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He touched her hair. In the warm air it was slowly drying into wild, untamed waves and even a few curls over her head. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm just worried about you. I tend to react with . . ." he trailed off.

"Arrogance? Anger?" she suggested.

"Maybe both. When I can't control something I probably react with anger, although honestly, it's buried so deep I'm never certain if that's what I'm really feeling. Anger is an emotion we're not allowed for many reasons. It isn't safe."

"This school you attended was pretty messed up, Maxim." She took another bite of the burrito and chewed thoughtfully. "Everyone feels anger once in a while. It isn't healthy to keep it buried."

"My anger would be like unleashing a volcano, and that wouldn't be good for anyone."

He watched her swallow the small bit of food, and for some inexplicable reason, the movement of her throat tightened his body even more. He was afraid he might end up with a permanent hard-on if he didn't claim her body soon. The sheet dipped just a little, revealing the small creamy swell of the tops of her breasts. Without thinking he reached out and tugged at the sheet until it dropped down to her waist.

She sat very still, holding her breath, her gaze jumping to his. He smiled to reassure her and then realized he probably looked like a wolf about to devour her.

"I'm only looking at what's mine," he assured her. "You need to sleep. But I like looking."

Her breasts rose and fell when she drew in her first deep breath of air, filling her lungs. Her nipples were rosy and peaking under his scrutiny. Temptation in the form of a woman. He couldn't help himself. One hand caressed her left breast, a brush with the pads of his fingers. She was warm and every bit as soft as her skin looked.

A current of electricity ran from her breast to his groin. The charge sizzled through his veins, a rush of intense heat that flooded his body. His cock jerked, drawing her attention to the bursting fullness he couldn't hide beneath the towel cinched around his waist. He didn't want to hide his reaction to her.

"Do you think you'll actually fit?"

He closed his eyes for a brief moment trying to hold on to sanity. It was the last thing he expected her to ask. Especially in a curious, I'm-so-intrigued tone.

"I think you were made for me," he assured. "I'll take good care of you, Airiana, always. A man should prepare his woman, and I have no doubt I'll find that task very pleasurable. I think I could eat you like candy and never get enough."

She blushed. The color surged into her face, down her neck and into her breasts. He felt the heat beneath his exploring fingers. She didn't pull away from him, not even when he tugged on her nipple gently. Heat flashed in her eyes, desire pushing at the exhaustion. He wanted her with every breath he took. It was going to be a long, excruciating night with his body on fire and no relief. That was certainly a first for him.

"I can't eat any more, Maxim, I'm sorry," she said. She put the fork down and looked around a little helplessly. "I don't have a toothbrush."

"The resort always has a little supply of things in the bathroom, including toothbrushes. Not a cheap one either." He'd used one of their toothbrushes he'd taken with him to kill a man who had ambushed him in his hotel room in Cairo. He thought it best not to mention that fact to her. "In the second drawer. There's toothpaste as well."

Her face lit up. "Thank you. My mouth will be forever in your debt."

"I like that idea," he said softly, contemplating the possibilities. She hadn't moved to make her way to the bathroom, and he realized she was sitting very still under the assault of his fingers. He hadn't stopped caressing her breasts. He enjoyed the shiver running through her body when he tugged at her nipples. She was definitely very sensitive. The idea of teaching her the things he liked was becoming more pleasurable by the moment.

He ran his fingers from the tip of her breast, lightly down her bruised ribs to her navel. Because he could. Because she was his. Reluctantly he dropped his hand. "Go brush your teeth, baby. You need to sleep before I change my mind."

She slipped out from under the sheet, a slow process when every muscle hurt. The tiny curls just above the junction of her legs were every bit as platinum, gold and silver as the hair on top of her head. He had to resist touching her there--and it wasn't easy. He would have followed her to the bathroom to ensure she didn't fall, but his body was too hard and painful to walk. He managed to set their meal aside on the end table before slipping the towel from his body and lightly circled his shaft, wanting to give himself relief, but knowing it wouldn't help.

He found himself smiling. She made him feel so alive. He wasn't alone in a hotel room, or a cabana or the cabin of a ship. He wasn't alone traveling the world, going back time after time to empty apartments he'd rented in several different names. She knew his true identity. She saw him; the man that he wanted to be--could be--was deep inside where no one else could ever go.

"I could maybe help."

Airiana stood beside the bed, looking at the thick length of him. This time he could see the apprehension in her eyes. He almost loved that as much as the curiosity, because she was so willing, even in spite of her anxiety, to please him. Was that love? Unconditional surrender? He wanted to know. More and more it mattered to him to find the right path with her.

"Not tonight, honey, although you can't know how much I want to take you up on that. I have to protect you, even from myself. You need care tonight. Rest. Not more physical activity, as much as it pains me to say."

"I want you to be able to sleep, Maxim. You haven't slept in days."

"I sleep. I've taught myself to sleep whenever possible."

He pulled back the sheet and waited for her to climb into bed. There was no resisting caressing her firm, rounded buttocks. He had a great appreciation of her shapely backside. She didn't pull away from him at all, rather pushed back into his hands while he kneaded and massaged the firm muscles.

"Lie down, honey," he instructed a little gruffly.

She was just too much of a temptation. His body refused to settle down, even when he willed it to. That had never happened to him before. He found it oddly unsettling and yet exhilarating.

Airiana complied with his command, and he pulled the sheet over her. They had never really turned on any of the overhead lights. The moon was up and light spilled into their cabana. He didn't like lights at night. People could see in and he couldn't see out.

"At least lay down, Maxim. I know you said you can't sleep with anyone in the same room, but I've gotten used to you being close and I don't want to be afraid."

He stretched out beside her, pleased she wanted him close to her. She moved subtly, enough to press her body close to the heat of his. Strangely, the small action made him far more comfortable.

She fell asleep almost immediately, and he turned to curve his body around hers protectively. Propping himself up on one elbow, he indulged his need to memorize every sweet line of her face. His body slowly settled now that she was asleep. He found himself just watching her, drinking her in.

16

MAXIM became aware of movement close to him. His hand tightened around the butt of his pistol beneath his pillow--an automatic response--just before awareness told him where he was and who lay beside him. He was curled around Airiana's body, her breast nestled in his open hand. He felt her nipple against the exact center of his palm.

He found himself smiling. He had a gun in one hand and a breast in the other. That had happened exactly seven times throughout the night--but he'd slept beside her. He'd actually gone to sleep with another human being beside him. Elation filled him. Airiana was magical. She represented everything good he'd never dared to want or dream about having.

He had only known pain. Loss. Heartache. Betrayal. He trusted no one, and no one trusted him. He had been alone for so long, existing in a shadow world where he was nothing but a ghost. He would have died in those shadows eventually without ever knowing what love was.

He breathed her into his lungs. His mouth moved against her temple and all that soft hair tumbling around her face slid over his jaw. Her skin tasted like love. Her hair felt like it. When he looked at her, his armor, always in place, always formidable, had cracked. Crumbled. Fell away.


Tags: Christine Feehan Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart Romance