He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. The strength of him, warm and strong against her back, felt too good to tell him no. He was right; whatever this thing was between them, it tempted her to throw away her fears, her convictions, and give in to her desires. Though the memory of Jean's betrayal still remained, Max seemed different. He'd cared for her when she'd been so ill. He seemed genuine, honest, and caring. And more alluring than any man she'd ever known.

  “Are you looking for me?” she said, her voice husky as she leaned into his body, the feel of his might seeping into her bones, spreading a heat through her.

  The moon cast shadows through the lattice of the open building as he pulled her tight against him, the solidness of his chest a comforting shelter. She felt protected and cared for, feelings she hadn't experienced since childhood.

  “I didn't know where you were going. I was beginning to worry,” he said, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

  Max placed his lips against her ear, the warmth of his breath stirring the tendrils of her hair. “Is this part of Rosewood?”

  His low husky voice touched her in places she knew sound could not reach. She must concentrate and refuse to let the beams of the moonlight weave a seductive spell over her and Max. Yet images filled her mind, of the two of them entwined in each other's arms, naked and wanting.

  Concentrate!

  “Yes, the last owner of Rosewood built this, but he died before he finished it,” she said, her voice quivering with desire and longing.

  She swallowed as she felt Max's hand move up and touch her breast through her dress. The pad of his thumb rubbed against the hard kernel of her nipple, and she drew a sharp intake of air. Her breathing quickened and she tried to resist the feelings of arousal his stroke created. Though his touch could melt her into a puddle, she couldn't let him dissolve her will. “I've only been able to have the gazebo redone and start...”

  His lips trailed down her neck, pushing the lace aside, touching the spot that caused a shiver to ripple through her. “... the work on ...”

  He kissed the top of her shoulder. She tilted her neck over to the side to give him easier access, unable to resist the sensations his lips created. “. . . the garden ...”

  “You really love this place, don't you?” he said, lifting her breasts in his hands, the pads of his thumbs continuing the erotic circles on her nipples through her dress. He pressed himself against her buttocks, letting her feel the fullness of his erection through her skirt, and she gasped, the sound deep and husky in the night.

  “Yes ... I do,” she, said her mind unable to concentrate or even form coherent sentences.

  As he turned her to face him, his lips came crushing down on hers, hard and demanding.

  Part of her wanted to run and hide from the fierce, insistent emotions that Max incited, while another part of her wanted to succumb to those same feelings, explore this inexplicable yearning, and see if her experience with Max could be different.

  All rational thought fled as she quit fighting her internal struggle and opened herself up to the full experience of Max's kiss. She was incapable of denying herself the pure sensation she felt in his embrace. She wound her arms around his neck, her knees feeling weak as his sensuous tongue invaded her mouth, arousing places of pleasure not even near her lips.

  She opened her mouth fully, giving herself completely over to the mindless stimulus that the hot press of his lips commanded.

  He reached behind her, his fingers deftly unbuttoning her dress. He broke the kiss and pulled the front of her dress down, his lips following the path of the material until he reached the tops of her breasts. His lips fastened around the kernel of her nipple, suckling her breast until Nicole thought the heat from his mouth would sear her in two. Passion emanated from her center, causing a moan to spill from between her lips.

  He grasped her breasts in his hands, his palms radiating with warmth as he kneaded her, his lips caressing her until she thought she would scream from the pleasure. She'd sworn to never again give herself to any man, but she wanted Max more than anything she'd ever craved in her life.

  His hand lifted her skirts, bunching them up until the frothy whiteness of her petticoat glistened in the moonlight, his fingers urgently seeking the slit in her drawers. When his fingers found her center, she arched her back, a sigh of surrender escaping her lips.

  Never before had Nicole felt so feminine, so completely woman to a man. There would be no denying her body this pleasure, or denying her soul this need. There would be no denying the joining of their bodies.

  “This is what we've been destined for since the day we met,” Max whispered against her mouth.

  “Max,” she said, her breathing harsh, her voice husky with need. “I want you.”

  “I've waited so long for you,” he said, his voice rough and deep.

  With a yank, his suit coat came off and he laid it down on the bench. In the darkness, she could hear him removing his clothes until the moonlight danced across his gleaming muscular profile. Like a moon god he stood before her, proud and strong.

  His hands moved to remove her dress from her waist, sliding the silk down her body. He held her hand as she stepped out of the full dress and tossed it to the side. Next he untied her petticoats and released them from her body, dropping them to the floor. Slowly he undid her corset, loosening the strings enough to pull the garment off her body.

  He kissed the back of her neck and down her collarbone until his lips found her chemise. When he started to pull off the filmy garment she halted his hand.

  “Wait,” she said, feeling suddenly shy to be naked in front of this man.

  Max sat down on the bench and pulled her onto his lap, his lips covering hers with a kiss that seared the questions quickly forming in her mind.

  She didn't want to think, because if she thought about what they were doing, she'd stop him. All she wanted was to continue feeling this passion that only Max created.

