had been the golden couple, extremely happy together, Suzie's illness and the battle she had fought to overcome it almost killing Rand too.
It was a battle Merlyn wasn't sure he had yet managed to win.
She envied Suzie Forrester for having known a love like that, had given up any idea of finding such a love herself after the disillusionment of loving unwisely, her dream of having a husband and a houseful of children becoming exactly that. Against her will she was becoming as much of a career-woman as her mother was.
On that depressing thought she took herself up to bed.
It was a strange house, a strange bed, the rain sounding very threatening against the window of her bedroom, and she wasn't sure of her host's frame of mind either, but after the long and tiring day she had had, Merlyn fell asleep almost as soon as her head sank into the downy softness of the pillow.
She woke up just as suddenly!
She had heard a loud crash, instantly fearing that it had something to do with the storm still raging outside. Perhaps one of the towering pine trees that surrounded three sides of the house had come crashing down on top of it; the wind howling against the window sounded gale-force. She had to go and make sure Rand was all right!
His bedroom door still stood open, the room empty, although the tangle of bedclothes showed that Rand had occupied the bed at least part of the night even if he weren't there now. Maybe he had gone downstairs to investigate the sound of that crashing noise?
She heard another crash, the sound of broken glass accompanying it, and it was coming from downstairs. God, the house was being crushed beneath those monstrous trees! As she rushed down the stairs to find Rand, she became aware of a strange sound coming from the direction of the lounge, like an animal whimpering in pain. She hadn't realised Rand possessed a cat or dog, maybe—
Her hand froze in the action of switching on the light as she realised those mournful groans weren't coming from an animal at all, that it was Rand making those muffled sobbing sounds as he knelt in all his naked glory in front of the fire still burning in the hearth, his face buried in his hands. On the carpet in front of him lay a broken picture frame, only ‘Darling, I—’ left of the inscription on the half-burned photograph of Suzie Forrester, that and the smile that had to be just for Rand.
Merlyn didn't know whether to go or stay, knew that she was intruding on this man's personal grief. The smashed frame and burnt photograph couldn't have been an accident, not when that same photograph had been standing on Rand's bedside table earlier. He had to have brought it downstairs with him.
Then she saw what had caused the first sound of crashing glass, a brandy bottle lying in several pieces in the hearth, and from the lack of brandy with it she guessed the bottle had been empty before it was thrown. But why had Rand got himself so drunk that in his rage he had destroyed the photograph of his wife? Whatever his reason, she knew he would deeply resent her intrusion, and she was turning to leave when she realised that the heart-breaking sobbing had stopped. Her lashes slowly raised as she looked up to find that silver gaze fixed on her.
A sob caught in her own throat for the ravages this man's grief had made on his face, his eyes dull with his private pain, tears still dampening the soft dark lashes, lines etched into his face, a face white with emotion.
A shudder racked his body as she looked at him. ‘Rand …?’ She half ran to him, and then stopped, not knowing what he wanted her to do. She wanted to go to him, put her arms around him, and comfort him in any way that he would let her.
As he slowly stood up, the magnificence of his body bathed in the glow of firelight, she knew there was only one way she could comfort him tonight, that mere words alone wouldn't be enough.
She walked farther into the room, stopping a short distance from Rand, her hands snaking slightly as they moved up to slip the straps of her nightgown from her shoulders, pushing the material down over her breasts, the nipples already taut and inviting, the silky garment becoming a splash of black at her feet as it slid down over her hips to the carpeted floor. She stepped over it and into Rand's arms.
IF anything the anguish on Rand's face had deepened by the time Merlyn raised her face from pressing feather-light kisses across his chest, and she pulled away hesitantly.
‘No,’ he groaned, holding her close. ‘I want your magic tonight, Merlyn. I need it!'
She could feel the trembling of his body beneath her hands as they rested lightly on his shoulders, could feel the fierce hardness of his desire pressing against her stomach, trembling a little herself as she sensed the force of that desire should it be unleashed.
‘You came to me in the midst of a storm, Merlyn.’ He swung her up into his arms against his chest with little effort. ‘Like a temptress stepping into my darkness.’ He placed her gently on the carpeted floor, away from the shattered glass, but close enough for them to feel the fire's flames against their nakedness. ‘I want to burn in your fire for just a short while.’ He buried his face against the brightness of her hair. ‘Warm me, Merlyn. Make me feel you!'
The wanting she had experienced when she first met him hadn't lessened, and yet as she smoothed the tousled hair back from his brow and opened her mouth to his, it was compassion that warmed her. She wanted to ease his pain, even if it meant experiencing pain of her own.
Their mouths moved moistly together, learning, seeking, possessing, the fierce thrusts of Rand's tongue giving her a pleasure she had never dreamt of. Rand had forgotten his living nightmare now as he lost himself to the magic of her body, caressing and knowing every inch of her, one of his hands protectively cupping the downy softness that shielded her womanhood. At the same time his head moved down her body until his mouth closed moistly over the turgid peak of one nipple.
Merlyn arched her back pleadingly as his mouth released her to trail moistly down the curve of her breast, gasping her ecstasy as he claimed the other pouting nipple.
Every inch of her trembled with need and, although he had been the one to plead with her, he was now the master, had become the conqueror without receiving the smallest resistance.
But Merlyn needed to touch him too, her hands sliding down the dampness of his back to his buttocks, her nails scraping lightly across his taut skin, feeling the quiver of his flesh beneath her caresses, knowing how to please him instinctively.
She moved determinedly, the aggressor now as Rand lay beneath her, controlling his entry as she moved on top of him, feeling the hard swell of him slowly move inside her, hoping he would put this delay down to an effort on her part to prolong his pleasure. His head was thrown back, his jaw clenched as she lifted herself up before lowering herself for a second time.
‘Now, Merlyn,’ he gasped his need. ‘Don't play any more, take all of me!'
She was trying to. God, she was trying to! But she had never been with a man before tonight!
Rand felt like velvet against her, and she knew her body cried out for him, but the barrier of her virginity had to be overcome first, and it was proving more difficult than she had imagined. The books described it as a sharp pain and then, if your lover was considerate enough, the pleasure began. She didn't remember any of them saying it was like this.
Desperation had replaced passion as she once again lowered herself on to Rand, frustration making her
