How could that be right? “Oh, God, Paige…”

“Josh, please,” she begged in a sexy, throaty voice that wreaked havoc with his sanity. She dragged her tongue across her lush bottom lip, pink and swollen from his kiss.

The craziness of wanting her started all over again. When he opened his mouth to issue a protest, she cut him off.

“Don’t say anything.” Her beautiful gaze beseeched him in a way no words could. “I need you to make me forget. Just for tonight.” Grasping the hem of her sweater, she pulled it over her head and dropped it on the floor, leaving her clad in a pretty bra that he could see right through, and leggings that molded to her hips and long legs. Her hair tumbled in tousled, sensual disarray around her shoulders.

Denying her became a distant thought. Loving her and giving her a safe haven for the night became his sole purpose. Holding her gaze, he reached out and slid his fingers from the pulse fluttering in her throat, down the slope of a perfectly curved breast cupped in sheer floral lace, across a taut nipple-and heard her breath catch in her throat-and continued to the front clasp of her bra. He hesitated, knowing with this one action, he was agreeing to her terms.

Just for tonight.

He’d never been one for one-night stands, and his feelings for Paige made what was about to happen even more complicated. But he couldn’t walk away. Not when they needed each other so much.

With a flick of his thumb and index finger he unhooked her bra, watching as the sides separated to reveal pale mounds of flesh tipped with dark centers. His gut clenched, and he spontaneously buried both hands in her thick, luxurious hair and brought her mouth back to his.

He meant to go slow and savor every kiss, every sigh, every nuance of what made her so special, so sweet. He meant to wallow in her softness, her feminine scent, her response to his touch. He meant to show her just how much she meant to him, and take the time to worship her with his hands, his mouth, his sex.

Those good intentions fled the moment her lips parted beneath his and she sucked his tongue into her mouth. She was too needy to go at a leisurely pace, too out of control to tame. So he let her dictate how far she wanted to go, how wild and fast she wanted this ride to be.

The tempest of the rain and wind outside was nothing compared to the velocity gathering momentum between them. The frenzied way Paige’s hands explored his chest, skimmed down the flat plane of his belly, then tugged impatiently on the drawstring of his sweatpants left Josh no time to think about getting her to a nice, soft bed. Where he took Paige didn’t seem to matter to her. She was too caught up in her own private urgency to care. Her flattened palms smoothed into the waistband, loosening the drawstring, giving her more slack to glide her hands inside to seek warmer, harder flesh.

Knowing he was a goner if she so much as touched his straining erection, he abruptly pulled her with him to the plush carpeting. They ended up on their knees in front of the crackling fire, facing each other, their mouths still fused, tongues mating. He cupped her full breasts and caressed them with his hands, rolled her nipples between his fingers. She whimpered, and tugged at his sweatpants again.

He broke their kiss and grabbed at her groping hands. “Not yet, sweetheart,” he murmured, and pressed her down, until she was lying before him. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her leggings, he swept them and her panties down her long legs, tossing the clothing aside.

And then he sat back and looked his fill, awed by her loveliness, and the trusting way she parted her thighs for him to slide in between. Firelight warmed her skin to a shimmery peach hue and spun gold in her hair and the thatch of curls covering her femininity. She was all supple curves, endlessly long limbs, and sexy as hell.

He’d wanted her for so long, and now she was his.

His gaze gradually climbed back up to her face, stopping to admire each attribute on the way. “You’re absolutely beautiful,” he told her, and guessed by the flush staining her cheeks that Anthony hadn’t told her that often enough.

And because he didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, and the days following, he set about showing her just how alluring he found her, how desirable, how delicious. He lavished every inch of her in kisses, starting at her instep, moving to the arousing spot behind her knee, and dragging his mouth along thighs that quaked in anticipation. His tongue dipped into her navel, laved her breasts, then he suckled her nipple deep into his mouth. With a strangled cry, she plowed her fingers through his hair and held him to her, her body moving insistently beneath his.

He didn’t give in to her silent demands. He wasn’t done with his exploration. Her sensitive neck was a delight he thoroughly enjoyed, her mouth a treasure trove of erotic pleasures he indulged in. He hadn’t known French kisses could taste so damn good. With her, they held the flavor of heaven, the essence of forever.

The sweet, delicate taste reminded him of the only other place he hadn’t sampled; he’d deliberately saved the best for last. He sat up between her knees and shimmied the rest of the way out of his sweatpants. But instead of sliding over and into her, he took a more brazen approach he wasn’t sure she’d approve of. She didn’t stop him when he used his palms and caressed from her bent knee to her thighs and slowly guided her legs further apart. Didn’t object when he lowered his mouth and nuzzled her, and drew deeply of her scent. Didn’t protest when he slicked his thumb over petal-soft folds damp with her arousal. Didn’t demur when his tongue joined in the foray and stroked her intimately.

She closed her eyes on a sigh and entwined her fingers in his hair, shamelessly letting him have his way with her. There were no barriers between them, no restrictions. The moan of complete surrender that purred in her throat, her openness and the unconditional faith she gave him humbled him like nothing in his life ever had. Those elements also drove him on, made him ruthless in taking what he wanted.

It didn’t take her long to find a shattering release, one that made her cry out and tremble and push frantically against his shoulders at the intensity of such an allconsuming orgasm. He rode out the climax with her, taking her all the way.

