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He smiled when he saw that her hands were trembling. He buried his face in her hair. "You smell good."

She shifted slightly. The soft firm weight of her thigh settled against his erection. He could tell it was an unintentional move. She had no idea of the impact it had on him.

He thought he would lose it all then, but he managed to hold himself together. He opened the front of her dress and found her breasts. Her nipples budded, firm and proud, against his palms. He heard her sharp intake of breath and a soft half-strangled cry. Her fingers suddenly sank deep into his shoulders. Although they were linked, he could have sworn that iceworks lit up the metaphysical plane.

He surged upward and tumbled her gently onto her back.

"Nick."

His hands shook as he pushed the skirts of her dress up to her waist. He reached between her thighs and discovered that her panties were already damp. He managed to drag the scrap of delicate fabric down her long legs and free of her ankles. She went very still.

He smiled and bent his head to kiss her throat. She sighed and seemed to relax against him.

He was fascinated to discover that her skin felt as soft as it looked in the golden glow of the candles. The dark triangle of curls glittered with moisture. The scent of her body clouded his mind.

He quickly unbuckled his pants and shoved them downward until he could kick them aside.

Zinnia's eyes widened at the sight of his aroused body. "I didn't realize-"

"Touch me," he whispered. He caught her hand and moved it to his rigid penis.

"So strong," she breathed. Hesitantly she encircled him with her fingers. "Hard and strong."

He closed his eyes, set his teeth, and held on to the last shreds of his control with sheer willpower. When she moved her palm, tightening her grasp, he shuddered.

"Don't," he managed. His voice was ragged. "I won't last another second if you do that again."

She released him quickly. "Are you all right?"

He opened his eyes partway and saw that she was genuinely concerned. "Are you kidding? I'm about to disintegrate into a million pieces. I'd rather do it inside you than on the damn blanket."

"Oh."

"That's all you can say? Oh?"

She looked up at him with an uncertainty that he did not understand. Then she smiled tremulously. "What would you like me to say?"

"How about, please make love to me?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Please make love to me, Nick."

"That's better. Much better." He spread her legs widely apart and settled himself between them.

When he glanced down he saw the pink wet folds waiting for him. He stroked the tight swollen nub nestled in the damp curls and felt the shiver that went through her. She was as ready as he was for this.

He could not wait any longer. He parted her, positioned himself, and pushed swiftly into the snug clinging heat of her body.

"Nick."

He did not need her sharp shocked exclamation to bring him to a stunning realization of the truth. But by then it was much too late. He was lodged tightly inside her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was little more than a hoarse croak.

"The subject did not come up," she said through gritted teeth. "Unlike something else around here." She drew a deep breath. A shiver went through her. "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute."

He did not dare to move. He could feel the perspiration on his back. His shoulders were slick with it. "Damn it, you should have told me."

"Really? Did you make a big announcement to all parties concerned on the occasion of your first time?"

He groaned. "If you make me laugh again, we'll both regret it."

"I think I'm okay now."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. Sort of. What about you?"

"Me? I'm feeling a bit faint," he muttered. "I may swoon before this is over."

"The psychic vampire heroes in Orchid Adams's novels never collapse in a faint at the crucial moment."

"Sure, go ahead. Put a little more pressure on me." He began to move carefully within her.

She was still very tight but her body was rapidly adjusting to his. Nick allowed himself to breathe again. He reached down with one hand and trapped the small nub between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged gently.

"Oh, my God." Zinnia clutched at him. Her legs tightened with unmistakable urgency. "Oh, yes. Nick. Oh, yes, please. Nick."

Somehow he found the strength to hold back until he felt the first stirrings of her impending climax. The delicate tremors reached him on the physical plane first, and without conscious thought he sought their echo in the metaphysical realm. He sent out a probe of talent, searching for her, thirsting for her.

And she was there, waiting for him. She touched him with her psychic energy even as she clung to him there on the floor. The prism appeared, clear and dazzling.

He sent energy crashing through the brilliant lens created by Zinnia's mind even as he thrust deeply into her body. He felt her convulse beneath him and he knew he was lost.

So why did he feel as if he had just been found, he wondered as he hurtled headlong into his climax.

Zinnia opened her eyes a long while later. She gazed up at the dark coved ceiling. Nick had his arm around her, cradling her against his side. Moonlight streamed through the undraped windows. Yakima's and Chelan's twin beams accented the sleek planes and angles of Nick's hard lean body and cast his forbidding features into deep shadow.

She felt good, she realized. Lighthearted. Full of hope. Happy. The aftereffects of lovemaking, she warned herself. They wouldn't last. And neither would this strange unsettling sense of an intimate connection to the man beside her. Surely it would vanish now that both the focus and sexual links had been broken.

Gradually she became aware of the deep silence in the great room. Nick had said nothing since he had shuddered and muttered something unintelligible in the throes of his release. In all fairness, she thought, she had not been exactly chatty, herself, there at the end. She had been consumed by the overwhelming experience of lovemaking.

She tried to think of a conversational gambit that would be suitable for a moment like this.

"Does it strike you that this floor is getting hard?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Probably because it's made out of rainstone. The blanket doesn't offer much in the way of cushioning."

Nick turned his head. His eyes were stark in the flickering shadows. "I wasn't talking about the floor."

"In that case, I've lost the thread of the conversation."

"Why did you wait this long to have an affair?"

She felt her cheeks grow warm. "I thought it was only women who were supposed to ask lots of unnecessary questions at times like this."

"It's not an unnecessary question," he said very evenly.

"No one particular reason. Just a lot of little ones. Are you sure you really want to hear them?"

"Yes. Every single one of them."

"I see." A flicker of wariness made her suddenly cautious. "Well, timing was part of it, I suppose. Four years ago I was involved with a man. His name was Sterling Dean. Vice-president in my family's company. All-around great kisser."

"Great kisser?"

She cleared her throat. "Yes, well, we had a lot in common. We talked about marriage." She paused. "But things didn't work out."

"Because you were declared unmatchable by the marriage agency?"

"That kind of verdict tends to make a man think twice," she said. "And it gave me a lot to think about, too. After all, being unmatchable works both ways. If I'm not a good match for someone else, it means no one is a good match for me."

He was silent for a moment. "I see what you mean."

"At any rate, shortly after that, my parents were lost at sea. Spring Industries went into bankruptcy. Then I was very busy getting my own business up and running and making sure Leo could stay in school. I was just starting to get on top of things when the Eaton scandal hit."