He’d wanted to bring her there before. He’d imagined it. How he would slowly, patiently, show her the pleasures of loving. Shaking off the mood, he drew her closer. This was a different day, and a different woman. “Are you warm enough?”

“Hmmm. But I . . .” she trailed off, knowing she’d sound foolish.

“But?”

“Well, I’ve never—” How to phrase it? “I’ve never lain naked in the grass under the sun before.”

He laughed, not even realizing that the tone and the feeling behind it had come from the woman he’d first known. “Life should always include new experiences.”

“I’m sure you’ve found yourself naked in all manner of unusual places.”

The dry voice delighted him. Rolling over, he pressed a kiss to her mouth then drew back just to look at her. Her hair was fanned out over the dark grass. The tiny white flower was tangled in it as though it had grown there. Bruising shadows under her eyes made her look both wanton and delicate, as though she were a virgin who’d just spent a night being initiated into womanhood.

This was how he had once imagined her, how he had once wanted, how he had once loved.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She smiled, relaxed enough to be amused. “Now that I’ve never been.”

He traced a fingertip along her cheekbone. “How unobservant of you, Hannah. Or how foolish. Making yourself look less attractive doesn’t change the truth. Flawless skin.” He traced his lips over it as if to taste. “These elegant bones that make a man wonder if you’re made of flesh and bone or glass. Those calm, intelligent eyes that drove me mad wondering how they might darken and cloud if I could find the right way to touch you. And this.” He rubbed a finger over her lips. “So soft, so generous.” He lowered his head but only traced the shape with his tongue. “Do you remember the first time I kissed you?”

Her breath was already shaking, her eyes already closing. “Yes. I remember.”

“I wondered how it was that such a quiet woman could make my knees weak with just a taste.”

“Kiss me now,” she demanded and drew him down to her.

It wasn’t what she expected. There was tenderness instead of passion, patience rather than urgency. She murmured against his mouth in confusion. Bennett only stroked his fingers over her face and waited for her to relax. More, he waited for her to accept. Even when he deepened the kiss it remained gentle. The fire was there but smoldering rather than blazing.

He was making love to the Hannah he’d understood, she realized and wanted to weep. There was lust for one, affection for the other. How could she fight another woman when the woman was herself?

On a trembling sigh, she let her mind empty. She would give him whatever it was he needed today.