the time. You just let me be. That’s a rare gift. You’re a rare gift.”
His thumb slid over her lower lip, a barely there caress, but it was intense and intimate, just like every touch with Sam. Maybe she fell so hard for him because Sam knew who she really was, not the mask she hid behind, that person she’d created. He knew all of her, even the panicky, ugly parts, and he seemed to accept those in her.
She didn’t know who leaned first. It could have been her. He was that compelling. The next thing she knew, she was on her feet, her body tight against his, her mouth welded to his, his hand on the back of her head, holding her still while fire flared bright and hot and out of control.
No one had ever kissed her like Sam. The world disappeared and the only anchor she had was her fists clutching his shirt. There was something beautiful and surreal that went with that rush of fire, every nerve ending in her body responding to him, coming alive for him. She was alive. The real Stella. Little sparks of electricity seemed to leap all over her skin to arc over his and jump back to her. She felt the pull of him. The way her body went boneless and she seemed to melt into him because the fire had gone that hot.
Sam lifted his head first, his arms steadying her. “Let’s take this inside before we can’t stop, Stella.”
She wasn’t altogether certain she could walk on her wobbly legs, but then she didn’t need to. He just swept her up easily, cradled her against his chest and carried her inside. Stella wasn’t certain if she actually floated into the bedroom or he really carried her, but she did know there was a fire roaring in the pit of her stomach and molten lava rushing through her veins by the time he set her down. Her hands were desperately trying to find the hem of his T-shirt to pull it off him. She needed skin-to-skin contact. He was always so warm. Hot. A raging fire to match the one inside her.
Then she had what she wanted— what she needed. Just the two of them. Finally. She should have known he was just the way he was outside the bedroom. In charge. Patient. Skilled. Generous. Demanding. He believed in burning slow and raging fiery hot. He was intense and thorough and very Sam. He didn’t say a lot verbally, it was all with his body, and he was very good at talking that way. And he said everything she needed and wanted him to say and more.
STELLA LEANED ON the railing and stared out over the lake. Bailey, the treacherous dog, was with Sam, which didn’t really surprise her. She should be happy that Sam walked the property so much, making certain drunken partygoers didn’t fall into the lake and drown. He didn’t let them take out guns and shoot at the sky in some bizarre celebration.
Sam didn’t like dealing with the guests but he could repair anything. He would never see to the taxes or business end of the resort, but he would make certain security was tight and everything was running in top condition. If the roads needed plowing, Sam would get it done. She had come to rely on him in a short time without even realizing it.
She had always loved the night and never felt in the least bit nervous or anxious when she was alone until her nightmare had woken her. Sam had helped alleviate that, but for some reason, she felt a sudden chill go down her spine and goose bumps rose all over. It felt the same as at the fishing spot, when she thought someone was watching.
Straightening slowly, Stella walked to the stairs and whistled for Bailey. He would come to her the moment he heard that whistle no matter what. She’d just feel safer knowing he was close. She inched her way into the shadows, wishing she’d brought out her night binoculars. She didn’t have the porch light on, but that didn’t mean if someone was out there they wouldn’t see her even in the dark. They could have night-vision binoculars just as easily as she could.
She waited, growing more and more uneasy. The minutes seemed to creep by slowly. If there was really someone out there, Sam would know. He had some kind of sixth sense about that kind of