He pulled her more tightly against him, higher within his arms. And as
she watched him, fascinated, in the glow of the moonbeams, his lips
parted upon hers, and the world seemed to explode as his kiss entered
into her.
Darkness swirled around her, and sensation took flight. She had to get
away from him. and quickly.
No. she had to stay. She was where she wanted to be. Exactly where she
wanted to be.
Chapter Eight.
He carried her, in the moonlit night, to the barn. He entered it and
laid her, in her cocoon of covers, in the rear of the building, where
soft alfalfa lay freed from its bales, ready to be tossed to the horses.
The smell of the hay was sweet, almost intoxicating.
He lay down beside her and brought the back of his hand against her
cheek, touching the length of it, as if he studied just her cheek and
found the form and texture both beautiful and fascinating. Then his
finger roamed over the damp fullness of her lip. He watched the movement
as he touched her, then his eyes met hers. She could still feel, in her
memo~j, in the pulse that seemed to beat throughout her, the touch of
his lips against hers. And yet when he kissed her again, though the feel
was poignant, she knew that he would move away when he did.
He lay back against the hay, staring at the rafters and the ceiling.
He groaned softly, then rolled suddenly, violently, to face her again.
He didn't touch her, but leaned on an elbow to stare at her
reproachfully.
'You couldn't have just arranged a room, for me, huh?'
'You couldn't have just stuck around for a while, huh?' ahe retorted.
He was ruining it, dissolving the moonbeams, destroying the moment she
had imagined and waited for.
He rolled on his back again.
'Go to your room,' he told her.
'I had no right to drag you out here.'
Tess leaped to her feet, her cheeks flaming, her body and soul in
torment.
She stared at him furiously.
'You have no right to do what you're doing now! To ruin everything!'
'To ruin everything?' He scowled.
'Tess! I'm trying damned hard to do the decent thing!' And she would
never know what an effort it was taking. He felt on fire, as if he
burned in a thousand hells. It had been all right before he touched her,
before he felt her lips parting beneath his.
Before he sensed her innocence and the sweet wildness beneath it, the
passion, the sensuality that simmered and swept beneath it all, that
promised heaven. She was different. He wasn't sure if he dared take her
all the way, because he knew it would mean fragile ties that might bind
him forever. He couldn't find a simple fascination in her beauty; it
would be more, and though he couldn't begin to define it, it was there.
He already slept with dreams of her haunting his mind; he never forgot
for a moment the way she had looked upon the rock, as naked as Eve, as
