Текст книги "A Summer Smile "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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"Take your time." His voice was hoarse, almost guttural, and there was tension about his massive shadow that generated a matching nervousness within her. She couldn't decipher his expression in the dusk, but she could feel his gaze on her. She was suddenly conscious of her partial nudity and had the impulse to scramble hurriedly back into her shirt. How very stupid! She was wearing more than she customarily did on the beach and they were in a situation where practicality, not modesty should prevail. "I wish I had something else to wear," she said with forced cheerfulness.

"I have another shirt in my backpack that you can have." He was moving slowly toward her. "It will probably come down to your knees but at least it's clean." He paused beside her, looming over her like a solid wall. "I'll go and get it."

She shook her head. "Then you won't have anything to wear. I've taken too much from you already.' She tilted her head to gaze up at him. "I'm very grateful, you know. I don't think I told you that."

"I don't want your gratitude." He dropped to his knees beside her. "I'm going to want a hell of a lot of things from you, but gratitude isn't one of them." He laid his rifle on the ground beside him. His fingers were rapidly unbuttoning his shirt and stripping it off. Then he was bending over the creek, delving into the water and scrubbing his face and throat with the energy that characterized his every movement. The bronzed muscles of his shoulders and back were rippling and sliding as he moved, and her gaze clung to him compulsively. He wasn't really handsome by any conventional standard. There was no reason for her to get this breathless and to be unable to look away from him. Virile magnetism and the muscular grace of a Roman gladiator were all he possessed. All? It was more than enough to make her knees go weak and cause her hands to shake so badly that she could hardly hold on to the handkerchief.

He was splashing the cool water on the cloud of furry hair on his chest now, and she could see the water beading his flesh. She had a sudden impulse to lean forward and lick the drops away. The  thought sent a thrill of pure shock through her. Desire.

Despite the assurance of the psychiatrist she'd been seeing every week for the past six years, she had never believed she would experience that particular emotion. Yet how could this primitive yearning be anything else?

She could feel her breasts swell, their peaks hardening in an incredible response. She wanted to cover that response with her hands, but that would have been too revealing an action. She snatched up her shirt instead.

"No!"

Her eyes widened and flew swiftly to his face.

His gaze was on her full breasts veiled only by the sheer lace of the bra she wore. His face was heavy with a sensuality that made her catch her breath. "Not yet," he said huskily. "Come here."

Her tongue moistened her lips. "I don't think that would be a good idea. This situation is so . . . extraordinary that our reactions are a little out of kilter."

"Yours may only be out of kilter, but mine are going crazy." His finger reached out to touch the betraying prominence of one nipple through the lace of her bra. "And I think you're progressing nicely in the same direction."

She flinched back. It was as if she were being stroked with electricity when he touched her so lightly.

He smiled crookedly. "See?" His hands cupped her shoulders gently. "Pretty explosive, isn't it?"

"All the more reason . . ." He was pulling her into his embrace and she was yielding like a bit of metal to a magnet. Why wasn't she struggling? Then she was pressed against the warm hardness of his chest and she forgot about questions. His fiery mat of hair was stroking her woman's softness with flames of sensation. Her head was swimming and she couldn't seem to get her breath. She trustingly rested her cheek against him with a little sigh. "This is a mistake, Daniel. It's too soon. We don't know anything about each other."

"We'll find out everything we need to know." His fingers were tangled in her hair as he pulled her head back to look into her eyes. The expression emanating from his own eyes was grave. "Just a little now. I won't ask more than you want to give." He shook his head ruefully. "Five minutes ago I was promising myself I'd be very cool and patient. Now all I can do is promise I won't throw you down and rape you." He lowered his head slowly. "I want to be so gentle with you, Zilah. I've never felt this way before. I usually like it hard and fast, but not with you." His warm breath was feathering her lips. "I want to savor every touch." The first brush of his lips was so light she scarcely felt it. Then he captured, held, and cherished her. His lips moved, brushed, angled as one caress became a hundred. Taking breath and warmth and yet giving more back than he took.

How lovely, Zilah thought dreamily as her hands moved to caress his shoulders. He was so smooth and warm. So strong to be so gentle. It was all so new. As if each kiss, each touch were being created at this magic moment. How did he manage to create sorcery like that?

"Zilah."

"Hmmm."

