“I’d say give me five minutes and I’ll be happy to oblige,” he said, and pulled her on top of him so her legs straddled his waist. “I haven’t seen your breasts from this angle.” He reached up to them, lazily playing with one, and then the other, until Alva closed her eyes and moaned.

“There’s something about this part right here,” he said, tracing the undersides with his fingers. “That makes me want to nibble at them until you scream. I wonder how long it would take?”

“An interesting question,” she said, her voice already ragged.

He glanced out the window, noting only a glowing pile of embers remained of the fire. The sky was still dark outside, though—he had some night left. And he was going to use every minute of it.

“Let’s find out,” he said.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Alva watched the night sky turn gray through her frosted window, the first light falling gently on Sam’s sleeping face. She was warm, enfolded in his embrace, and content to watch him sleep. She felt … safe. It was a curious word to use after the night she’d spent. She’d taken a dangerous risk, but somehow … somehow she knew it was going to work out all right.

Perhaps she’d been too extreme, earlier, refusing to even allow a hint of passion in her life. It had made sense after Alain’s death; she’d been so raw then, so suspicious, though there’d been several men willing to engage in a discreet affair, in the traditional French style. She hadn’t been ready. It had taken Sam to show her she was.

Of course, there would be no happy-ever-after here. She acknowledged the pain and let it pass. Eventually he would need to move on. He deserved a proper life, with every wonderful experience it could afford him. He would want to marry, to father children. Alva closed her eyes and took a deep, controlled breath. She would be happy for him, she told herself. But for now, why not enjoy what they had? This passion … she might not be very experienced, but she didn’t think it came along every day. They’d enjoy it together, and when it was done they would part.

The rays of light grew stronger, turning Sam’s skin a pale gold. Her lover, she thought, a ripple of anticipation moving through her body. How sophisticated and debauched she was this morning; she was almost drunk on it.

Finally, she was going to reap the benefits of ruin.

She pressed closer against him, feeling the hard stretch of his body all the way along hers. She arched her back, reveling in the sleepy groan he made and the way his hand traveled down to her hips. Closing her eyes, she did it again, feeling every inch of his hardness. She didn’t think he’d mind waking up for this.