeks from the tumultuous force of their lovemaking.

When finally he raised his head to gaze down at her, Heather averted her face, unable to meet his gaze. More disturbing than the heat and intensity of those ice-blue eyes was the aching knowledge deep in her heart.

She could love this man, this moody, powerful man with his hard eyes and tender hands. But love was no part of their bargain. She would have to settle for hot, blinding pleasure, for that was all Sloan would give her.

He woke slowly, his body alive with desire. The bedroom was bright and warm with sunrise. Still sleeping, Heather was curled into the curve of his thighs, her warm, soft fanny pressed against his groin, making his morning erection that much harder.

He pressed his mouth against the pale mass of her burnished hair, his lungs filled with the rich, tormenting scent. His hand stole beneath the covers to cup a lush bare breast. A sensual sigh escaped her lips as she stirred, but she didn’t awaken.

Fierce impatience seized him. He was hard and ready for her. His blood surging thick and hot, Sloan caught her hips and eased between her thighs from behind, pushing inside her before she’d managed to come fully awake. She moaned helplessly and arched her back.

Driven by a savage, nameless hunger, he found his pleasure and took Heather along for the wild ride.

It was long moments later before she roused from the incredible dream she’d been having, feeling limp as if drugged, her limbs heavy, her body replete. Sloan was at her back. She lay unmoving, savoring his heat, the incredible lean toughness of his body, the work-hardened hands that were still stroking her skin.

“Morning.” His early-morning voice was dark and rough as he whispered in her ear.

Her eyes opened slowly as awareness returned. Heather flushed, remembering the carnal excesses of last night. He’d made love to her over and over again, and each time the pleasure had intensified. Her own behavior was shameful. She’d rutted, lain beneath Sloan and begged him. And this morning, she’d let him….

She glanced in puzzlement at the bright sunshine streaming in the window. “It’s daylight.”

“So it is.”

She turned over to face him. Sloan felt his breath catch at her beauty. She looked soft and sleep-rumpled and sensual enough to eat.

“It’s late… Shouldn’t you be leaving for the range?”

He shrugged. “The boys won’t wait for me. I told them I’d be up at the house all day.”

“All day?” She flushed again. “They’ll know what… we … you …”