arrived, and wanted to know more. Since then her curiosity had grown, and now she urgently needed to pursue it to the end. So when the words failed him, and he jerked her towards him with a grunt of frustration, she went into his arms willingly, and sighed with pleasure as his mouth touched hers.
It was he who was tentative, caressing her lightly with his lips, waiting for her response, then embracing her eagerly as he sensed the desire that she had no wish to hide. He’d been almost afraid of taking her by surprise, but now he knew that she’d been waiting for him, ready for this moment.
She was returning his kiss, her lips moving slowly but with determination, teasing and testing him, asking a question which he answered readily. Lightning seemed to streak through her. It was so long since she’d known the physical yearning for release that now it had the delight of the unexpected, as well as the pleasure of anticipation.
Now she knew that the flash of desire-so briefly sensed, so swiftly controlled, that she’d felt on the day months ago when he’d carried her home and their mouths had almost touched-had been no illusion. It had been both a promise and a warning: think carefully before going beyond this point.
She’d had months to think carefully, becoming more confused all the time. But suddenly everything was clear, and from now on there would be no more thinking.
Drago felt her reaching towards him, not just with her mouth but her whole being. He lacked the words to tell her how the hope of this moment had lured and tantalised him through the weary time apart, but movements, tender and urgent together, were saying everything for him.
Then he was laying her gently back against the thick carpet, opening her buttons, pulling her clothes away, dumbstruck as he discovered that she was already naked underneath. His astonishment delighted her, and she gave a slow smile that told him everything, relishing the dawning look of complicity in his eyes.
‘You’re a wicked woman,’ he whispered.
‘Have you only just learned that?’
‘I never know what to think with you.’
‘I could help you find out.’
After that nothing could have held him back. He touched her face with reverent fingers, then let them trail down her neck and onwards between her breasts while she lay trembling with the sensation, so sweet and so long- forgotten.
No, not forgotten: never known. James’s love-making hadn’t been like this. He’d known that she adored him and had accepted it as a right, never looking at her with the feeling bordering on awe that she saw now in Drago’s eyes.
Her nights with James had been physically thrilling, but always with some element missing, because the emotion had been largely on her side. But Drago’s heart was open to her own, filling her with joy, so that she lay back, her arms above her head, luxuriously spreading herself for his delight.
He moved his hands outwards, cupping her breasts in a gesture of tender possessiveness, then lay down so that his face was between them, his lips continuing the work of his fingers while she clasped her hands behind his head and arched up against him.
When he raised his head she began to open his shirt, and he helped her, moving feverishly, as though responding to a signal for which he’d been waiting too long.
When he too was naked, she had one moment of doubt. This was the first man for a year and a half. But, looking into his face, she saw the understanding that had never yet failed her.
‘Me too,’ he said softly. There was no need to say more.
His movements became more urgent. Request became demand. Plea shaded into insistence. His hands explored further, tracing a path on the inside of her thighs, until he reached the heart of her sensation and felt her tremble. In a moment he was over her, seeking, finding. Then he was inside, inviting her to enclose him.
She received him happily, knowing now that this was right in every way, feeling their bodies move together as though they had been made for each other. They were both so eager that their moment came quickly, almost taking them by surprise, before they had time to enjoy the pleasure to the full.
His skill and urgency were driving her on until she arched against him with a cry, and pulled him hard against her while his own release took hold of him. In the last seconds her movements were almost as wild as his own.
Afterwards she held him tightly, feeling him tremble, then grow calmer as the storm passed. He lay against her for a long time before raising himself to look down on her. He looked shaken.
‘Are you all right?’ he whispered.
‘Mmm,’ she murmured contentedly.
‘I didn’t mean to be so-so-’
He fell silent, so clearly embarrassed that she wanted to hug him. He was saying that he hadn’t meant to be so fierce and nearly out of control. But that was what had pleased her most.
‘It’s just fine,’ she assured him. ‘I liked it that you were so-
‘You’re on the floor, and it must be a bit hard.’
‘Not with this lovely thick rug. Still, there are other places-more comfortable.’
He rose, drawing her with him, and they made their way to his room, almost running in their eagerness to throw themselves onto the bed and revel in each other.
It was only a few minutes ago that they had made love, yet the desire was there again, eager and vibrant, so that they laughed with triumph and the joy of being alive and together. This time he cast aside restraint from the first moment, and she gave him a response that was almost violent in its lack of inhibition.
‘What happened to the light?’ she asked as they lay together afterwards. ‘I don’t remember it getting dark.’
‘We were thinking of something else,’ he said.
‘I guess we were. Something much more important.’
‘I wanted you so badly,’ he murmured. ‘But I was afraid in case I spoilt things.’
‘I know,’ she said lazily. ‘We had something so good, I didn’t want to risk it either. But I guess we couldn’t stand still. Maybe this was always waiting for us.’
‘How wise you are!’
He buried his face against her neck, relishing the scent of her.
‘Sweetness and spice,’ he murmured. ‘Adventure and peace. How do you manage to be everything at once?’
‘You’re a poet!’
‘Good grief, no!’ he said, shocked. ‘Oh, I see, you’re laughing at me again.’
‘Just a little,’ she said tenderly. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘I don’t, not any more.’
They lay for a while, half-waking, half-dozing, until he said, ‘Do you remember what I said when we parted at the airport, about being glad we hadn’t met earlier?’
‘Yes, I thought about it a lot, and in the end I knew you were right.’
‘In the end?’
‘I wasn’t quite ready at first. I think I began to see it when you had that accident, and I was so afraid that you might be dead.’
‘I was a bit ahead of you. I felt so close to you that it scared me. The first time I came back to this place, I left at once; it was so empty without you. I meant never to return, but then I found I had to write to you, just to keep some sort of contact. When you replied I came up here again. And you were here too. You’ve been here ever since.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I always knew I was in this place with you.’
‘Did you suffer much when you returned home?’
‘At first, yes. I cried a lot, but even then I knew that it was good to cry. Everything had been trapped inside me for a year, and it was destroying me. Very soon it would have been too late. When I stopped crying I knew that I’d come through it, and since then I’ve got stronger. The world doesn’t frighten me any more.’
‘I don’t believe the world ever frightened you,’ he said wryly. ‘More like the other way around.’
‘That was just the surface. I kept my armour in place to hide my fear. I don’t have to do that any more. What about you? Has anything been better?’
