Free For the Love of Sami by Fayrene Preston Page B

you."
    Amusement lurked in his eyes. "How do you know that?"
    "Gee . . . uh . . . I don’t know. Rumor, I guess."
    The comers of his mouth turned up humorously. "Well, as it happens, this time rumor is absolutely correct. I never have. Until now."
    Sami hesitated. "What’s different this time?"
    Daniel didn’t. "You."
    Searching his face for some clue, she asked, "Do you feel obligated because you took my virginity? Because if that’s it, let me tell you, you took nothing. I gave it to you willingly."
    "Good to hear, but I don’t feel obligated. I feel compelled." His mouth captured hers in a long and especially tender kiss, and only after she was clinging helplessly to him did he raise his head. "From the first moment I saw you, things have been out of my power. I love you, Sami."
    She tensed at his words. His long fingers trailed across her forehead and down her cheek, as if he wanted to brand the knowledge into her head. "I’m sorry if it distresses you, my love, but it’s an irreversible fact." Resting most of his weight on his elbows, he moved over her, far enough down her body so that his fingers could brush lightly back and forth across both her breasts. Every nerve in her body tingled to life.
    "And you love me." He caught her protest with his lips, pushing his tongue into the sweetness of her mouth.
    "No," she said with a groan, and at the same time contradicted her statement by arching into his hand.
    "Yes, my love, you do. You just don’t realize it yet."
    It couldn’t work out between them, of course, and she’d have to tell him. But not now. Not now, when she was finding it so hard even to think.
    "You’re not leaving here."
    "I have to . . . Ohhh, that feels so good . . . There are friends I have to see . . . Daniel . . . Ahhh, Daniel! . . . I need clothes . . ."
    "You don’t have to go," he growled hoarsely. "We can call your friends. I can buy you all the clothes you want."
    Sami’s senses were reeling, her pulses pounding. She felt her legs being parted and then Daniel’s throbbing hardness nudging gently at the softly delicate entrance between her thighs.
    "Say you won’t leave."
    "I have to, Daniel." She sighed achingly, attempting to move against him. It was no use, however. With slight thrusts of his hips, he made only light, teasing contact with her again and again.
    He was determined. "Say it!"
    He won. "I—I won’t leave."
    He entered her immediately, moving with a rhythm that was hard and urgent, taking them both to a realm where neither of them had been before, where nothing was important but their mutual, splintering, shattering climax.
    And in the end, they compromised. She went home that day to reassure Jerome and Morgan, to putter in her workshop, to change clothes, but she came back that night . . . and every night thereafter.
    They worked out a very nice arrangement. Since they were both gone from the house during the day, the efficient Mrs. Abbott used that time to do her usual superb job of cleaning and cooking, then made a timely exit before either of them arrived home. Unless one of them had an urge to cook something special for dinner, they heated whatever it was Mrs. Abbott had prepared for them that day.
    They were in Daniel’s den several weeks later, and a fire had already been lit. The night had closed in faster than usual, signaling perhaps an early end to summer.
    Sami’s wraparound skirt grazed her calves as she ambled barefoot and aimless around the room. Normally ankle-length, she wore it up under her arms, thus creating a very fetching and unusual strapless dress. The skirt was actually made up of a rich folklore of patches that she had collected over the years—bits and pieces of lace, chiffon, velvet, and silk. She rarely threw anything away. Around her neck hung a necklace of African wooden beads.
    Daniel’s dark blue eyes observed her progress around the room. "Did you have a good day?"
    Sami couldn’t help but notice how carefully the question had been