Sarah Morgan Summer Collection

He lifted his hand and cupped the back of her head, drawing her face towards his. ‘It’s got to be here,’ he growled hoarsely, ‘and now.’ He was driven by an urgency that he didn’t understand and she obviously felt it, too, because she pressed closer and lifted her face.

‘Yes. Now.’ She met the hot burn of his kiss and struggled with the zip of his coat just as he reached for her clothes. There was no gentle fumbling. No smiles or laughter. Each was deadly serious, intent on the other, eyes clinging and hands brushing in a feverish determination to discover flesh and be together. His mouth still on hers, he stripped her of her coat and then grabbed the hem of her strap top and slid it upwards.

She lifted her arms in acquiescence and he broke the kiss just long enough to jerk the top over her head. He looked, just for a moment—saw high, firm breasts and nipples darkening to a peak—and then looking just wasn’t enough and he touched.

This time his hands were on bare, warm flesh and he held her against him, feeling the perfection of her slender body against his.

‘Ethan … Ethan …’ She murmured his name against his lips, pressing forward, boldly encouraging him. He felt her quiver under his hands—felt her skin sleek and soft as his fingers explored and discovered. She gasped against the relentless assault of his mouth and then he felt the scratch of her nails over the bare flesh of his chest and the nip of her teeth on his jaw. Only then did he realise that she’d ripped at his clothes with the same feverish desperation that he’d stripped her. His shirt hung open and her hands were on his chest.

And then she kissed and nipped and licked her way from his jaw to his neck and from his neck to his chest, touching, tasting and breathing in the scent of him until he was so aroused that his body ached with it.

And when he felt her fingers on the waistband of his jeans he sucked in a breath and clamped his hands over hers, his teeth gritted.

‘Wait.’ He held her away from him, struggling to find a control that had never eluded him before. ‘You have to wait.’

‘I can’t wait. And neither can you.’ She was on her toes, seeking his mouth with hers. ‘Why wait?’

‘Because I want you so badly.’

‘That’s the way I want you to want me, Ethan. What other way is there?’ Her voice soft, she moved her face against his and he felt the soft brush of her lashes against his cheek before her mouth found his again. Her tongue teased his lower lip and then the corner of his mouth, accelerating the excitement between them to such a pitch that the very idea of control became laughable.

His mind and vision blurred, Ethan dispensed with the barrier of her shorts and panties and slid his hands down over her bottom. And this time when he felt her fingers at his zip, he didn’t stop her but neither did he hesitate in his own quest to know all of her. He slid his fingers deep inside her and she was so wet and so hot that he cursed softly and buried his face in her neck.

‘Now, Ethan.’ She was almost sobbing as she freed him from his jeans and closed her hand around him. ‘Please, now.’

And afterwards when he thought about this moment, he realised that he’d never really had a choice.

From that first moment on the ferry, this had been inevitable. Not here, perhaps, and not in this way. This frantic, greedy, desperate coupling that was almost primitive in its intensity. But it had always been there, waiting for both of them.

And when he pushed her back against the ancient stone wall and lifted her, he wondered how many other such acts of such sensual desperation this castle had seen over the centuries.

And then thinking became impossible because it was all about feeling and acting on the most basic of human instincts. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he moved his hand down and guided himself into her tight, silken heat, driven by a devouring, dangerous force beyond his control. His need was primitive and he deepened his possession, his hands supporting her as he held her still for his most intimate invasion. Dimly he registered her cry and tried to pause, wondering whether he’d hurt her, and then he felt the frantic movement of her hips, encouraging him, and gave himself up to his body’s instinctive need to thrust into her.

The fire between them burned and licked as they moved and gasped and greedily devoured each other. And then the explosion came. Powerful and deadly, it took both of them with it and Ethan ground into her one last time, driven past control by the rhythmic contractions of her own body.

And then the storm left, as if satisfied that it had done its work.

Still breathing heavily, Ethan lowered her gently to the ground and tried to clear his head, still too stunned to form a coherent sentence. Would he ever be able to speak?

What was there to say? After sharing something so perfect, what was there to say?

She was shaking in his arms, her hair tangled and loose, her body deliciously naked.

And suddenly he wanted her again. And he knew that he’d want her again after that. And again.

He cupped her face in his hands, needing to communicate the way he felt but silenced by his natural reticence. ‘Kyla—’

‘Don’t say anything,’ she said shakily, her eyes shy as she looked at him. ‘Don’t say anything at all.’

And he knew that she understood and felt the same way.

There were no words that could possibly do justice to what they’d just shared.

He gently stroked her hair away from her face, noticing things that he’d never noticed before. Like the fact that her blue eyes were darker than he’d first thought and she had a few tiny freckles over her nose. He dragged his thumb slowly over her full mouth and she nipped at it, the look in her eyes reflecting his own thoughts.

He wanted her again.

But not here.

‘The sun is coming up.’ He spoke softly, even though there was no one around to hear them. ‘The storm is over.’

‘Let’s watch. I’ll show you where.’ She stooped and retrieved her clothes, dressing quickly in a series of graceful movements that he watched with masculine hunger. Then she reached forward and started to fasten the buttons on his shirt. ‘If I don’t do this, I won’t be able to leave you alone. I love your body—have I told you that?’

No. And he hadn’t told her that he loved hers, although their frantic love-making should surely have left her in no doubt. But her observation that intimate conversations hadn’t been part of their interaction to date was a sharp, uncomfortable reminder that this relationship was built on shaky, dangerous ground.

She took his hand and led him across a low stone wall and then sank to the grass and dragged him down next to her. ‘This is the best view on the whole island. And this is the best weather in which to see it. Just watch.’

Ethan sat, silenced by the beauty of the scene unfolding in front of him. And as he sat there, watching the sun come up over an angry, boiling sea, he suddenly understood.

Kyla reached for his hand and curled her fingers around his. ‘Do you think things happen for a reason, Ethan?’

‘What do you mean?’

Perhaps she heard the wariness in his voice because she smiled. ‘I mean that some things are just meant to happen. You came out of nowhere. Serendipity. You could have chosen to escape anywhere but you came here.’

Ethan felt coldness pour through his body.

It hadn’t been serendipity.

And he hadn’t come out of nowhere.

Her words were like a hammer blow to his conscience and the perfection of the moment was soured. ‘Kyla—’

She covered his lips with her finger, preventing him from finishing his sentence. ‘Not now. Now I just want you to kiss me again. And then we’ll go home and do everything again in slow motion.’

CHAPTER NINE

UNFORTUNATELY, fate intervened in the form of a little girl with an asthma attack.

Logan was still tied up with Fraser, who was now being sick and complaining of persistent headache, so Ethan had no choice but to leave Kyla on her doorstep.

Once again he seemed distant, remote and Kyla felt a twist of yearning for the unconstrained, passionate side of him she’d discovered up in the ruins of the castle.

For a moment he’d lost control and finally revealed himself to her but now he had retreated back into his shell.

‘I’ll see the Roberts child, come back here and change and then go straight to the surgery. Logan thinks he may have to fly Fraser over to the mainland for a CT scan.’

They might have been no more than colleagues, discussing their plans for the day. Visit here. Clinic there.