"From the subject we need to discuss."

"You want to discuss something?" She hauled in a breath and tried to steady her giddy head.

Vane trapped her gaze. "You. Me." His face hardened. "Us."

With a supreme effort, Patience raised her brows. "What about 'us'?"

A muscle in his jaw flickered. From the corner of her eye, she saw his fist clench. "I," he declared, "have reached the end of my tether."

He stepped toward her; she took a sliding step back.

"I do not approve of any situation that leaves you a target for the likes of such as the Colbys-regardless of whether said situation arises from my actions or otherwise." His lips a thin line, he stepped forward; Patience instinctively edged back. "I cannot, and will not, condone any scenario whereby your reputation is in any way sullied-even by me with the best of intentions."

He continued to stalk her; she continued to retreat. Patience longed to whirl around and scurry out of his reach, but she didn't dare take her eyes from his. "What are you doing here then?"

She was trapped, mesmerized-she knew he'd soon pounce. As if to confirm that, his eyes narrowed, and he tugged his shirt from his waistband. Without taking his eyes from her, he started undoing the buttons, still advancing, still forcing her to retreat. Toward the bed.

"I'm here"-he bit the words off-"because I can't see any sense in being anywhere else. You're mine-henceforth, you sleep with me. As you're sleeping here at the moment, ergo, so do I. If my bed is not yet yours, then yours will have to be mine."

"You just said you didn't want my reputation sullied."

His shirt fell fully open. He continued to advance. Patience didn't know where to look. Where she most wanted to look.

"Precisely. So you'll have to marry me. Soon. Which is what we need to discuss." With that, he looked down, and unlaced his cuffs.

Poised to seize the moment to dash to safety, Patience froze. "I don't have to marry you."

He looked up, and stripped off his shirt. "Not in that sense, no. But for you, marriage to me is inevitable. All we need to determine-what we are going to determine-tonight-is what it's going to take to make you agree."

His shirt hit the floor-he stepped forward.

Belatedly, Patience scurried three steps back-and fetched up against the bedpost. Before she could whisk around it, Vane was there, reaching around her, hands locking about the post behind her. Trapping her within the circle of his arms, facing him, and his bare chest.

Dragging in a desperate breath, Patience locked her eyes on his. "I told you-I will not simply marry you."

"I think I can guarantee there'll be nothing simple about our marriage."

Patience opened her lips on an acid retort-he sealed them, with a kiss so potent by the time he raised his head, she was clinging for dear life to the bedpost.

"Just listen." He said the words against her lips, as if they were forced from him.

Patience stilled. Her heart thumping wildly, she waited. He didn't straighten, or draw away. Lids lowered, her gaze fixed on his lips, she watched the words form as he spoke.

"I'm renowned within the ton as being cool under fire-around you, I'm never cool. I'm heated-I seethe-I burn with desire. If I'm in the same room, all I can think about is heat-your heat-and how you'll feel around me."

Patience felt the heat rise, a real force between them.

"I've gained the reputation of being the soul of discretion-now look at me. I've seduced my godmother's niece-and been seduced by her. I share her bed openly, even under my godmother's roof." His lips twisted wryly. "So much for discretion."'

He drew a deep breath; his chest brushed her breasts.

"And as for my vaunted, up-until-you legendary control-the instant I'm inside you that evaporates like water on hot steel."

What prompted her Patience never knew. His lips were so close-with her teeth, she nipped the lower. "I told you to let go-I won't break."

The tension, pouring off him in waves, eased, just a little. He sighed, and rested his forehead on hers. "It's not that." After a moment, he went on, "I don't like losing control-it's like losing myself-in you."

She felt him gather himself, felt the tension swell and coalesce about them.

"It's giving myself to you-so that I'm in your keeping."

The words, low and gravelly, rolled through her; closing her eyes, she drew in a shallow breath. "And you don't like doing that."

"I don't like it-but I crave it. I don't approve of it, yet I yearn for it." His words feathered her cheek, then his lips touched hers. "Do you understand? I haven't any choice."

Patience felt his chest swell as he drew a deep breath.

"I love you."

She shivered, eyes shut tight, and felt the world shift about her.

"Losing myself in you-giving my heart and soul into your keeping-is part of that."

His lips brushed hers in an inexpressibly tender caress.

"Trusting you is part of that. Telling you I love you is part of that."

His lips touched hers again; Patience didn't wait for more. She kissed him. Letting go of the post, she slid her hands up, framing his face, so she could let him know-let him feel-her response to all he'd said.

He felt it, sensed it-and reacted; his arms locked tight about her. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. All she cared about was the emotion that held them, that flowed so effortlessly between them.

Silver and gold, it wound about them, investing each touch with its magic. Silver and gold, it shimmered about them, and quivered in their fractured breaths. It was immediate compulsion and future promise, heavenly delight and earthly pleasure. It was here and now-and forever.

With a soft oath, Vane drew back and stripped off his trousers. Released, Patience lowered her arms and let her shawl fall, then tugged the tie of her nightgown free. A quick shift and a shrug sent the silk sliding to the floor.

Vane straightened-she stepped into his arms, setting her naked limbs to his.

He sucked in a breath, then let it out in a groan as she stretched sinuously against him. He wrapped her in his arms and bent his head to hers; their lips met, and desire ran free.

