him feel her body as she drew it with smooth sweetness to either side.
His eyes opened again, reading the intensity of hunger in hers.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, now it happens. Now…”
His voice didn’t change, but his breathing did. He looked down at her, lengthening his movements, deepening them, so that although the tenderness remained, the urgency grew.
Something was happening to her that she didn’t understand. Terrifying tension, hands buffeting her, a blazing tide of warmth that speared through her like tiny needles. Her mouth opened because she could no longer breathe. Her body began to shudder helplessly, tiny little shudders that matched the tenderness that was devouring her.
“I’m…afraid…” she managed, and her fingers clenched at his back as she felt her body beginning to contract.
“Hush,” he said softly. His movements deepened, and still he watched. “Yes, feel it. Feel it now. There’s nothing to be…afraid of,
lieveling.
No, don’t turn away, let me see you….”
He turned her head back to him, and his face blurred. She thought he smiled, but she was all bursting fireworks, a flare lighting up the night sky. She felt gentle explosions all through her body, and for a moment her heart stopped, her breathing stopped. And then she cried, because it had been so beautiful, and so brief.
Even as the tears came, she felt his own body go rigid, heard the tender, surprised exclamation at her ear, and then her name….
He didn’t move for a long time. Neither did she. She felt incapable of movement. What had happened surprised her. He’d said they wouldn’t make love again until they got married, so why had he done it? And why that way? So tenderly, so gently, as if he cared about her.
Experimentally, her hands moved on the damp muscles of his shoulders.
He lifted his head and searched her eyes slowly. He touched her face with gentle fingers. “In my life there was never such a tender loving before,” he said. “I didn’t know that men and women were capable of it.” He brushed away the tears. “I hurt you?” he asked.
“No.” She swallowed. “It was…so beautiful,” she faltered.
“Yes. For me, too.” He drew away from her with exquisite slowness, watching her. He sighed heavily, and frowned. After a minute he turned back to the bathroom. “We’d better get dressed.”
She got up, too, a little shaky and puzzled by his odd behavior. He’d meant to comfort her, she was certain of it. But the comfort had gotten out of hand. And the way he’d loved her…
As she dressed she wondered if she was doing the right thing, marrying a total stranger. Then he came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing except his slacks, his blond hair neatly combed, his face slowly curving into a smile. And she knew that she’d die to wear his ring, babies or no babies. She smiled back.
They were married in a small chapel, with people all around them who spoke little English. The minister beamed at them when it was over, inviting the new husband to kiss his bride.
Dutch bent and brushed his mouth softly against hers, smiling at his own folly. Well, it was done now. And it wouldn’t be so bad, he told himself as he studied her radiant young face. She could wait for him at home, and they’d see each other whenever he was there. It might even be good that way. No routine to bore him. She could go on with her life, and there would be no ties. He frowned for a minute as he thought of what had happened this morning, then he shook off the instant fear of consequences. Surely to God, he hadn’t made her pregnant. He’d just have to be careful from now on. No more lapses. The thought of a child terrified him. That would make a tie he couldn’t break.
Dani saw that frown, and worried about it. She wondered why he’d really married her, when he seemed the kind of man who was self-sufficient and didn’t need anyone else.
“You aren’t sorry?” she asked finally when they were walking back
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