She never felt his hesitation before. Tonight she did. She tugged on his hair, a silent demand to be kissed. Then he covered her lips, completely sealing them within his own. A deep sound rumbled through his chest.

This dream was different.

She felt the warmth of his lips and the pressure of his hands, the texture of his hair and the heat of skin. She heard sounds given and returned.

It seemed so real.

His thumb coaxed her chin, and her lips parted as he moved between them. He spent an eternity simply joining their mouths…in every possible way. His tongue, reverent at first, was slow to explore, then became wholly demanding.

She gave in to him completely. In truth, she kissed him back with everything she had. They shared an urgency—taking satisfaction as they’d never been able to before.

She traced her fingers over his face—his broad forehead, straight nose, high cheekbones, his smooth, strong chin—and she pulled him even closer.

My God, it had never felt so good.

She made a sound as he pulled back, a whimper he hushed with slow, passionate kisses over her forehead and cheeks. Then he covered her lips again before tucking her within the crook of his neck. “Sleep, love,” he urged in a murmur. “The morn’s but an hour away.”

Gwen burrowed against him, silent tears wetting her cheeks—oppressive longing crushing her from the inside out.

She’d never heard the sound of his voice.

It would haunt her forever.

It took Gwen thirty seconds to realize something was wrong. Very wrong. Besides the fog filling her head, it was completely dark. She couldn’t open her eyes.

Those were the thoughts that occurred within the first ten seconds.

In the next ten, she became aware of the fact she was one giant bruise, some areas more severe than others. Those were the wrong seconds.

The very wrong were the last ten.

That was when she felt warmth beneath her cheek, breath upon her head, and large hands spanning her back. Holding her with both tenderness and possession. Sure she was fully conscious but affected by an adverse reaction to her IV, she reached for the nurse’s call button. The arms around her tightened, accompanied by a calming whisper.

It was so reassuring, this touch and sound, that she snuggled deeper into the embrace. Indulging in sensations completely foreign to her, she felt safe and protected.

Then she felt panic. My God, she felt fear.

She pushed away with all her strength, scrambling for the edge of the bed, each move hurting more than the last. Each breath she tried desperately to take wasn’t quite deep enough. Those same large hands covered her shoulders, gentle on top of her thick bandages.

Then everything came back at once.

Losing control of the truck. The mudslide as she plunged into the ocean. The explosion of the airbags. Pushing through the window. Jagged glass tearing her skin. Fighting to swim to shore. Wave after relentless wave. Defeat.