“Are you certain?” she asked thickly as Sloan untied the ribbons of her bonnet and slipped it from her head.

“More certain than anything in my life.”

With a tenderness he’d long denied, he raised her hand and kissed the cup of her palm, then placed it against his chest so she could feel the tempo of his heartbeat. Her lips parted in a breathless murmur of sound.

When she remained mute, Sloan took her face in his hands. “I love you, Heather.” His breath was a raw whisper. “And I mean to spend the rest of my days proving it to you.”

The aching tenderness in his voice reassured her, as did his gaze. She was mesmerized by the emotions playing in his eyes, the love softening his features.

The rugged planes sharpened in intensity as he bent his head and claimed her mouth, yet his kiss was so gentle, so searing, it scalded her heart. His breath filled her, warming her, stealing her soul.

His low murmur of laughter afterward suggested he had felt the same enchantment.

They undressed each other, slowly, intimately, lingering over the simple pleasure of touching. There was no hurry. They had forever. They savored this time together, the familiarity, the inexplicable newness of the moment, their hands searching each other with wonder and tender hunger.

Sloan caught his breath when Heather stood naked before him. Her pale-gold hair fell in rich, deep ripples over her shoulders and down her back—the way it had in his first dream of her.

But she was no dream this time. She was gloriously real. His dream lover in the flesh. She was, he thought, drinking her in, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen or ever would see. She was strength, she was courage. She was joy and triumph. She was his heart.

Longing filled him, as strong, as desperate as the need to breathe.

“I dreamed about you, did you know that?” he said softly. “Before I ever knew you. You haunted me even then.”

Her answering smile was so lovely it made his heart ache.

Needing to touch her, he stepped closer. He wanted to fill his hands with her, to feel her delicate shiver, to hear her uneven breath. He wanted to see wonder and blind pleasure in her eyes. He wanted to see love and trust. He wanted to heal the hurt he had given her….

Only touch could convey his repentance. Reaching for her, Sloan enfolded her in his arms. He felt the sigh whisper through her body as she stood contentedly in his embrace.

“Do you feel the same fire I feel?” he murmured as his hands came up to caress her naked back.

“Yes.”

“It’s been like this since the first moment I saw you.” Quietly, Sloan drew back. “I’m sorry I never told you how much you meant to me.”

Reaching up, she touched her fingers to his lips. “Hush … no regrets. Not now.”