His mouth was back on hers, hungry and slow and soft, and bit by bit she let go of his wrist and gasped when she felt his hand teasing around her soft breast. She thought about removing it. It was very intimate. But it was sweet heaven, kissing him, and his fingers were making her body sing a song it had never learned.

But his touch was ghostly. She wanted it where her body ached for it, and all he did was tease around that peaked rise that was desperate to feel it. Involuntarily, her young body twisted up, shivering, as she tried to get it where she wanted it.

And he knew, the beast. He was nice about it, not even snickering when he lifted his head and looked down at her. But he knew.

“You haven’t done this,” he said quietly.

She managed a slow shake of her head.

“Once we start, there’s no going back,” he said, his voice deep and slow. “It’s a beginning.”

Her slight brows slid together.

“You don’t understand.”

She sighed. “Not really,” she confessed in a tone that sounded shaky and weak.

“You will, honey,” he whispered. He bent again, so that his face filled her eyes. It went taut just as his hand slid tenderly over her naked breast and teased the hard peak. “Oh yes, you will.”

It was the last coherent thought she had. Because in seconds, it was like flash fire, like lightning striking. She felt his hands moving the T-shirt up, felt the jolt of his body, so close to hers, as he looked down on her for the first time.

Her eyes opened. She had a quick glimpse of his taut, spellbound face as he studied her pretty, pink-tipped breasts. But then his head moved, and she felt his mouth open and take her soft little breast inside.

She couldn’t have imagined the sound that weened its way out of her throat as he did that.

He laughed helplessly, even in thrall to the passion she kindled in him. He lifted his head. “Shhh,” he whispered. “You’ll raise the house.”

She flushed. “Sorry.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he assured her with a wicked grin. “But it’s not the sort of sound you really want to share with other people...” He grimaced. “Oh damn.”

He sat up, jerked her T-shirt down and threw the sheet and cover over her just seconds before quick footsteps came down the hall.

A dark-haired woman peeked in the door. “Did you remember to get your tea?” Brenda asked a tousled, flushed Clancey. She only barely managed not to burst out laughing, because her brother seemed to be in a similar condition. She was delighted. Poor Grace!

“Yes, thank...you,” Clancey stammered, and blushed even more.

“Yes, she did, and thank you very much, baby sister,” Banks added with a hard glare.

“You’re both very welcome. You going to bed now?” she added.