He took hold of the skirt of her nightdress. Finding her lips, he kissed her as he slowly gathered it in his hands.
She smiled, the movement tickling him. She lightly bit his bottom lip before soothing it with her tongue and intensifying the kiss between them. Her lower body was naked and pressed against him, his arousal against her flat belly.
A growl of desire rose in his throat. He sucked hard on her tongue and released the kiss. He raised the nightdress over her head. She made it easy for him by holding her arms up. The room’s wan light highlighted her glorious breasts with their dark points and Bran was undone.
He threw the nightgown aside, hungry for her. Her core against him was hot and wet.
Fifteen years had passed. Fifteen years of nursing hurt and resentment. He did not want to waste a second more.
From the moment Brandon had lifted her up in his arms, Kate felt as if she was in a dream.
She was tired of living with the ghosts of her past. Tired of being the responsible one. Tired of protecting herself.
Years ago, she’d believed herself in love with this man. He’d loomed large in her life even during their years apart—either as a shameful memory or the focus for her anger. To realize that she had been wrong about him, that he hadcared? If the sun had suddenly shone in the middle of the night, it could not be a greater miracle.
His arms felt good around her. Solid.Thisshe remembered. She’d been safe with Brandon. There had been a wholeness to this act between them that had once made the world exactly right, and she yearned to experience it again.
Their kiss took on a stronger purpose. His hand rested on her hip, its stillness an assurance that he waited for a sign from her.
Yes, this was the lover she remembered, and she lowered herself to the mattress, bringing him with her.
Back then, Brandon had been gentle and somewhat clumsy—as she had been herself. Neither one of them had really known what they were doing, she realized.
Her braid was caught beneath her. She turned her head and pulled it out. He stretched his body beside her and traced her jaw with one hand.
“You haven’t changed,” he whispered. “You are as lovely as when I first saw you. You were Juliette on the stage and I was lost.”
She rolled on her side, the better to confront him. “You’ve changed.” She ran her hand over his shoulder. “You are stronger, bigger...” She drew her hand down along his waistline to his hip. “They are all good changes.”
His answer was to kiss her as if breathing her in. He rose above her, guiding her onto her back. His weight settled upon her.
Ah, yes, this she remembered. They fit together, especially when she bent her legs and cradled his hips between her thighs. Her hand smoothed over his buttocks. The heat of him was pressed against her—
And she found herself struggling to breathe.
Every muscle inside of her tensed. His weight that had seemed comforting, now threatened to suffocate her.
Kate lifted her hips to buck him off, suddenly not wanting anything to do with him.
Brandon moved off of her. “Is something the matter? Kate?”
She scrambled to sit up and crawled backward toward the headboard. Leaning against it, she willed herself to calm down, her hand covering her mouth. “I don’t know. I don’t know...” She looked wildly toward him. His face was in the shadows. “I can’t see you. Brandon, I can’t see.”
“It is all right,” he said soothingly. “Let me light a candle.”
She closed her eyes. She heard a scratching noise on a bedside table. There was silence, and then the sound of flint being struck.
“I’ve lit the candle. Stay here.”
She nodded, not opening her eyes. The mattress dipped as he rose. Her breathing grew normal. She didn’t understand what had come over her. The intensity of what could only be described as fear overwhelmed her. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
The candlelit room was sparsely furnished. There was the bed and a washstand. There were no chests or cabinets for clothes. It was almost as if no one lived here.
Steps sounded in the hall. Brandon appeared in the doorway. He held a glass in his hand. He wore his breeches and nothing else and she was very conscious that she was naked. She reached for the bedspread to cover herself, tucking the coverlet up and around her breasts.
He made no remark. Instead, he walked to her side of the bed. He sat on the edge and offered her a glass of dark liquid. “Have a drink.”
“What is it?”
