end of my days. No one wears the colour blue like you do.”
Whatever he said, he wore the demeanour of a man who was in the process of making a hard decision. A decision he meant to stick by come what may. “I don’t want to leave you here.” He turned his head abruptly, his tone a shield. “It’s getting late. You can come back tomorrow if you like. There’s always another sunset.”
“It’s okay, I’ll stay.” He was hurting her, punishing her. For what? Growing up? Turning into a desirable woman? She could see the pulse drumming away in his temple.
“It’s me, isn’t it, Keefe?” She took a hesitant step towards him, her blue eyes full of entreaty. “I’m the one causing you tension. You don’t really want me here. I’ve turned from your ‘little buddy’ into a woman, thus an unwanted distraction.”
The air between them fairly crackled. “You want me to tell you that?” he challenged roughly. “Well, I can’t. I do want you here, but my job is to protect you. It’s always been my job. Gran really suffered when your mother died. Did you know that?”
Skye shook her head helplessly. Why was he going off at a tangent? And now? “No, I didn’t,” she admitted. “If she suffered, she must have loved my mother?”
“Love.” He reached for her in a blind rush, hauling her right into his arms.
His grip was so powerful, so perfect, she felt as weightless as a china doll.
Breathe, Skye. Breathe. Her emotions were running so high, her response so headlong, it was possible she could pass out.
“God!” he breathed, turning up his head to the cobalt dome of the sky. It sounded to her ears like a cry for help. Like he knew he shouldn’t do this. Whatever the desire he felt for her—she couldn’t help but be aware of his arousal—he felt compelled not to give in to it. “We have to go. Really, we have to go.” His grip eased abruptly so she could move.
Only she couldn’t. She wanted to stay there with him for the rest of her life. Even if it sounded as if his heart was being torn out of him. That gave her wild hope. “No, stay here with me,” she begged. Where had that alluring tone of voice come from? She had never used it before.
From the heart.
Unable to control the mad urge that had come upon her, she brought up her arms to lock them around his neck. The thought of having power over him was absolutely dizzying. She heard him groan like a man ensnared in some inescapable golden net. “What are you doing to me, Skye?” he muttered. “You know what will happen?”
“So?” Her eyes were devouring each separate feature of his face. The set of his extraordinary eyes. The arch of his black brows that formed such a stunning contrast. His tanned skin bore a prickle of dark beard. And, oh, his mouth! That wide, strong, sensual mouth, the outline so cleanly cut it might have been chiselled.
“You’re a virgin?” He looked down into her eyes, his hands spreading out over her back burning through the cotton.
“I am.” Her voice was scarcely above a whisper.
“You wouldn’t lie to me.”
It was a statement, not a question. Was he that sure of her? So aware she had an emotional dependency on him? “Are you lying in some way to me now, Keefe? Tormenting me? Or are you promising to take me where you believe I want to go?”
His handsome face showed stress. “Let me try.”
All nature seemed to be listening. Even the birds, though they wheeled overhead, gave no cries to stay her. She should be listening too. Not making it so easy for Keefe to win her over. “You?” she questioned. “The never-puts-a-foot-wrong Keefe McGovern to cut loose with Jack McCory’s daughter?”
“The more I try, the fiercer the longing gets.” Keefe’s answer was harsher than he had intended but he felt himself on a knife edge. Attraction this strong, this elemental rendered a man nearly powerless. Slowly he closed his roughened hands around the satin-smooth planes of her face, caressing her cheekbones as he would caress an exquisite piece of porcelain.
It was too much for Skye. Little silver sparks were dancing wildly in her breast. She had to close her eyes to contain the powerful shooting sensations. Excitement that had started as a dull roar was turning into a raging flame. If there was a taboo, it was about to be broken…
In the next breath she felt his mouth, warm and lushly male, come down over hers. He tasted wonderful! Delectable! She could scarcely get enough of him. Her knees were buckling from the sheer weight of emotion. She had to cling to him, throw her arms around his waist to anchor her to the ground. Sexual desire—no it was much more: an undying passion—was mounting at such a rate it had become a turbulent flood of hunger ready to surge over her and take her under. Keefe did things better than anyone. Better than anyone could.
Keefe drew her lips up with his own, taking deeply erotic exploratory breaths, sipping and sucking at the sweet nectar within, while he continued to hold her against him with unknowing strength. The intimacy was so intense it was almost unbearable. The light clear pure bonds of childhood had turned into an adult force so powerful it was intimidating. He had always looked at her with such fondness, like a much-loved little cousin, with respect for her high intelligence. How, then, could he allow himself to become a threat to her? Worse, possibly destroy what they had?
“Is it wrong to go from protector to lover?” he asked, never more serious in his life. He drew back quickly so he could search her face. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked, or how highly aroused. Her beauty and desirability leapt at him.
He had to bend low to hear her whispered answer. “Couldn’t we see it as entirely natural?” she asked. He was so absolutely perfect to her in every way. No one could replace him.
“Then God will forgive me,” Keefe answered in a strange near-mystical tone. What had befallen him had befallen her.
Kismet.
Skye allowed her heavy lids to fall shut. She felt as though Heaven had given her permission to allow ascendancy to the blind yearning she felt. This moment in time had been accorded her. Therefore she had to seize on it, feeling like a mortal maiden about to couple with a young god.
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