"Open your lips, love. I want to taste you." His fingers were combing through her hair with tactile sensuality while he coaxed her lips apart. "Don't you want to taste me too?"

"Yes." She wanted to taste everything about him, touch every part of him, with a hunger that amazed her. Then his tongue was warm on her lips, lazily brushing, before he plunged inside, exploring her teeeth, toying playfully with her tongue. It was an intimacy performed so lovingly that it became surprisingly natural, even comfortable. She almost laughed aloud when that thought filtered through the sensual haze Daniel was weaving about her. How could she be sp aware in every throbbing pore and still think it comfortable, for heaven's sake?

Daniel's hands were fumbling beneath her hair and she felt a sudden loosening. Then he was slipping the straps of her bra off her arms while his lips covered hers. Flesh to flesh, warmth to warmth,

hard muscle against the soft cushion of her breasts.

A wrenching ache began throbbing between her thighs. "Oh, Zilah, isn't this great, love?" He pushed her away to look down at her. "It's getting too dark to

see you, damm it." He gave her a swift, hard kiss. Come on." He was on his feet, his hand grasping hers and pulling her to her feet.

"Where are we going?" she asked, startled.

He draped his discarded shirt around her carefully before picking up his rifle and her bra and blouse. "Back to the cave," he said. "I can't see you in

the dark and I won't risk your neck and mine making love to you out here in the open. "

"Is that what you were doing?" she asked quietly.

"Making love?" He shot her a glance. "You're damn right I was making love to you. If I was just using you sexually you'd know it, Zilah. I'm not very subtle."

She suddenly giggled, feeling ridiculously lightheaded. "Hard and fast?"

"Right." His hand was at her waist, propelling her up the hill. "With lots of fireworks. You'll like it like that, too, I hope, but we'll start out slow and easy."

She stiffened and was silent for a long moment. "I don't think I'm ready for . . . fireworks," she said hesitantly. "This has come as something of a surprise to me."

He didn't answer until they had reached the mouth of the cave. "Like I said, we'll keep it slow and easy. Right now I kind of like the idea of courting you." His grasp tightened on her waist. "Just don't try to shut me out entirely. I couldn't stand it after touching you. I'll do without the Roman candles, but a few firecrackers are required."

She had an idea she would have a difficult time resisting the temptation to touch Daniel as well in the future. "Whatever you say," she said meekly.

He snorted inelegantly. "As long as it's what you want too." His voice became unexpectedly grim. "Honesty, Zilah. There has to be absolute honesty between us. Tell me it's what you want too."

"It's what I want too, Daniel," she said quietly. And it was, she realized with amazement. He had only to touch her and she wanted him so much that it shook her to her foundations. "It's exactly what I

want."

His arm tightened in a quick hug. "That's my girl." He released her and turned away. "Now, why don't you rummage in my backpack to find that clean shirt. I'll go and see what I can do about rustling up some shrubbery to cover the cave opening."

Zilah watched him stride away in a state bordering on bemusement. He had stirred so many responses in her with his vibrant presence that now she felt suddenly cold and a little lost. She gave herself a shake and deliberately turned her eyes away from Daniel's lithe retreating back.

He was a stranger, blast it. She couldn't possibly be so emotionally involved with a stranger. His dynamic vitality and bold, rakish charm had merely captured her imagination. His sexual attraction for her had caught her off guard and she mustn't mistake chemistry for something deeper. A man like Daniel must have eager women standing in line to crawl into his bed. How could she compete with them when she didn't even know if she could respond sexually to any man? Yet Daniel wasn't just any man. She had melted like a snowball tossed into a bonfire when he had touched her—that was the final healing, according to Dr. Melrose. He had been so coolly clin-ical when he had made his recommendation to respond freely if she ever did feel that flare of sexual attraction. The possibility had seemed so remote that she had listened indifferently at the time, but now... What if Daniel were offering her nothing but a physical rapport that might last only a few weeks? If he took from her, he might also be giving more than he could ever imagine. The final healing that would make her a whole woman at last. She dropped to her knees on the ground beside

the backpack, her fingers fumbling at the straps. She instinctively shied away from the realization of what that  healing would bring. She wouldn't think, she would only feel while she was with Daniel. She would flow with the tide. She could rely on him to see that she wouldn't drown in that sea of emotion. There was a warm sensitivity beneath his surface hardness that she intuitively trusted.

