Darknight(32)

Then at last the climax, rushing over us, pulling us along with it, two hapless swimmers struggling against a current we could not control. In that endless, weightless span of time, I felt the bond that had begun with a kiss finally fuse into a link I couldn’t begin to describe, only that I no longer knew where my soul ended and his began.

And within me the power of the prima flared up, a new strength glowing within me, bringing with it at last the knowledge that within me was the ability to do so many things I’d never even dreamed of.

I had come into my own.

Connor stared down into my face the way a man dying of thirst might gaze on the oasis of his salvation. He bent and kissed me, and the tenderness in that kiss was enough to make me want to weep.

“I love you, Angela,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Connor,” I whispered back.

For in that moment I knew I did love him, that I’d loved him for longer than I wanted to admit.

What it all meant, I had no idea.

I only knew that there would be no turning back from this now.





6





New Day





We lay in each other’s arms for a long time, savoring the warmth of one another’s flesh. Finally, though, I stirred and said, “Did that work up an appetite for some cranberry tarts?”

I saw his teeth flash in the darkness as he grinned. “For those…among other things. But I suppose we can go for tarts and then come back here for round two later.”

My body flared with heat at the thought. “That sounds perfect to me. But let me run over to the other room so I can get my jammies.”

“I like you better the way you are now.”

“It’s cold, Connor.” And it was; despite the building’s heat, I could practically feel the night’s chill seeping in around the window frame. “Besides, if I put my pajamas on now, that means you get to take them off later.”

“Point taken. Okay, I’m down with that.” He pushed himself off the bed and walked across the room to the dresser. Fine by me, as I got to see his well-muscled thighs and backside that way. All that hiking and skiing obviously had worked their own magic on his physique.

I could feel the damp heat stirring between my legs as I stared at him, but somehow I managed to force myself up and across to the guest room, where I pulled some clean underwear out of the duffle and then got into my flannel pajama bottoms and thermal top. After this I had a feeling I wouldn’t be sleeping in here ever again. And what would that be like, to close my eyes with Connor beside me, to know that I could reach out in the darkness and feel his warmth, his strength, just where I needed it?

When I came back to the master bedroom, he was wearing a pair of godawful plaid pajama pants and a Northern Pines University sweatshirt. He looked so adorable like that, with his hair mussed and his bare ankles showing under the too-short pajama bottoms, that I almost wanted to laugh.

I didn’t, though. “Ready for that tart?”

“You bet.” He flashed a smile at me. “And I have a surprise.”

“Haven’t we had enough surprises for tonight?”

“You’ll see.”

He reached out and wrapped his fingers around mine, and a tingling heat moved up my arm. Would it always be like this? Would every touch from him make me want to throw myself against him so he could fill me yet again?

In a way, I hoped not. It would be awfully hard to get anything done.

But for now I was all right with that unnerving warmth moving through me, the throbbing between my legs that told me I wasn’t done with him, not by a long shot.

We went downstairs hand in hand. Only when we reached the kitchen did he let go and reach for the refrigerator door. Opening it, he peered inside, then pulled out the tray of tarts I’d put in there to chill earlier. He wasn’t done there, though; he bent down and got something out of the door.

“Champagne?” I asked.

“Can you think of a better excuse to drink it?”

“Not really.”

He retrieved some rather dusty flutes from one of the higher shelves in a cupboard, then pulled out some plates for the tarts. I handed him a dish towel so he could wipe down the glasses, which clearly didn’t see much use.

The dirty dishes from dinner were still stacked next to the sink, but otherwise I hadn’t done too bad a job of tidying up. Although in the past it had sometimes irritated, now I was glad of the way my aunt had trained me to clean up as I went along so I wouldn’t be faced with a huge mess in the kitchen at the end of the evening.

Or in the morning, I thought, eyeing the bottle of champagne. I had a feeling neither of us was going to be in the mood for dish washing tonight.

I transferred the tarts to the dishes and got out some forks, and then we both headed into the living room. The fire had banked down, smoldering into coals, but after setting the champagne and the glasses down on the coffee table, Connor placed some fresh wood in the hearth. The flames, newly energized, licked up against the logs, bringing some welcome warmth to the room.