Texas Rose - By Patricia Rice Page 0,124

leaned over her. "I'll have to find a copy for you. There's a scene in there where the hero..." And he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"That's in a book?" she asked incredulously, but the question was strictly rhetorical. Tyler was already showing her what he wanted. She felt the faint rasp of his whiskers against her flesh as he took her breast into his mouth, and she lifted herself completely into his embrace.

"Perhaps I'll find a copy of Fanny Hill for you, too," he murmured against her. "I can remember they tried a variety of interesting places besides a bed. What do you think, Evie? Shall we try a couch next? How about on a ship?"

She didn't know whether it was Tyler's words or the sound of his voice that acted on her like an aphrodisiac. She was on fire all over. The brush of his hair-roughened legs between her thighs made her quiver with excitement The touch of his hand as he flattened it over the mound between her legs drew her attention downward. She knew he was watching her, but she couldn't look away as he covered himself with something and began to probe gently where his fingers played.

And then the feeling swelled and rose up in her, and Evie jerked her head back to meet Tyler's gaze as he entered her. She saw the look of possession in his eyes, the determination, and her heart nearly leapt from her chest. He lifted her hips and slid deeper, and she was beyond awareness of anything at all but thundering earthquakes in her blood.

Tyler took his time. He had been too quick earlier, too savage, and he wanted to savor the sweetness now. He plundered her mouth, paid homage to her breasts, and moved slowly until he felt her breathing quicken again. Then he rocked against her until she cried out and raised her legs of her own accord, taking him deeper, until he could go no more. He set the rhythm then, finding it in his own desperate need, wanting the release and the comfort and the ecstasy only she could offer.

Tyler took Evie's cries into his mouth and drowned them with his own. As his body exploded into hers, it wasn't enough. He knew it wasn't enough. But it was better than anything he had ever known before. He kissed away a tear rolling down her cheek, and let the perspiration between their bodies oil the friction of their skin as he covered her with his weight. He didn't want to move off of her. He didn't want to leave her. But he had to.

Evie moaned a little as he moved away and discarded the sack that had protected her from his seed, but she didn't seem aware of what he was doing. Tyler pulled her into his arms and brushed her hair down over her breast.

"Do you think we can borrow the couch in the lobby next time?" he whispered in her ear.

Evie giggled but didn't reply. She snuggled closer, laying her leg across his.

"Evie, I'm not Ivanhoe," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

"Who did Fanny Hill have?" she asked sleepily.

"A lover who left her to make her own way in the world for the better part of her wicked life." Tyler stared up at the ceiling. The lamp was flickering low and would soon be out. He didn't feel called upon to rise and blow it out.

"Well, when it comes to that, I suppose that's what we all have to do." With dreamy philosophy, Evie curled up against his shoulder and went to sleep.

Tyler lay there a little while longer, his stomach tightening into knots of fear. He had a wife now, and he didn't know what he was going to do with her. He didn't even know if he could protect her. He had made a dismal failure of protecting his loved ones earlier. How much had he improved in years of playing at gambling tables?

Not enough, he feared.

Chapter 32

Tyler watched the sun crossing the windowsill to burnish a strand of auburn in Evie's otherwise dark tresses. Looking down on her face innocent with sleep, he felt seventeen again: nervous, terrified, and proud. He'd thought he'd grown up a little since then, but only on the outside, apparently. Inside, he was still that boy with a frightening job ahead of him.

He leaned over and kissed the corner of her eye. Her lashes fluttered, brushing against his nose, and he kissed

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