Free Heart's Magic by Gail Dayton Page A

pull her close, crush her breasts
against his powerful chest. And she liked it. She adored being held
so tight, captive in a man's embrace. It wasn't frightening at all.
Because it was Harry who was kissing her. And she was kissing him
back.
    That wasn't right. She
shouldn't--
    "Elinor," he whispered.
" God , Elinor." His
hands began roving, across her back, around her waist, up her ribs
until the heels of his hands pushed into the sides of her
breasts.
    Sensation flooded her,
overwhelmed coherent thought, turning her mind into a jumbled mess
where she could only grab snatches of this and bits of that. Harry
was kissing her.
    His arm was behind her
again, holding her up, his other hand at her waist, while he
alternated between the deep open-mouthed kisses and tiny, damp,
dragging kisses along her jawline, down her neck, up her cheeks and
gently across her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. She could
only clutch his shoulders and shiver.
    His hand at her waist began
to creep up her side, bit by incremental bit while he kissed her.
He stroked over her tongue with his as if trying to lure her out
once more and when she succumbed to the lure--helpless to do
otherwise--he sucked on her tongue, making her shiver. His hand had
risen high enough to frame her breast with thumb and forefinger,
his thumb pressing lightly from beneath. That made her shiver too,
made her knees shake, made her nipples pucker and tighten. But she
wasn't cold. She was flushed with heat, light-headed with
it.
    Harry stroked his thumb up
and over her breast, teasing her hard-puckered nipple, the
sensation tingling through her. He groaned and the sound penetrated
her lust-fogged mind.
    She struggled to grasp
sense, to escape from the tangle of her senses. Harry pressed a
kiss to her neck, just under her jaw where the skin was so
sensitive. His perfect lips sent shudders rippling through her. His
hand beneath her breast caught the shuddering and sent it
skittering deeper. Her arms were around him, her head tipping back
to give him the access he wanted. His thumb slid up and over the
peak of her breast again and her entire body flushed with the feel
of it.
    Somewhere in the distance,
a door closed. Harry lifted his head, alert and wary, though his
thumb still made its teasing journey over her sensitized nipple.
Elinor shivered.
    What was she doing? This
wasn't who she was, wasn't what she wanted. Was it?
    No. She was magister of the
wizard's guild. She had to be brighter, better, smarter than this. She had duties and
responsibilities. Ambitions. And yet, here she stood wrapped up in
a man's embrace. What had come over her?
    "Come on, Ellie. Let's be
private." Harry held her close against him as he swept her from the
entrance hall into his front parlor. Elinor made herself pull from
his arms as he reached to tug the pocket door closed.
    "No, don't." She looked
around for her pelisse and hat, still far too fuzzy-brained for her
comfort. Her mind, her refuge, had abandoned her. "I have to
go."
    "What for?" Harry caught
her round the waist again, flush against him. His head dipped for
another kiss and Elinor turned her face away.
    "No, Harry. Stop it." She
pushed at him, her traitorous fingers curling in to feel that
broad, male chest.
    He let her go. "What's
goin' on, Elinor?" He cupped her cheek, stroked his thumb to the
corner of her mouth and back. The gentle, almost cherishing touch
was harder to turn away from than the passion. But she had
to.
    "I have to go." She reached
for the door and Harry caught her hand, stopped her.
    He pressed a kiss to her
palm with those soft, perfect lips. "Why?"
    She snatched her hand from
him. Why did this have to be so hard? She'd never had this problem
before, never been so tempted. But it wouldn't be sacrifice if it
were easy. "I told you. We can't do this. I thought you
understood."
    "I did. I do. But the
challenge is over. You won. No more need to fret over
distractions." Somehow, he had her other hand and was kissing