He kissed the shell of her ear. "I wanted to feel you, skin to skin. I wanted your warmth tonight. Is that okay?"

"Yes, but you never—"

"I'm just fine," he murmured. "Better than I've been in a long while and that pisses me off a little, that's all. Get some sleep, Claire. Tomorrow the other witches will get here and this place will melt into chaos."

Despite herself, the warmth of his body, the low rumbling sound of his voice and her own fatigue were too much for her to fight. Her eyelids drooped and she relaxed into sleep within the circle of his protective arms.

The sweet flavor of her sttll lay on

tongue. It was just an appetizer and he wanted the full course.

She'd come so sweetly for him, just the way he'd imagined she would.

Adam had come close to dropping his jeans right there and sliding his rigid cock into the hot velvet clasp of her sex. He still couldn't believe that he hadn't done it. She'd been there, beautiful, wanting him, her sex willing and spread for him… and he'd resisted.

Sex with Claire still felt like it would make him unfaithful.

He couldn't put a finger on why Claire was different, but she was. His feelings for her on all levels were intense. As intense, maybe even more so, than they'd been for Eliza. And that was just wrong. There could never be another Eliza.

Adam had to wait until this strange, intense attraction he had for Claire faded. He just hoped it faded before he exploded from sexual need. Jacking off in the shower was becoming very unsatisfying.

Once that intenseness was gone, he could fuck Claire without feeling like he was cheating emotionally on his dead wife.

"Hell," he muttered into the night, disturbing the soft tendrils of Claire's dark curling hair. "I really am insane."

Maybe so, but he owed Eliza that much. More.

Adam woke tangled in Claire Her long, slim

leg had somehow inserted itself between his thighs during the night. Her cheek pressed to his chest and the silky tendrils of her hair brushed his lips.

He ran his hand up her arm as his eyelids opened, over her smooth, sleep-warmed skin, and she murmured something incoherent, nuzzling his pectoral.

Arousal gripped him like a vise. He became painfully aware of the state of his cock, hard and wanting the woman whose limbs were currently intertwined with his.

She wasn't wearing any underwear.

If he rolled her to her back, tugged her beneath his body, spread her thighs with his knee, would she protest? If he slid his cock deep into her sleep-hot sex, would she sigh and moan for him? If last night had been any indication, Claire would welcome anything he did to her.

And he'd dreamt of her again.