  With one hand he tenderly cupped her chin as he slanted his mouth over hers, the damp heat of his lips engulfing hers, singeing her to the tips of her toes. She leaned against the rock hardness of his chest, his body absorbing her weight. He lay down on the bench, taking her with him, and rolled her to the inside. They lay side by side, with just her chemise, drawers, and stockings between them.

  Max made her feel alive, he gave her hope with his gentle touch and kind words.

  He untied the top part of the filmy garment and pushed the material aside to find the tip of her breast He drew the nub into his heated mouth, and laved the pebbled kernel of her nipple, his tongue drawing erotic circles. His fingers searched and found the slit in her lacy white drawers and delved into the center of her being, teasing her mercilessly. She gasped and arched her back toward his hand, needing to feel the magic his touch created once more.

  Every sense in her body craved Max, wanted him, and needed him as he awakened each nerve. Wherever their skin touched and every place his lips stroked, all burned with sensuous warmth that pooled in a flood of liquid heat between her legs.

  But still he lingered, the heat of his mouth caressing her breasts, while his hand tortured her with pleasure. She reached down and touched his manhood, needing to feel him with her hands.

  Nicole grasped him and heard Max's swift intake of breath. “Nicole!”

  She ran her hand up and down the length of him, feeling the strength of him beneath her hands. In the shadow of the moonlight she watched the pleasure on his face with each stroke as she touched him.

  Suddenly he rolled her beneath him on the bench and yanked off her chemise and drawers, leaving only her stockings and garters. He parted her thighs and pushed his own legs between hers, his naked skin sensuous against the nylon.

  Nicole lifted her hips to meet his thrust as he entered her swiftly. A sigh of completion escaped her lips as she felt the fullness of his arousal, her mind numb with the pleasure.

  He felt so natural, so complete, as she clutched at his back, her hands gripping him tightly. With each slide and twist the tension built, her mind dizzy from champagne and gratification. Her sighs of pleasure changed into feverish moans with each primal stroke until Nicole felt they were as one.

  As he slid within her body, she welcomed him into her heart. With each stroke Max replaced Nicole's memories with new, better ones of their own.

  She felt numb, her passion spiraling higher and higher until in a moment of shattering release she tumbled out of control, crying out his name. The world seemed to splinter into a thousand strands of silvery light as she came crashing back to earth, all thoughts of how lovemaking should be replaced by thoughts of Max.

  He swelled within her and clutched her to him one last time as he cried out her name, his voice rough and husky, his body tense, and then he relaxed.

  She lay in his arms, stunned, trying to catch her breath, amazed at what she'd just experienced with Max. The soft pitter-patter of rain splattered against the roof of the gazebo seeping into her passion-numbed mind. The damp, cleansing breeze blew into the little building, bringing a sense of renewal.

  Never in her life had she experienced such a night of ardor that left her so complete. Never had she felt so loved.

  She gazed at Max, who lay breathing hard, his dark eyes watching her in the moonlight. He reached out and stroked her cheek with his fingers.

  A chill began to seep into her bones and she shivered in his arms. What would they do now?

  “Cold?” he asked, kissing her cheek as he slid down beside her on the bench.

  “Yes,” she said, reaching for her dress to cover herself, a feeling of awkwardness overcoming her. Her heart pounded with fear as she realized suddenly the vulnerable position in which she'd just placed her healed emotions.

  Max wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close and covering her with his body, then pulled her dress over the two of them like a coverlet. “Better?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she said, trying to resist the urge to jump up and run to the house, away from the feelings Max evoked.

  “I always thought our first time would be in a bed, but I must say, this is so much more memorable,” he said, kissing her temple. “This thing between us is so different from anything I've ever experienced.”

  “I never thought there would be a first time,” she said, her voice quivering with fear.

  The doubts began to assail her as she lay there by his side, all her misgivings overwhelming her. “How long will the physical pleasure between us last? Especially when you leave after the crop comes in.”

  ***

  The next morning, Nicole woke to the sound of birds screeching their noisy cackles at one another. She opened her eyes, feeling like something was different and the memories from the night before swamped her.

  She sat up in bed, instantly regretting her quick motion. “Oh, my God.”

  Not only did her head pound this morning from the champagne, but the memory of her impulsive actions from the night before made her moan. How could she have been so stupid as to make love with Max? Had she lost all common sense?

  Thank goodness he hadn't argued with her once they reached the house and had gone to his own room, giving her time to wonder how to face this awkward situation. She needed to adjust to the thought of having marital relations with her husband. Relations she'd never intended on fulfilling. She needed to consider how this would affect their business relationship.

  Yet even now at the thought of him, her body seemed to thrum with awareness. She flung back the quilt, unable to lie in bed a moment more.

  Hurriedly she dressed and splashed cold water over her face before walking the short distance to the dining room. She felt so confused. She wanted to see him, yet she knew she needed to resist these feelings. Hadn't she learned they only led to heartache? Why would she want to let herself be hurt yet again? Eventually he would leave and she would be alone.