She swiftly shed the shirt Daniel had draped around her shoulders and slipped on the blue cotton workshirt from the backpack. It felt crisp and clean against her skin and smelled faintly of lime and tobacco. She rummaged through the backpack. There was bread and cheese wrapped in a cloth, a large battery-operated lantern together with a packet of extra batteries, a white undershirt, a box of ammunition for the rifle, a folded silver-coated sheet, a wicked-looking machete. In all, a very workmanlike, efficient emergency backpack. Like Daniel himself: Practical, lethal, and efficient.

"Pass me that machete, will you?" Daniel asked from behind her. He unslung his rifle and handed it to her in exchange for the machete. "I've found a dead tree we can use. It will take only fifteen or twenty minutes to drag up enough branches to cover the opening."

"May I help?"

"No. you stay here." He turned back as a thought struck him. "Do you know how to use this rifle?"

"I'm pretty good with a Browning automatic. David's father taught me how to shoot at the ranch. I don't know how I'd get along with this one." She made a face. "This is one of those rifles that doubles as a machine-gun, isn't it?"

He nodded. "An M-l. You just adjust the cartridge lever and pull the trigger back." He turned away again. "Keep a sharp eye, Annie Oakley. I'll be back soon."

Three

There was no way the interior of the cave could be made to appear inviting. But with the silvery camping sheet covering the rocky floor and the large utility lantern lit, it wasn't quite as frightening as before.

However,  nothing could take away the air of claustophrobic closeness of the small area.

"Zilah, dammit, where are you?" Daniel's voice outside the cave held both exasperation and a trace of panic.

"In here," she called as she laid out the bread and cheese on the silver sheet. "Dinner is served. Though I'd definitely prefer it al fresco. Are you sure we can't forget about this darn cave and sleep outside? I don't like it."

"I'm sure," he said curtly. He was crawling through the opening and suddenly the cave seemed even smaller. "I've camouflaged the entrance pretty thoroughly. It should be hidden from view unless

someone is right on top of it." He had reached the sheet now and sat down tailor-fashion opposite her. "Can we keep the lantern on? It makes it a little more cheerful."

"For a little while. I brought some spare batteries for it."

"I noticed." She picked up a flat piece of bread and took a bite. It was a little dry but the texture was satisfying. "Are you always so well equipped when you go on one of these assignments?"

"Always. I learned a long time ago you have to be prepared for the unexpected to happen. It usually does." He moved his shoulders as if to shrug off a weight. "God, it's close in here."

"That's what I said, if you'll recall." She took another bite of bread. "I'd be much happier outside."

"But not safer. You're better off here." He picked up a slice of the goat cheese. "We'll just have to forget about it. Talk to me. Did you like living on that ranch in Texas?"

"Oh, yes, it was wonderful," she said softly. "I'd never been to the country before David sent me there. I'd spent my entire childhood with my grandmother in Marasef and knew nothing but city life. I loved the space and the freedom. I could breathe there." Her expression was suddenly alive with eagerness. "And the horses. I loved the horses. Jess gave me the loveliest palomino for my eighteenth birthday. "

"Jess?"

"David's father. He taught me to ride and to rope and ..."

"Where was your David during all this activity?" "In Sedikhan. He and Billie have visited with us a few times since I left Zalandan, but their home is here." The eagerness in her face suddenly faded. "I was telling you the truth, you know. David is my friend, not my lover. Do you believe me?"

"I believe you." His lips twisted. "Maybe because I want to so damn much. You have to admit it's an odd set-up though. How many men would acquire a fourteen-year-old 'protegee' without ulterior motives? Particularly one who looks like you. What did your mother say about his whisking you out of the country?"

"She wasn't happy, but she realized it was for the best." Her eyes dropped to the silver sheet and her words came haltingly. "I was very ill at the time. They thought I'd do better in Texas." "111?"

She nodded. "But I'm well now." She glanced quickly at the uneaten slice of cheese in his hand. “You're not eating. Aren't you hungry?"

"Not very." He picked up the canteen and took a swallow of water. "Being surrounded by walls makes me edgy. It's a little quirk of mine." He offered the canteen to her, and when she shook her head, he recapped it and set it down. "Are you finished?"

"Yes." She was carefully rewrapping the bread and cheese. "I've had enough. Hassan gave me some fruit this morning for breakfast." She frowned worriedly. "You think they're out there searching for indefinitely."