He lifted her and laid her on the sheets, and followed her down. She welcomed him to her, took him into her body with joyous abandon.

And this time, there was no holding back, no reticence, no control, no vestige of rational thought. Passion and desire bloomed, then ran riot. They were one-in mind, in thought, in deed. Pleasure for one was the other's delight. They gave themselves, again and again, and still found more to give.

And over and between ran the shimmering glory, stronger than steel and more precious than pearls.

When they crested the final wave, and clung to each other as the maelstrom took them, it intensified and filled them. Until all existence became that wondrous glow; as they drifted, deeply sated, into dreamless sleep, it settled over them.

A blessing-the most desired of benedictions.

What followed was entirely Myst's fault.

Vane woke, as he had once before, to discover the small cat once again curled on his chest, purring furiously. Sleepily sated, he scratched one grey ear while waiting for his senses to refocus. His limbs were heavy with deep satiation-a drugging glow still filled him. He glanced toward the window. The sky had started to lighten.

He and Patience needed to talk.

Vane lifted his hand from Myst's ear.

The cat promptly flexed her claws.

Vane hissed-and glared. "Your claws are more lethal than your mistress's."

"Hmm?" Heavy-eyed, Patience emerged from beneath the sheets.

Vane waved at Myst. "I was about to ask if you'd consider removing your resident predator."

Patience stared at him, then blinked, and looked down. "Oh. Myst." Fighting free of the tangled sheets, she leaned over and scooped Myst up. "Off, Myst. Come on." Wriggling, Patience slid fully across Vane-her hips slid over his-as Vane sucked in an agonized breath.

Patience grinned, and dropped Myst over the side of the bed. "Off you go." She watched the cat stalk off, offended, then, entirely deliberately, wriggled back across Vane.

And stopped halfway.

"Hmm." Finding her lips level with one flat nipple, she stuck out her tongue and licked. The jolt that shook him made her smile. "Interesting."

She uttered the word as she wriggled some more, so her torso was more or less atop him, her legs sliding over his.

Vane frowned. "Patience…"

Warm flesh encased in smooth satin slithered over his hips, over the rigid length of his erection. Vane blinked, several times, and tried to recall what he'd been about to say.

"Hmm?"

Patience's tone suggested she had other things on her mind: She was busily trailing warm, openmouthed kisses down his increasingly tense torso.

Jaw setting, Vane gathered his resolve-and reached for her. "Patience, we need to-" A groan cut off his words-he was almost surprised to recognize it as his. Muscle after muscle tensed and locked. Lust roared through him-in response to her artless, inquisitive touch, to the husky chuckle she gave. Soft fingers trailed up his rigid length, then slid about him and tentatively closed. She traced and caressed, then explored further, squirming downward as she did-clearly delighted by his helpless reaction.

Rigid to his toes, Vane jerked as she circled his sensitive, swollen head. "Good God, woman! What…?" His voice suspended as she reached further still, and closed her hand. Vane groaned, and closed his eyes. The inside of his lids burned with raging lust.

He dragged in a desperate breath, and reached down, fighting through the tangled sheets to try to capture her hand. She chuckled again and eluded him easily; he slumped back, breathing too fast. His limbs had turned heavy, weighted with lust, burning with desire.

"Don't you like it?" The teasing question, clearly rhetorical, floated up from under the sheets. Then she squirmed again. "Perhaps you'd like this better."

Vane did, but he wasn't about to say so. Gritting his teeth, he suffered the hot, wet sweep of her tongue, the gentle caress of her lips. She didn't have the faintest idea what she was doing-thank God. What she was doing was bad enough. If expertise was added to the equation, he'd be dead.

He tried to remind himself that the experience was hardly new to him-the rationalization didn't work. He couldn't distance himself from Patience's touch, couldn't imagine she was some faceless lady with whom he was sharing a bed. No logic seemed strong enough to quench or control the fire she was igniting.

He heard himself gasp. He licked lips suddenly dry. "Where the devil did you get the idea…?"

"I heard some maids talking."

Inwardly cursing all wanton maids, he summoned the last of his strength. She'd gone far enough. Jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached, he reached for her. Beneath the soft sheets, he found her head; he threaded his fingers through her hair, searching downward for her shoulders.

Beneath his hands, she shifted.

Hot wetness closed about him.

His fingers spasmed and clutched. The rest of his body reacted equally predictably. For one instant, Vane thought he'd die. Of heart failure. Then she released him. He groaned-and she took him into her mouth again. Eyes closed, he fell back on the pillows, and surrendered.

She had him at her mercy.

She knew it-she set about enjoying her newfound mastery. To the hilt. Extrapolating wantonly. Inventing with gay abandon.

Until, with a desperate groan, he was driven to expend his last ounce of strength and capture her, wrestle free, and find her waist and lift her. Over him. He lowered her, expertly nudging into the slick flesh between her thighs. Then he pulled her down, impaling her on the achingly urgent phallus she'd spent the last ten minutes inciting.

She gasped, then sank farther, her hands fastening tight about his forearms as she deliberately took him all. She rose on her knees immediately, pushing his hands from her, refusing to allow him to set the pace.

He acquiesced, filling his hands with her breasts instead, drawing the tight peaks to his mouth. She rode him with reckless abandon; he filled her and feasted, until, in a glorious, giddy rush, they fell over the edge of the world and, locked together, plunged into the selfless void.