A Little Magic(73)

But even in dreams, he hadn’t wanted so much.

How could he? he thought as Kayleen started down the staircase toward him. Dreams paled next to the power of her.

He reached out, almost afraid that his hand would pass through her and leave him nothing but this yearning. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

“Tonight”—she linked her fingers with his—“everything’s beautiful.” She stepped toward him and was confused when he stepped back.

“I thought…Will you dance with me, Kayleen?”

As he spoke, the air filled with music. Candles, hundreds of them, spurted into flame. The light was pale gold now, and flowers blossomed down the walls, turning the hall into a garden.

“I’d love to,” she said, and moved into his arms.

They waltzed in the Great Hall, through the swaying candlelight and the perfume of roses that bloomed everywhere. Doors and windows sprang open, welcoming the glow of moon and stars and the fragrance of the night.

Thrilled, Kayleen threw back her head and let him sweep her in stirring circles. “It’s wonderful! Everything’s wonderful. How can you know how to waltz like this when there was no waltz in your time?”

“Watching through dreams. I see the world go by in them, and I take what pleases me most. I’ve danced with you in dreams, Kayleen. You don’t remember?”

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t dream. And if I do, I never remember. But I’ll remember this.” She smiled at him. “Forever.”

“You’re happy.”

“I’ve never in my life been so happy.” Her hand slid from his shoulder, along his neck, to rest on his cheek. The blue of her eyes deepened. Went dreamy. “Flynn.”

“Wine,” he said, when fresh nerves kicked in his belly. “You’ll want wine.”

“No.” The music continued to swell as they stood. “I don’t want wine.”

“Supper, then.”

“No.” Her hand trailed over, cupped the back of his neck. “Not supper either,” she murmured and drew his mouth to hers. “You.” She breathed it. “Only you.”

“Kayleen.” He’d intended to romance her, charm her. Seduce her. Now she had done all of that to him. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“I’ve waited so long, without even knowing. There’s never been anyone else. Now I think there couldn’t have been, because there was you. Show me what it’s like to belong.”

“There’s no woman I’ve touched who mattered. They’re shadows beside you, Kayleen. This,” he said and lifted her into his arms, “is real.”

He carried her through the music and candlelight, up the grand stairs. And though she felt his arms, the beat of his heart, it was like floating.

“Here is where I dreamed of you in the night.” He took her into his bedchamber, where the bed was covered with red silk and the petals of white roses, where candles stood flaming and the fire shimmered. “And here is where I’ll love you, this first time. Flesh to flesh.”

He set her on her feet. “I won’t hurt you, that I can promise. I’ll give you only pleasure.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then be with me.” He cupped her face in his hands, laid his lips on hers.

In dreams there had been longing, and echoes of sensations. Here and now, with those mists parted, there was so much more.

Gently, so gently, his mouth took from hers. Warmth and wanting. With tenderness and patience, his hands moved over her. Soft and seductive. When she trembled, he soothed, murmuring her name, and promises. He slid the gown off her shoulders, trailed kisses over that curve of flesh. And thrilled to the flavor and the fragrance.

“Let me see you now, lovely Kayleen.” He skimmed his lips along her throat as he eased the gown down her body. When it pooled at her feet, he stepped back and looked his fill.

There was no shyness in her. The heat that rose up to bloom on her skin was anticipation. The tremble that danced through her was delight when his gaze finished its journey and his eyes locked on hers.

He reached out, caressed the curve of her breast, let them both absorb the sensation. When his fingertips trailed down, he felt her quiver under his touch.

She reached for him, her hands not quite steady as she unbuttoned his shirt. And when she touched him, it was like freedom.

“A ghra.” He pulled her against him, crushed her mouth with his, lost himself in the needs that stormed through him. His hands raced over her, took, sought more, until she gasped out his name.

Too fast, too much. God help him. He fought back through the pounding in his blood, gentled his movements, chained the raw need. When he lifted her again, laid her on the bed, his kiss was long and slow and gentle.