hint of firm breast displayed to such advantage by the knot of her blouse—to the angular plane of her hip and along the slender but dancer-shapely length of her long legs.
A bird chirped somewhere in the branches above them, but Sloan was barely aware of its cheerful cry. It was part of the hypnotism this man was exuding, part of the compelling aura that seemed to make an island of the glen, an isolated place of beauty where all that was real was the shelter of the friendly pines, the encouraging whisper of the breeze, the soft, earthy bed of green and brown, and—the dynamically handsome man who lay before her, emanating an undeniable virility.
He dropped the blade of grass he had been idly chewing and stretched a tanned finger to outline the softness of her lips. They trembled at his touch and parted, and the finger went on to rub gently the edge of her teeth as he watched, fascinated. A shudder ripped through Sloan, one of such abject longing that it left her shocked by its vehemence and quivering in its wake. But still he didn’t reach for her, but spoke instead, and his voice was part of the breeze, a whisper as compelling and hypnotic as his piercing sea-jade eyes.
“You’re exquisite,” he said. “Incredibly beautiful,” and his eyes were still locked with hers; his finger still touched her lips. His head moved toward hers until it was just an inch away, and he murmured, “I want you to know that my intentions are entirely honorable.”
“What?” Sloan mumbled, confused and deep within the spell of the moment. She knew she should be listening; she should be talking; she should be coyly denying his touch. But all her scheming seemed worlds away. There was something else at stake, but she couldn’t remember what. A pulse was beating erratically through her system. Her veins felt as if they were composed of a silvery liquid which raced like mercury in response to the simple feel of his finger; her nerves were so vibrantly alive that she could feel every touch of the gentle breeze, every blade of grass that brushed her skin. Her whole body was crying out, silently pleading for the excruciating pleasure of the muscle-rippled bronzed arms which must surely take her into their demanding security soon.
And they finally did, like lightning. A powerful hand crushed her lithe softness to his lean hardness as he groaned. “I’m crazy about you,” he murmured huskily. “I always have been, and you’re more beautiful than ever...” He intended to say more, but the moist, inviting lips parted tantalizingly before him were too much. He kissed her, nibbling her lower lip, probing with tender but firm command until she moaned and fell entirely acquiescent to his seduction of her mouth. Then the kiss became wild and passionate, and everything was forgotten and unreal as she strained against him, a willing prisoner of the all-encompassing, delightfully sensual sensations he was arousing. His lips left hers to create a burning trail along the sensitive flesh of her neck and down to the partially exposed mounds of her breasts; the unhurried, assured exploration of his hands sought her intimately, discovering the lean muscles of a thigh, delighting in the slender slope of a hip, creating an inferno of yearning along the bare flesh of her midriff. His seeking moved upward so that he might cradle the lushness of her breasts, and she made no protest as he fumbled with the annoying knot that kept material between his pleasure-giving hands and the rosy nipples which were hardening, demanding to be touched. She was, in fact, too deliriously busy herself, exhilarating in the feel of the crisp, dark hair that fringed his collar, stroking the tensed muscles that rippled and heated beneath his shirt as her hands and fingers feathered and caressed them. His breathing, she noted with vague, sensuous pleasure, was as ragged as hers; their hearts seemed to pound together in a furious, deafening roar, and even the pines that cushioned them seemed to disappear. All that she was aware of was him—the weight of his hard, lean form pressing into her soft one, molding her to him, demanding and giving. The knot finally gave; his hot kisses came to her breasts as they fell like exotic fruits to his hands. His thumb, gentle but ever so slightly rough, taunted one ripe-hard nipple while his teeth reverently grazed the other, and a sob of sheer, exquisite