When Lightning Strikes

When the shudders subsided, he drew her close and buried his face in the crook of her neck. They lay there a long time, neither one speaking, neither one needing to. The crisp, cool air hung heavy with the scent of their passion.

Killian let out his breath in a long, low sigh. A remnant of their electricity tingled through his body, left him full of strange, lingering sensations that were unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He felt .. . complete, as if the empty years had been washed away and forgotten.

He'd never felt this before, not even with Emily. Sex with Emily had been loving and gentle and caring, but if he was honest with himself, there'd always been something missing. Even after all their years together, she'd somehow remained virginal, untouchable and un-

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touched. He'd thought that was how ladies were, all that they could be.

Lainie had begun like that; she'd touched him reluctantly if at all, she'd squeezed her legs together and been afraid of the intimacy of his touch. But the fire had swept her fear away, and without it, she was as bold and sensual and needy as he.

He smiled. The world and all of its possibilities opened up to him suddenly, offered him a future he'd never allowed himself to imagine. A new beginning for a man who'd thought life was a dead end.

He stroked the line of her back, feeling the sheen of moisture that clung to her flesh. Turning slightly, she opened her eyelids. There was a dazed look in her eyes. Then not so dazed. A slow smile curved her lips as a blush spread up her cheeks. One quick spurt of a giggle shot from her mouth before she bit down on her lower lip. "So that's what all the hoopla's about," she said.

He grinned down at her, knowing it was a wolfish, predatory smile and not caring in the least. Christ, he felt predatory right now, and territorial, too. He wanted her again, damn it, wanted her in a way he'd never wanted another woman, and never would again. He wanted her body, her soul, her heart, and he wanted them for a lifetime. "Not quite, darlin'."

She gave him a slow, sensual smile that made his blood race. "There's more that feels that good?"

He laughed softly, pulling her close. "You can't imagine what I can do with my tongue."

"You're wrong," she whispered hoarsely, twining her legs around his, locking her ankles behind his. "I'm imagining it right now."

He gave her a slow smile and slid his hand down

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her stomach. "Ah, but fact is so much better than fiction."

She trembled beneath his touch, "I'll never doubt that

again."

Chapter Twenty-four

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Sunlight shot through the trees and gilded the dirt, played on the water in a shifting, magical pattern. The faint, familiar aromas of coffee and bacon and powdery dirt filled the air.

Killian tossed the last of their supplies into the saddlebags and turned to look back at Lainie. She sat beside the fire, her head bowed, her sweater sagging off one shoulder. She was poking a stick into the dirt, swirling it around to create a puffing cloud of dust. The last hardy flames of the near-dead fire flickered light against her face, cast her in dancing shadows.

At the sight of her, he felt a painful swell of emotion. He shook his head, sighing. Christ, he'd made love to her for hours, and he was still aching with the need to touch her again. Grinning, he strode toward her.

"Hi," she said softly, without looking up.

He sat down beside her, leaning close. "I know we should head out, but I can think of a better idea, if you're willing,"

She turned to him slightly, trying to smile. Her eyes were sparkling with tears.

His smile faded. "Regrets?"

She shook her head. It was a flutter of soft movement against his shoulder. "Never."

"Then what?"

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