Free His Destiny by Diana Cosby Page B

he didn’t let go. When he’d awoken with Cristina curled at his side, he’d meant to steal a kiss before they began their journey this day. Instead of his lighthearted intent, he’d made her think of her rape.
    “I will not harm you,” he said, keeping his voice calm despite the violence battering his heart against a man who would attack a lass.
    “I know.”
    But he saw the fear, the nerves she fought to hide. With the paltry time remaining between them, if he waited for her to come to him, she might never dare. “I want to kiss you.”
    “I—”
    “Trust me.” And he found her response important, wanting, no craving that she would give him her trust. In mere days the lass had become important to him.
    Emerald eyes darkened with emotion. “I do.”
    The enormity of the responsibility she’d given him weighed heavy on his mind. The rape after her husband’s death had left her with nightmares, yesterday’s near brutality another harsh reminder.
    His irritation built. With her faith in him, if he left her with fear in her eyes, he would be far from the man she needed him to be. He tamped down the ire. By God, he would purge the bastard’s vile act from her mind, leave only memories of the beauty of a lover’s touch.
    On edge, wanting her with his every breath, Patrik gently claimed her lips. Awareness sparked in her gaze, grew, trampled upon the nerves shadowing her eyes. Pleased, he caressed the curve of her jaw as he slowly moved his mouth again over hers.
    “Kiss me back,” he whispered.
    Cristina hesitated, and then complied, her cautious movements stoking the heat within him. But he allowed her to set the pace, endured the nervous press of her mouth, her fumbling passion as her lips hesitantly explored his own. Then, as if the demons haunting her mind fell away, she took his mouth in a hungry demand.
    The intensity of her kiss stormed him. His body hardened with fierce intent. His breathing grew uneven, but he curbed the urge to strip her and sink deep within her warmth. Now was a time for her to heal, a time to rid herself of the darkness seizing her mind.
    Patrik made love to her mouth, taking, giving, savoring her each little sigh, her every gasp of pleasure. When her body softened against his, he slid his hands along her curves, appreciating her every tremble, the awareness he evoked, the need his touch had invited.
    On a whimper, she shifted restlessly against him.
    Careful not to push her too fast, he skimmed his fingers across her silken flesh, releasing the ties of her gown. He nudged the cloth aside and exposed her to his view. If she made any attempt to cover herself, however much he wanted her, he would stop.
    Instead, she continued to kiss him, her mouth demanding, ruthlessly taking. So he sank into the kiss, savored the swell of her breast against his hand, enjoyed her every shudder as he toyed with the sensitive nub.
    At her moan, he pressed kisses against her cheek, then moved lower, allowed his teeth to scrape the curve of her jaw. He nipped her gently, enjoying her shudder of surprise, the sensual flush that slid up her throat.
    “I am going to make love with you,” he whispered, her heat, her scent, driving him wild. “I want to see you, touch you all over.”
    Worry flashed in her gaze.
    He steadied himself, tamped down the flash of anger. “No,” he said, his words soft, “do not think of anyone but me. No one else is here but you and I.”
    “I know.”
    “You are safe with me. Never would I harm you.”
    Tenderness softened her expression, her delicate blush striking. “I am being foolish.”
    “Nay.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “If anything, you should be angry, furious that a man dared touch you, scar your mind against what should be amazing.”
    Cristina turned away.
    “Look at me, watch me while I make love to you.”
    Fear fluttered in her eyes, but she met his gaze.
    With care, he wove his way down her tempting flesh, lingered along the sleek curve of