From the Heart by Nora Roberts Page A

loosening the third button.
    “The one thing I don’t think you could possibly do is bore me.”
    Kasey’s fingers stopped, and her smile spread slowly. “Thank you, Jordan. That’s a very nice thing to say.”
    Deliberately, he took his fingers to the top button of her own shirt. “But if I were to tell you that you were the most generous, the most genuine, person I’ve ever known, you’d change the subject.”
    The warmth filled her and clouded her brain. She didn’t know how to answer, was terrified she would overreact and spoil the moment. Being in love, she discovered, made it more difficult to harness the emotions—and more necessary. “Yes, I imagine I would. I’d probably say something like, ‘Where do you get your shirts? This material is really marvelous.’ ”
    “Kasey.” Her eyes came back to his. “You’re beautiful.”
    She laughed at that, instantly more at ease. “No, I’m not.”
    “You have a dimple at the right corner of your mouth when you smile. When you’re aroused, your eyes darken and cloud so that the gold in them vanishes.”
    She could feel her pulse start to hammer, her skin flush with heat. “Are you trying to unnerve me, Jordan?”
    “Oh, yes.” He slipped her shirt from her shoulders. Then he took his hands down her breasts to her waist. “Am I?”
    She was trembling. It stunned her. He had barely touched her, and her body was throbbing for him. He had too much power over her, in every aspect—heart, body and mind. She resisted it. She had given him her love but refused to surrender her strength. He had to want her every bit as much as she wanted him. Kasey loosened his last button.
    “You unnerve me, Jordan,” she whispered and ran her hands up, slowly, over his stomach, ribs and chest. She could feel his muscles go taut under her palms. As she drew off his shirt, she pressed her lips to his shoulder. “You make me ache.” She trailed her fingertips back down his sides and took her lips to his throat. “You make me want.” She unhooked his slacks and let her fingers guide them over his hips. As her lips traveled down his throat, she heard his low moan of pleasure. She pulled him to the floor.
    Passion had tastes. His skin was hot and moist from it where she kissed him. She could feel the thud of his heart under her tongue. It was like a dream. Her body was drugged, but her mind was active. She wanted to know all of him—what pleased, what aroused. She followed instinct, letting her hands roam; when she felt a response, she let them linger. His body was well-muscled and lean, and it excited her. His needs excited her. She could feel them pouring out of him. For this one moment of time he was as vulnerable as she.
    She left a slow, lingering trail of kisses as she journeyed back to his throat. His breathing roared in her ears. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he groaned her name and pulled her mouth to his. Passion exploded in the kiss. She felt it whipping at her—an incredible mixture of pain and delight. His teeth dug into her lip, and she moaned. This was no dream, but shattering reality. His hands were suddenly roughand bruising as he pushed her on her back. He entered her swiftly, violently, and plunged her over the edge of reason. She went with him, clinging, helpless, strong. She knew she had stopped breathing. They were fused together by damp skin and desire. They rose and crested, again and again, until there were only drained bodies and empty minds.
    He lay on top of her, his face buried in her hair, unable to move, though he knew she was too slight for his weight. Her body was still trembling lightly under his. Jordan lifted his head. He wanted to see her in the full light of day, after his loving.
    Her face was soft, her eyes still misted. He felt a pain, both unexpected and sharp, slam into his stomach. She smiled, and the pain grew. Could he want her again? So quickly? Surely that would explain the ache he felt by just looking at her. He lowered