She stood up and put her fingers lightly over his lips to still them. “It’s not a shower that I need, Alex…nor a doctor.” Her thumb traced the line of his smile and he kissed it, aware of the delicious sweetness from the honey. Green eyes searched brown to determine their mood: then in a second his hand was behind her head and their mouths came softly together.

As long as they’d waited they refused now to hurry. Alex lost himself in her honeyed breath and kissed her languorously before he gently reached down and lifted her small frame up onto his. Her legs wrapped around him easily. Her eyes never strayed from his, and he carried her lightly up the steps. The room was already mildly scented with pine and wood smoke, and he rocked her back, sitting her softly on a thick woolen throw on the bed. They undressed each other without haste, conscious of savoring the moments. He kissed her cheeks and lashes and then leaned down with her onto the soft wool, caressing the contour of her waist and tiny belly. His hands moved reverently upward; and he followed the cruel scar that curved around her left breast, almost from her rib to her collarbone, with sensitive fingers.

Lucy strangled a breath and wanted to cry. “It’s so ugly.”

“No, it’s beautiful,” he countered. “It saved you,” and he traced the stark wound slowly with kisses until his lips and warm breath brushed her throat, and then found her mouth again.

This time their hunger was raw and their passion urgent. Lucy’s senses were screaming for his body heat, the delay now an agony, the pleasure close to pain. “Alex!” She wrenched free long enough for the sound to escape with such longing that he swept his hand firmly from her breast to her hip; then hearing his name again he lifted her slightly and pulled himself inside her. Their breath escaped in a rush together.