She made a face. "Honesty is all very well, but I could have used a little comforting prevarication at moment."

"Prevarication, no, comfort, yes." He rose to his knees and pulled her swiftly into his arms. "I could K a little comfort myself." His lips were nuzzling at throat. "You feel like velvet and you taste ..." His tongue licked delicately at the pulse in her throat.

'Delicious."

She chuckled. "Is this what you categorize as comfort?" He nipped gently at the soft flesh beneath her chin and she felt an odd throbbing start in the tips of her breasts as if he'd pulled a secret erotic wire. "It doesn't feel very comfortable to me."

"Then you'll have to settle for pleasant." There was a flicker of mischief in the glance he gave her. "You have to admit that this is quite pleasant." His big hands were suddenly cupping her breasts, weighing and toying with them through the cotton of the shirt. She gasped and she could hear him give a low laugh. "Pleasant?"

"Remind me to buy you a dictionary," she whispered. "That's not the right word either."

His index finger was tracing the whorl of her nipple through the shirt, and she could feel herself hardening and peaking more with each circle of that

teasing fingertip.

"It's only a question of comparison. What I'm doing to you now is only pleasant"—his finger inserted itself between the buttons of her shirt with shocking suddenness—"when you compare it to

this."

The touch of his skin against her nipple sent heat rocketing through her. His finger was rubbing back and forth against the naked peak, then began flicking it with a fingernail with every pass. "What word would your dictionary use to describe this, Zilah?"

There weren't any words. She was being jolted by tremors with each tantalizing touch. "Daniel ..."

His navy blue eyes were narrowed with satisfaction on her face. "You like that, don't you? I love that expression on your face; I love to know that what I'm doing is causing it."

Then his hands were rapidly unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it down her arms until it fell to the silver mat. "Ah, that's what I wanted." His eyes were caressing her with the same magic as his hands.

"Lovely. All gold and pink and touched with warmth." He brought her close, rubbing her naked breasts sensually against the cloud of auburn hair on his chest. "My lovely summer girl."

"What?" she asked dazedly.

"Never mind," he muttered. His head was bent, his tongue gently stroking her nipple. She felt a white-hot shiver run through her. His lips closed on her with a strong suction that caused her back to arch and a low cry to break from her throat.

He lifted his head and drew a long, shaky breath.

Dear heaven, I want to be inside you. I want to hear you cry out like that when I come into you and fill you.

I want to move and twist until every part of you belongs to me. To feel you tighten and pull at me."

"Daniel!"

He shook his head as if to clear it. "I think we were pretty close to sending up a few Roman candles." He grinned. "I never did like fooling around with the little stuff."

"I gathered that"—her heart was pounding so nard she could scarcely speak—"from your conversation."

"I told you I wasn't subtle." He suddenly frowned n concern. "I tend to get a bit graphic on occasion.  Did I offend you?"

"No." He had excited her. She drew a shaky breath. "You didn't offend me."

His eyes were narrowed shrewdly on her face. You liked it." He smiled. "And you like me. We fit, don't we, love?"

"Yes, I think perhaps we do." She returned his smile and then her breath abruptly caught in her at as she met his eyes. The world narrowed down  just the two of them in a dark intimacy that glowed

1 all manner of starlike things. She pulled her gaze away with an effort. "I guess I'm not much on subtlety either."

"Lie down."

Her eyes flew to his in surprise.

He smiled slightly and shook his head. "No Roman candles, not even any firecrackers. Just you sleeping in my arms. I think we'd both like that.

Okay?"

She nodded, her throat tight. "Okay." His chest was warm and solid and the soft mat cushioned her naked back as he turned her spoon fashion, his palms lovingly cupping her breasts. Her hair splayed in a silken mass over his upper arm.

Treasured. The word came to her even as weariness flowed over her in an irresistible tide. Desire was still there, smoldering low, but it was that blessed feeling of being treasured that she was most conscious of now. Considering that he was a dangerous man who had exploded into her life with shocking violence, she was astounded that she should feel this way in his arms. Treasured and protected and . . .

She awoke to darkness and the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. Yet what could be wrong? she wondered drowsily. Daniel's arms were still around her, holding her securely, his warm breath feathering her ear. Her forehead knitted in a frown as she realized what was wrong. Daniel's breathing was jerky and labored and his arms around her were shaking. He was trembling as if he were a malaria victim! The panic that thought engendered jolted her wide awake.