Only when she’d touched back down to earth did he ease his body over hers, bracing his forearms on either side of her head.

He caught a glimpse of fever-bright eyes before her lashes drifted downward, concealing her emotions. His jaw hardened in resolve.

Gently grasping her face between his palms, he held her so she couldn’t turn away, so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Look at me, Paige,” he said, his tone slightly gruff. It wasn’t a matter of her knowing who was about to make love to her-instinctively he knew he’d given her more in the last half hour than Anthony had in three years of marriage-but no way was he going to let her retreat into herself after what they’d just shared…and certainly not before what they were going to share.

Her eyes opened, and a myriad of emotions danced in the reflection of dying firelight. Most prominent was the deep, painful heartache he’d contributed to this evening, and an ocean of longing he believed he was a direct part of. There wasn’t much he could do about the first emotion, but he could cater to the second.

Her hands slipped down the slope of his back, over his buttocks, rocking him closer, until the tip of his shaft penetrated ever-so-slightly.

She shuddered and arched. “Josh, come inside me,” she said in a wispy voice.

The image her words incited were powerful enough to make him do just that. Literally. Before he had the luxury of sheathing himself within her. But he didn’t want their time together to end so quickly, didn’t want the night, this moment, to slip away anytime soon. So, he bent his head and kissed her. Slow and wet and rapacious, making her wild again, making him burn, building them both toward the completion of everything that had come before.

She was ready for him, and he couldn’t wait a second longer.

She was so tight, so snug, that the first deep plunging thrust took them both by surprise. She gasped sharply as her body stretched to accommodate his size, his length. He groaned as her passage softened around him, accepted him, enveloped him until he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. She was as primed as a woman could be, yet there was a certain resistance thai came from a long period of abstinence.

Then all thought fled as she began undulating he hips, making him slide deeper still, submersing him in silky heat. With a rough groan, he caught her heels and pulled her legs tight around his hips. The position offered him greater access, and he took advantage of it, giving her the wild ride she wanted.

She nipped at his jaw aggressively, then gently sank her teeth into his neck, only to soothe the bite with her tongue. He felt that slow, wet lap all the way to his groin. He grew harder, impossibly thicker. Tossing his head back, he pumped rhythmically, over and over driving toward completion.

He felt the first tiny quiver of her release convulse around him, heard a sob break from her throat along with his name. He opened his eyes and looked down just in time to see the ecstacy and pleasure on her face as she came for him. That was all it took. His own climax slammed into him, powerful and unrelenting, until finally he buried his face in her neck and let out a long, spent groan.

He lay there on top of her, still inside her, awed by the indescribable feelings their lovemaking evoked Never, with any of the women he’d ever slept with, had he ever experienced such fire and passion-or such a primal need to possess.

But then he’d never loved a woman the way he loved Paige, and that made all the difference between sex and making love.

Wanting the precious, simple moment to last a little while longer before reality intruded, he pressed warm kisses on her neck. A shiver raced through her body, making her breasts swell beneath the crush of his chest.

He found himself smiling, and took great satisfaction in her automatic response. She stroked his hair, his relaxed shoulders, the firm slope of his back, keeping him close. Her legs remained entwined with his, giving him no indication she wanted him to leave her. His body quickened.

And then he felt something warm and wet seep against the hand still buried into her hair at the side of her face. Frowning, he lifted his head and stared into luminous green eyes filled with silent tears. She blinked and another single drop escaped.

His heart wrenched in his chest. He brushed the moisture away with his thumb, wondering at the source of those tears. “Paige?” he questioned.

A watery smile curved her mouth. “Don’t ask me to explain what even I don’t understand,” she said, brushing her fingers along his jaw, right where she’d walloped him earlier. Her touch was soothing, but the look in her eyes was troubled. “Let’s chalk it up to a very emotional night.”

Her tears were a natural release after everything she’d been through that evening, he told himself, but he couldn’t help but wonder, and worry, about the change to their relationship after what they’d just shared. They’d crossed boundaries and become lovers in a time of need. What would happen now? Would this be a one-night stand, or the beginning of something special for them?

Tomorrow would tell.

That simple thought led to another more complicated issue-the fact that he’d yet to tell Paige that Anthony’s perfidy had put her life at risk.

Knowing her fragile emotional state couldn’t withstand more shocking news, he decided the morning would be soon enough to discuss things. Moving off her, he stood. She sat up, too, reaching for her sweater.

He found her bout of modesty endearing, but unnecessary. “You don’t need that, sweetheart. I’ve seen everything there is to see.” Catching her hand before it closed around the article of clothing, he gave her an easy tug until she was standing before him in all her naked glory.

Letting out a breath that did nothing to ease the surge of heat heading straight to his groin, he glanced away and started toward the hall, pulling her along. “Come on, let’s put you to bed.”

She’d transformed the master bedroom from what had been a masculine domain into a feminine haven, her touch evident throughout. The furniture was frilly and Victorian, as was the four-poster bed. Lacy curtains framed the window, and the bedspread was made of mauve silk with matching ruffled pillows, which he tossed onto the brocade chair in the corner of the room. He pulled back the covers, waited until she slipped between the sheets, then adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.