He put his hands on either side of her face and bent to brush her mouth with his. A flame, intense and burning, licked up from low in his belly and up to his chest like a wrenching pain. God help him but he wanted her. He wanted to take her here, right now, on the sofa….

The image of her lying beneath him, open for his pleasure, sent desire throbbing through him, but he knew he had to give her the choice.

Releasing her, Sloan slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Then he took her hand again and placed her palm against his bare chest, over his heart.

“I want you.” His kept his voice low and soft.

She closed her eyes.

With careful deliberation Sloan reached behind Heather to unfasten the tiny buttons at the back of her shirtwaist. When he’d opened most of them, he snagged his fingers around the high collar of the blouse and drew down the fabric. She remained as still as a marble statue, but he could see her pulse beating in the delicate hollow of her throat.

He slipped a long-fingered hand beneath her camisole and corset and gently cupped her bare breast, making her draw a sharp breath at the arousing sensation.

“I want to make love to you, Heather.”

She trembled. Tendrils of panic danced through her mind, but it was edged with desire. If Sloan had tried to force her, she could have resisted. But his touch was the touch of a lover, the caress of a man who wanted to give, not take. Who wanted to please.

“Please let me…” he whispered, echoing her thoughts. When he drew down her camisole and the edge of her corset to expose her bare breasts, she saw the quick tightening of his expression.

“Sloan…”

“Hush, sweetheart.”

Not giving her the chance to deny him, he pressed her back to lie upon the couch. Her hands closed over his shoulders, whether to cling to him or push him away, she wasn’t certain. When he covered her breast with his palm, her body responded with instinctive swiftness, the nipple budding instantly beneath his touch, shooting arrows of excited painfulness deep between her thighs.

Heather drew a long, shuddering breath. “Don’t…”

Yet she couldn’t struggle against him, didn’t want to struggle as he stretched out beside her. She could feel the heat and power that emanated from that hard, magnificent body.

“You really want me to leave you alone?” he murmured, lowering his head to nuzzle a rigid nipple.

Her pulse leapt with desire as his tongue teased her. Her body was aching now, and she moved restlessly against him. When he reached for the hem of her skirts, Heather twisted in halfhearted protest, but Sloan covered her mouth tenderly, seeking to persuade. The sensual pressure was gentle, yet robbed her of breath. She shuddered, breathless and dizzy from the slow intensity of his hot, languorous kisses against her mouth.