Christmas in Whitehorn
hold back her cry of delight. It was more than she'd ever experienced, and seemed to go on forever. He touched her gently, drawing every possible shiver of wonder from her starving body.
    When she was finally back on earth, she sighed with contentment. Then something thick and hard pressed against her. She shifted so that she could wrap her legs around him, drawing him in.
    "Yes," she breathed, opening her eyes.
    Passion tightened Mark's features. He pushed inside her, filling her until she gasped.
    "I want you," he growled.
    "Please."
    Mark told himself this was a mistake, but it was a little late now. As he pushed into Darcy's tight body, he groaned. She felt too good – hot, slick, ready. If only she hadn't looked at him as if she'd never before seen a man she wanted. If only he hadn't noticed the swell of her breasts earlier that afternoon. If only she hadn't responded like a starving person enjoying her first meal in weeks.
    Remember what happened last time, he told himself, as he continued to push inside her. But this was different, he argued silently. No, she was a woman with secrets. He knew better.
    Damn. She pulled him close and kissed him. As their tongues circled and danced, he felt himself losing control. She kissed better than anyone he'd ever been with. It's just sex, he told himself as he slipped toward the edge.
    "Mark," she breathed, then gasped.
    He felt the shudder of her release. It was more than he could resist. With a gasp of his own, he went over the cliff and began his journey to paradise.

Chapter Four
     
    D arcy didn't have the luxury of waiting until the morning after to feel like an idiot. No, she got to feel stupid the second Mark straightened, pulling out of her body. There she was, naked as the day she was born, half sitting, half lying on her sofa while a strange man pulled up his trousers and zipped them. He hadn't even taken off his clothes.
    Color flooded her face. She wanted to run and hide, but there was no easy way to extricate herself from the sofa. Plus there was the whole naked thing.
    Frantically she looked around for something with which to cover herself. The sofa didn't offer many ideas. Mark must have noticed her distress, because he picked up his shirt and draped it over her, then rose to his feet. Something very like chagrin darkened his green eyes.
    "Darcy, I—" He broke off and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't do this sort of thing enough to know what to say."
    "Me, either," she said, pulling on the shirt and buttoning it. She assumed they were discussing the suddenness of the encounter, and not the fact that they'd made love. Somehow Mark didn't strike her as sexually inexperienced. Could the situation be more awkward?
    "I don't usually … that is I've never—" She pressed her lips together and wished she could simply fade into the fabric of the sofa.
    He crouched in front of her and brushed the hair from her eyes. "I know. This isn't your style. Mine either. I guess we were both caught up in the moment." One corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. "Must have been all the tofu in the potatoes."
    "Must have been."
    He dropped his hand to his side. "Are you okay?"
    No!
    She held in the word. "I'm not upset, well, not that much. It's just, I don't know. Too weird, I guess. I barely know you. We're not even dating." She swallowed and wanted to die. "Not that I'm hinting we should date, it's just…"
    She looked away, hating what he must think of her. That she was cheap and easy. She wasn't – she'd never been that way. If she tried to explain about her life, he might start to ask questions and what was she supposed to say about Dirk? Talking about her brother was hardly post-lovemaking material.
    He stood, then bent over and grabbed her clothes.
    Darcy took them gratefully. She pulled on her panties, then rose and quickly pulled on her slacks. There was a really awkward moment when she had to hand him back his shirt, then slip on her bra and sweater all while trying to

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