  As she walked across the parlor to the dining room, she almost ran smack into Max. She felt irritable and stupid for letting the champagne and the moonlight go to her head and making love to her husband. For a moment they stared at one another. She watched the expression on his face, trying to decipher how he felt about her this morning.

  “Good morning,” he said, his green eyes watching her. “I hope you slept well.”

  “Not really,” she lied, knowing it'd been ages since she'd slept so deeply, so soundly. “I tossed and turned all night, and then this morning I woke with a throbbing headache.”

  He smiled. “Drink some coffee. It'll make you feel better.”

  “I don't want coffee,” she snapped as she pushed past him into the dining room. “I don't know what I want this morning.”

  Patiently, he followed her. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in close to her ear, his breath brushing against her lobe, sending shivers through her. “I slept very well last night, dreaming of you.” Part of her thrilled at his words, while yet another part reacted with fear. Would Max become another Jean and betray her also?

  She tried to pull out of his arms, but he only let her turn until she faced him, wearing a frown. “I'm glad to hear you slept well, but dreams are only illusions. They never last, just like yesterday is gone forever.” He shook his head. “No, last night will live on in my memories until I depart this earth.”

  Nicole pulled out of his arms and walked across the room, trying to put distance between them so she could clear her mind of the dangerous emotions his touch ignited. His words frightened her. They sounded so promising and final. Between his touch and his words, her thoughts became scrambled and whatever control she possessed over her body seemed to melt away. She couldn't let this happen a second time. She just couldn't face him again.

  She walked around the table and picked up a plate before going to the sideboard where breakfast waited. Food didn't interest her, but she needed something to occupy her hands, needed the space between them, needed to control her drumming heart.

  “From your silence am I to gather that last night doesn't hold special memories for you?” he asked, his voice questioning and uncertain.

  How should she respond? If she said yes, then things would become so much more complicated than they already were. But if she said no, she'd lie. She turned her back to him and took a deep breath, not knowing how to react, afraid of her honest response, not wanting to face him and let him see that the night had affected her in ways that frightened her.

  She kept her back to him. “I don't know what to say. Last night should never have happened. You and I both know this is impossible. You're leaving. And I'm never involving myself with a man again.”

  Max approached her, and spun her around to face him. Nicole felt an incredible ache to put down her plate and slide her arms around him, letting him hold her and soothe away her fears. She resisted. Succumbing to her impulses again would not make the situation any easier.

  He lifted her chin with his hand until their gazes locked. “We're married. What happened between us last night most couples do several times a week. Why do you still refuse to accept this feeling between us? You can't deny that there is something there. We both feel it.”

  “You know why,” she said, frustrated, pulling her face from his hand, though her chin tingled from his touch. “I never want to let a man get close enough to hurt me ever again. Don't you see that every man I've ever known has only brought me grief? Why would I want to risk that pain all over again?”

  “I'm not your father, Nicole, and I'm not Jean.”

  “No, you're not. But if I let you get close to me, then I give you the opportunity to wound me just like the others. I've already let you way too close.”

  Max stood there gazing at her, his emerald eyes shadowy. “So what are you going to do? Spend the rest of your life hiding away? Never risking or receiving love ever again? Do you want to be alone all your life?”

  Nicole shook her head. “I don't know what I want right now. All I know is that the simple arrangement I made with you to be the father of my child has turned into something I never expected.”

  “Do you think I thought this would happen?” he asked, calmly walking up beside her, his hand lightly touching her arm. “We're married. We could have a good life together you and I,” he said. “Maybe even have a couple of children.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the pain of his words. She'd wanted children so badly, and he was giving her the opportunity, but she was so afraid to trust in him, to give him her heart. Could she put the past behind her and trust her heart to a drifter? “This is not what I planned.”

  “No, it's better,” he said, more determined.

  She opened her eyes, held up her hand, and walked away from him. “I can't talk about this right now. I need some time to think, to sort things out.” She took a deep breath. “You'll be here through the harvest. Let's just try to keep things as they were until after the harvest. Then we'll talk again. Please, give me this time. I have to be certain.”

  He crossed the room to her side. Placing his hand on her jaw, he lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “I'll give you your time. But I'm not giving up pursuing you. I want you as my wife, Nicole. I want our marriage to last.”

  ***

  Max fairly skipped down the front stairs on his way to the barn. There was a bounce in his step this morning that hadn't been there in previous days. A warmth lingered from the night before when he thought of Nicole, his wife.

  Last night had been exquisite. And even this morning though Nicole at first seemed insolent and difficult, in the end she appeared to listen to his reasoning. Hopefully, during the next few weeks before the harvest, he could prove to her that their marriage could work. That they could be happy together.

  Yet part of him worried over what her reaction would be to the news that his family had once lived at Rosewood. If possible, he would keep the information that he'd wed her for the land with him and take it to his grave. He didn't want to hurt her and that knowledge could only cause her more heartache.

 

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