cabin was premature. Hell, he didn’t even dare take over the kiss for fear he’d mess up and never get her naked beneath him.
But wasn’t he auditioning for the role of lover right now?
She broke contact—something he knew he could not have done—and leaned slightly away. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her eyes glinting in the moonlight as they locked on his. “Have I shocked your ancient warrior sensibilities with my forwardness?”
What the— Shiloh was safely tucked in his bed at home, so why was she still going on with her lie? Except she’d started talking about his former life six days ago, at the campfire. Instead of an airhead, was Katy touched in the head? Surely Maine gave its paramedics mental evaluations before letting them anywhere near people with pointy scissors and sharp need—
Oh. Wait. He got it. Rather than being delusional, Miss MacBain obviously had a thing for sword-wielding mythical warriors from Atlantis. So who was he to rain on her fantasy? Hell, he’d just spent the last five weeks chasing halfway around the world after an angel.
And hey, it could be worse; she could have been into candlestick makers.
Gunnar lowered one hand to the small of her back and his other hand to her head and molded her body to his, then finally fulfilled his five-month-long fantasy by taking possession of her mouth. Her response was immediate and so filled with the promise of passion that he’d swear he felt the ground shift beneath his feet.
Deciding the time had come, Gunnar gathered Katy up in his arms, painful knee be damned, and took her into the cabin. He kissed her as he walked, unable to stand being away from her lips for even a few seconds. She reached up and caressed the back of his neck, her fingertips like white-hot rose petals. His desire surged, and his pace quickened. The sooner he got this woman to his bed, the better.
Laying her down as gracefully as he could manage, Gunnar stepped back and looked at her. As he watched, she loosened her braid and shook out her magnificent hair. His chest tightened, made him feel like he could either look at her or breathe, but not both. How, how, had he ended up with this stunning woman?
As if determined to drive him over the edge, Katy reached down, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt, and pulled it up over her head. Her pink lacy bra, maddeningly demure, accented breasts he was pretty sure didn’t need accenting. With a slow smile, she reached behind her and unhooked the clasp, then slowly pulled the bra up and away.
Gunnar literally felt his body temperature rise, each degree ratcheting his passion into unbearable levels. With a deep groan, he tore off his clothes and lowered himself to the bed. Lining his body perfectly with hers, he gently pressed himself on top of her, the feel of her beneath him more exquisite than he could have imagined.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered and pulled his head up slightly to look directly into her eyes. What he saw stopped his heart.
Beneath him, Katy looked so panicked and desperate his first thought was that his body weight crushed her. “I’m so sorry,” he gasped and rolled to her side. “You probably need to breathe.”
She shook her head, shook it again and again as she scrambled off the bed. “No,” she whispered, one arm shielding her body as she searched the floor for her clothes. “No, no. No, no, no . . .”
“Katy, what is it? I’m sorry.” Concern and confusion played tug-of-war with his body, made him want to reach out and give her space at the same time. He sat up, then sat perfectly still, afraid to do or say anything at all.
“No . . . I’m sorry,” she said, turning away to put on her bra and fight her way into her T-shirt. She turned back to him, shirt inside out and stripes askew, her eyes so full of despair he nearly leapt up and wrapped her in a hug.
But that, he knew—the only thing he knew in this moment—would have been the biggest mistake imaginable. He scooted a little closer to the edge of the bed, so desperate to understand, but she stiffened and ran to the door.
“I’m so sorry, Gunnar,” she said, voice spreading through the room like the clearest, loneliest bell he’d ever heard. And then, before the echo had even faded, she was gone.
He stared at the door, body stiff and