over James or if he, too, was wrestling with something else. Like that Banyan consulate incident she had just read about in his file. Could it still be tormenting him even fourteen years later?
As if that one thought connected her to him, Amber got nailed with another immobilizing rush. Her mind spinning, she rested her face against the cool glass.
God, he was so alone. She couldn’t stand the thought of him down there, struggling with that aloneness laced with guilt. A terrible ache settled around her heart and she remembered how he’d tenderly carried her after Mayer almost succeeded in running her over. How he had fought his desire even then.
Experiencing another heavy rush, Amber clenched her jaw, her whole body responding to that memory. She was losing it, really losing it. It was almost as if he’d reached out and touched her, caressing her in the most intimate way. She flattened both hands against the glass, her breathing coming in ragged puffs. She could not bear his aloneness. She just could not stand it anymore.
Never in her life had Amber acted on impulse, but she acted on impulse now. Her eyes burning with tears, she snatched up her robe and roughly tied the belt around her waist, a weird kind of anger setting her resolve. She just could not—could not—leave him down there alone. Not Tristan.
Fortified with a crazy kind of determination, she slipped down the stairs, her heart growing larger and more cumbersome with every step, her nerves vibrating so badly that she was shaking. She didn’t have a clue what she was doing. But she didn’t care. One thing she did know for sure—going to Tristan could never be a mistake.
She hit the bottom of the stairs, looking for him in the dim light. Clasping the front of her robe, she turned, the flooring cold against her bare feet.
The full moon cast long milky shadows in the yard, glinting off the snow and, far in the distance, one of the MWTC choppers broke the silence. Her pulse sounding like heavy surf in her ears, she rounded the corner to the kitchen, her insides turning over in a crazy roll when she spotted Tristan.
The kitchen only had curtains, no blinds, and the moonlight draped him like liquid silver. He was standing with his head bowed, both hands clamped on the counter, the coffee carafe filled with water. Dressed only in a pair of blue pajama bottoms, his bare back gleamed in the moonlight, and even in the faint light she could see the awful tension in him.
Her vision blurring with the enormity of her feelings, Amber spoke his name and started toward him.
Tristan abruptly straightened, his body going still. Amber could swear she could feel the tension leaping between them. She didn’t have a plan, hadn’t thought it out, but just when her nerve nearly faltered, Tristan shifted, and she got a good look at his face. Seeing the agony in his eyes, she simply reacted.
Her voice catching on a sob, she spoke his name again, then stepped into his arms, his agony becoming hers.
Another sound was wrenched from her as Tristan crushed her in a hard, fierce embrace, his hand roughly tangling in her loose hair as he jammed her head against him.
Immobilized by the onslaught of need, Amber clung to him, certain she would collapse if he let her go. She had never experienced anything like it—the heavy surging of feeling two halves coming together, the awesome power of two universes colliding, the stunning rush of wanting. It had been too long for her, this push-pull with him. And now it was all too much—too much need, too much unsatisfied hunger, too much raw emotion. Yet not nearly enough. Lord, not nearly enough.
Her breathing out of control, she locked her arms around him, pulling herself flush against him, needing him, needing more.
Hoarsely whispering her name, Tristan backed her into the shadows, then spread his hand wide in her hair and turned her head. His heart pounded in tandem with hers, and he brushed his mouth across hers. The surge of raw sexual energy was like being struck by a lightning bolt.
Her breathing ragged, she lifted herself higher and opened her mouth, needing the heat of him. Tristan shuddered, grinding his mouth against hers as he crushed her even tighter. Body to body, heat to heat, he took her mouth, and Amber yielded everything to him, her need fired higher by his.
Everything she had ever believed about