Deeper than the Night - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,48

you don't want to wait."

After a late lunch, they set about cleaning up the mess in the cavern's main room. Kara glanced at Alex, awed by the strength the man possessed. The table and chair had been smashed beyond repair; the sofa had been ripped apart as if it had been made of toothpicks instead of solid wood and leather. The only item not completely destroyed was the bookcase. She shuddered to think of his rage turned against a living creature.

She saw Alex go suddenly still and knew that he had divined her thoughts.

"You needn't be afraid of me, Kara," he said quietly. "I would never harm you. You must believe that if you believe nothing else."

"I'm not afraid of you, Alex. Youmust believe that." She smiled at him. "I've rarely seen you during the day time."

Alex grunted softly. "Unlike your vampires, I am not compelled to sleep during the day. I need only stay out of your sun."

Their gazes held for several seconds, both thinking of the night to come, and then they turned back to the task at hand.

When they finished cleaning up the debris, there was nothing left in the cavern's main room save for the bookcaseand the bear rug.

Kara glanced at the empty bookcase, at the pile of ashes in the hearth. "I'm sorry about your books."

"It doesn't matter."

Kara felt the pull of his gaze, felt her heart begin to beat faster as he moved slowly toward her. Energy pulsed between them, throbbing in time to the beat of her heart. Warmth engulfed her; she felt herself drowning in the fathomless depths of his ebony-hued gaze.

A low groan escaped his lips as he drew her into his arms. "I've been fighting the urge to hold you all day," he said, his voice low and sandpaper rough. He rained kisses over her cheeks, her eyelids, the delicate curve of her throat. "Tell me to stop, Kara. Tell me how dangerous it is for us to be together."

"We've got to stop," she said agreeably, but her arms wrapped around his neck and her body molded itself to his until she could feel his heartbeat pounding in rhythm with hers.

"Yes," he said, his voice like a hot wind against her throat. "We've got to stop."

Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the hearth and placed her on the rug, then followed her down to the floor. "Kara, natayah ... do you know how desperately I need you?"

"I know." She brushed a lock of hair from his face, traced the shape of his mouth with her fingertips.

"Make me stop, Kara. I can't do it on my own. I've wanted you too long, waited too long . . ."

His gaze burned into hers, hotter than the sun at noonday, brighter than the tail of a comet.

"Push me away," he said, "now, before it's too late. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

"You don't know that. You don't know what I'm capable of."

"I'm not afraid." Kara pressed herself closer, felt the very real evidence of his desire. His need inflamed her own and she moaned softly as she writhed beneath him, silently begging him to satisfy the sweet desire he had stirred within her.

Alex stared deep into her eyes, the hunger for her flesh pulsing through him. She was his woman now, and he burned with the knowledge that she was his, that he could hold her and touch her. And with that knowledge came the fear that he might do her harm, that he would take and take until he had drained her of energy, of life itself. Not that he would deliberately harm her, but sometimes, caught up in the heat of passion, he forgot how fragile these earth creatures were, how weak their hold on life, how easily they broke in his hands.

"Alex . . ."

With a muttered curse, he looked away, breaking eye contact. As much as he wanted her, needed her, he would not take her, not without the means to prevent conception. To his knowledge, none of his race had ever mated with an earthling. In his brief encounters with other women, he had always used a contraceptive to ensure that no pregnancy would result. He had no idea if he could father a child with an earth woman, or what the consequences to Kara might be should his seed take root within her womb.

The thought of hurting her cooled his ardor and gave him the strength to draw away. Her cry of protest