"Daniel?" She tried to sit up but his arms were suddenly rigid manacles around her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." The words were jerky, as if they were spoken between clenched teeth. "Go back to sleep."

"There is something wrong," she insisted. "Are you ill?"

He laughed shortly. "If you can call being gutless ill, then I guess I am."

"Gutless? I don't know what you're talking about." Her concern was growing by the second. "Daniel, what's wrong? Dammit, you're scaring me."

He drew a deep breath. "God knows I didn't want to do that. Look, there's nothing to be afraid about. It's just my damn nerves. I told you I didn't like walls around me. I thought I had it under control, but I woke up and there it was gibbering at me in the darkness. Sometimes it happens like that. I'll be all right in a few minutes. Go back to sleep."

"Let me go, Daniel. I'm not going to go meekly back to sleep and leave you like this. I couldn't do that." She felt a slight loosening of his arms and she turned over to face him. Her arms slipped about his waist with an instinctive maternal protectiveness as old as time. "Now, what's wrong? Tell me."

The darkness was complete. It both isolated and bound them together with an unbelievable intimacy. It must be like this floating in space, she thought vaguely as her hands began to soothingly stroke the tense slide of muscles that corded Daniel's back and shoulders.

"Why?" she asked softly. "If you suffer this badly from claustrophobia, why the devil are we here in this cave?"

"I told you why." His lips were buried in her hair, and the words were scarcely audible. He was obviously trying to stifle the trembling that was wracking his body, but an occasional shiver still shook him. There's no way I'm going to make a bad situation riskier because of this damn weakness." He was speaking through set teeth. "It's been years since it happened. I thought I could control it."

"Since what happened?"

"A number of years ago I found myself thrown by a revolutionary group into a sod hut about the size of a postage stamp in the middle of the desert. It was six months before Clancy blew the group and got me out. My nerves were in pretty bad shape, so I left Sedikhan for a few years. I batted around the world for a while as captain of a schooner and then came back to work

for Clancy."

"You were a sea captain?" Zilah's eyes were wide with curiosity.

"There weren't any walls," he said simply. "I needed that."

She felt a rush of sympathy so strong that she couldn't prevent helpless tears from forming in her eyes, and she couldn't speak for a moment without revealing the pity she felt. She hated pity herself and she could see that he detested revealing his weakness. Despite his offhand explanation, those few words had drawn a graphic picture that made her shudder. How terrible it must have been for a man of Daniel's temperament to be caged for that length of time. It was clear he was still feeling the effects even after all these years. Yet he hadn't hesitated to undergo an experience that he knew would be excruciatingly painful just to make life safer for her. "I can see how you would," she said huskily. "But what an idiotic man you are, Daniel Seifert," Her arms tightened instinctively around him. He had stopped shaking, but the muscles of his back and shoulders were rock-hard with tension. Her hands moved over them, trying to massage and release the tautness. "It's all right now. Go to sleep. I won't let you go. I'll hold you until morning."

"Will you?" His laugh held a touch of desperation. "I don't think that would be a very good idea. Not now." She could hear the leaping cadence of his heart beneath her ear, and the hard flesh of his chest was burning her cheek. "I'm not in control at the moment."

"None of us is in control all of the time. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Let me help you," she said softly. "You've done so much for me. I need to give to you too. Let me comfort you, Daniel."

"The kind of comfort I need now isn't the kind you have in mind." His words were muffled in her hair. She could feel his warm breath feathering her ear. "And you don't owe me anything, dammit. How many times do I have to tell you?" His chest was moving unevenly with the heaviness of his breathing.

"Let me go, Zilah."

"No, I want to help you," she said calmly. "Tell me how I can best do that."

"Zilah, for God's sake, shut up," he gritted out through his teeth. "Do I have to spell it out for you? If you don't get away from me in about two minutes I'm going to have your clothes off and be inside you." His hands suddenly cupped her buttocks and brought her forcefully against his hard arousal. "I went to sleep wanting you and woke up with all the barriers down." His words were coming in little gasps as he rubbed her against him with a slow, sensual tempo that caused a hot flowering deep within her. "All I can think of is how you'd feel around me, the way your nipples hardened when my tongue touched them." his hands were clenching and releasing her buttocks as he spoke. She could feel her naked breasts swelling and firming against the hard wall of his chest as if on command. It was a command, she realized hazily, the most basic known to male and female. The soft pelt of hair on his chest was moving against her bare skin with the ragged tempo of his breathing, teasing,

inciting, readying her for the next intimacy. "I want to feel you naked against me, to open your thighs and touch you. I want to make you melt and flow." His teeth suddenly clamped down on the lobe of her ear with a force that was almost painful. "Stop me, dammit," he growled desperately. "Because, God knows, I can't stop myself."

