Free A Love for All Time by Dorothy Garlock Page B

dark eyes lit up with mischievous delight. “I found myself attunedto you right from the start. Does that sound as if I hardly know you?”
    Casey’s features took on a look of carved stone, her clear tawny-gold eyes grew cold and unseeing. “If you’re looking for a new partner for an interlude of sexual fun and games, forget it. It’s not my style.”
    His long fingers curved around her chin, forcing her to face him. “Believe me, Casey. An ‘interlude’ with you never crossed my mind.” His hands moved lightly over her shoulders. “I don’t know where to touch you.” He groaned. “And God knows, I want to!” He watched her face closely to see if she winced when his hands moved down her back.
    Casey watched his mouth moving toward hers and instinctively splayed her fingers against his chest. Then his mouth deliberately took slow, sensual possession of hers and her lips parted invitingly beneath his, as if she had no control over them. She inhaled the heady fragrance of his aftershave and her tongue tasted the fresh flavor of his mouth. His breathing was ragged and she could feel the pounding of his heart even though he was holding her lightly against him. His hands moved down her back and over her hips, caressing, while his mouth pressed against her with a hungry urgency. Her rapidly disintegrating common sense told her she was treading on dangerous ground and had better act while she could.
    “Dan … please,” she managed thickly. Then ashis hand moved from the nape of her neck to push the hair back from her face, she uttered a sharp, “Don’t do that!” She jerked herself away from him and turned her back. Nervous hands smoothed the hair around her face.
    He was behind her, close, his hands on her upper arms. “Casey,” he said in a voice that rasped with emotion. “Surely you know I didn’t follow you here for a one night stand.” He pressed his cheek against her smooth one. She could hear the scrape of his whiskers on her cheek and the pounding of his heart against her back. His mouth traced a pattern along her jaw line. “I want you to be well and strong when I make love to you. I don’t think I’ll always be gentle, my Guinevere.”
    “Please stop calling me that.” A distant part of Casey’s mind was aware that she was succumbing to an uncontrollable desire to lean back against him, to let his strength support her. “You know there was no Camelot, no Guinevere,” she said desperately, striving to put some reality into the situation.
    “Who says there wasn’t a Camelot? There was a Sir Lancelot and there was a Guinevere, just like there’s a Santa Claus and a tooth fairy if we believe it.” His hands turned her to face him. “Don’t be frightened by this,” he murmured. “It’s new to me, too. Until a few short weeks ago, I never expected to become involved with anyone, to spend all my waking moments thinking about someone. I had to come here to be with you for awhile and find out what it is about you that fascinates me so. It’s assimple as that.” His hands slid to either side of her waist. “Does it hurt you when I hold you here?”
    “No,” Casey whispered. “I only have two really sore spots left.”
    “Your breast and your ear?” She nodded, her eyes still caught by his. “I’ll be careful of them.” His voice deepened and his dark eyes never left her gold ones until he lowered his head and his mouth claimed hers with a gentle stamp of ownership. Casey stood quietly with her eyes closed. He traced her upper lip with the tip of his tongue before he raised his head to look at her. He took her hands and brought them up to his neck. “Kiss me once, m’lady,” he said huskily, then, “Your hands are cold, get back into bed.”
    Casey kissed him gently on the lips, then pulled away to look at him. She wanted to say something that made her action sensible. But the truth was she had done it purely in reaction to his request. You’re making a mistake, her mind