The darkness was swimming around her like ebony waters of forgetfulness where nothing existed but touch and sensation and Daniel's need crying out to her. And not only Daniel's need, she realized with a little shock. She needed him with a fierceness that was as primitive as that first instinctive maternal craving to give comfort. How could that be when . . . The doubts and questions flowed away into the darkness as she felt Daniel tremble against her. Not with fear but with desire. It was like being caught in the funnel of a tornado and being swept away from everything she had ever known. The only things that were real were the sensations Daniel was provoking with every word, every touch.

"I don't think I can stop you either," she said faintly. "I don't think I even want to."

He went still. "Oh, Lord, I wish you hadn't said that."

She hadn't thought the muscles beneath her hands could become harder, but they did. His entire body was gathering charges of tension like lightning about to strike. "I didn't want it to be like this. I wanted to show you that I could be something besides a roughneck who knows only how to take." His hands were suddenly working swiftly, feverishly, at the zipper of her jeans. "I don't even know if I can be gentle with you."

"You don't have to be gentle." It wouldn't matter. Not with Daniel. She wanted to give him whatever he wanted. Fill every need before he asked. He was

stripping away her jeans and the panties beneath them with frantic urgency, and then she was naked in the darkness. His hands were running over her body as if he couldn't get enough of the textures of her. He squeezed the softness of her breasts in his two big hands, then moved down her rib cage in a long, lingering caress. His fingers were hard and cal-lused as they brushed against her softness. Sandpaper and silk. She felt every nerve and pore come alive in a tingling rush as he touched her and then moved on, lingering on her navel to playfully insert a finger while he patted her stomach with the other hand. Then his hand was tangling in the curls that guarded her womanhood, tugging gently. "Open for me," he said thickly. "Please, Zilah. I can't wait anymore. Let me come in."

She didn't think she could wait either. How could darkness so intense hold fingers of flames and curling blossoms of fire that took her breath and made her mindless with pleasure? Her thighs opened with languid invitation that was purely instinctive. Command, response, reward.

Reward. She inhaled sharply as she received a blindingly sensual reward for obedience when his hands touched her with a probing intimacy that sent a shock of desire twisting through her.

"You're so warm and sweet down here," Daniel muttered. "I wish I could see you. I'd light the lantern but I don't think I can wait a minute longer." His finger suddenly found the soft sensual trigger he'd been seeking, and he began a rotating massage that brought a soft cry from her.

Her hips lifted in an offering that was as old as time. His husky laugh held an element of satisfaction. "You want me? Now, Zilah?"

"Now." She could barely get the words past the tightness in her throat. She was on fire. Every breath was difficult to the point of pain. Her head was thrashing back and forth on the slickness of the silver sheet in mindless aching need. Darkness, touch, flame.

"Good." The word held a guttural urgency that was totally male. She was vaguely aware that the touch was gone. Only the darkness, and the throbbing, flaming need remained as Daniel moved with frantic swiftness to strip off the remainder of his clothes.

She was shivering with hunger. Aching with emptiness. She could feel the muscles of her stomach clench and knot, pleading for the touch she had known so briefly.

Then the touch was back, parting her thighs, stroking her gently, opening her with an eagerness that held a hint of restrained savagery. He was between her thighs. The powerful muscles that corded his own thighs were taut against her softness. She couldn't see his bulk looming above her and somehow that only added to the erotic excitement. She could see only in her mind's eye the pelt of auburn hair that covered his chest, the sensual heaviness of his face, the sheer massive size of him that made her feel small and helpless in comparison. She couldn't see him but she could feel him nudging against the heart of her. For an instant there was a flicker of memory that caused her to tense. Then it was gone. Because there wasn't anything in the past that bore the slightest resemblance to what she was experiencing now. New. Everything was new and clean and as basic as if it were happening at the dawn of time. Daniel's magic again.