Tempestuous Eden by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

extended the other to her.
    “How about a walk in the moonlight?”
    Blair glanced skeptically at the sky, where a sliver-thin crescent made a feeble effort at illumination.
    “All right.” He chuckled at her doubt. “How about a walk beneath the stars?”
    There were a few dotting the heavens.
    “I don’t know,” she said, rising even as she demurred. “Should big kids be out after dark?”
    “Only with me,” he replied suavely with a slight lift of a brow. “I’ll bet the stream is beautiful at night….”
    They did walk, they did talk, they did meander down to the stream and sit upon the bank where they had been earlier. The little jungle haven seemed like a paradise at night, the hibiscus emanating a soft red glow, the grass a smooth, cloudlike carpet, the waterfall rushing gently into a pool that caught that slender moon and glistened beneath it like a diamond-studded sea.
    Blair found herself forgetting where she was, who she was. She even forgot to wonder who he was … it was easy. They discussed books, music, movies. Food. Nothing highly personal, nothing controversial. And as they talked it was very natural that his arm came around her. She didn’t protest the movement, and in time it was very natural that she began to touch his fingers, idly running her own along them.
    She had never felt more natural with a man, more comfortable, more secure. And still so excitingly stimulated. She loved being exactly where she was, harbored in his shoulder, leaning against his strength, idly talking, and inhaling his deliciously masculine scent. So drugging, so potent.
    In time he stood and helped her up beside him. “I guess we’d better ‘walk beneath the stars’ back,” he said regretfully, his tone husky and slightly strained. He didn’t move the support of his arm, but he made no attempt to kiss her, and she was strangely disappointed. She was sure he had wanted to, and yet held back with that leashed control.
    Blair nodded mutely.
    The fire had died low when they returned, glowing only faintly in pale yellows and oranges. It was early; the rest of the crew had turned into their tents for the night.
    Craig walked Blair to hers, pausing at the flap. His golden eyes seemed to bore into hers, more magnetic and compelling than any fire of heaven or earth. There were mixed emotions naked in them for a moment; the desire she admitted she desperately wanted to see, and that strain and regret she had earlier puzzled over in his voice.
    She moistened her lips, unaware that her own yearning for something as yet unfulfilled was beautifully visible in her face. Craig felt that he really saw emeralds, shimmering like the sea, returning his gaze. Her hair was a rich wave of deep flame cascading down her back as she tilted her head to his; her lips were moist, pink, slightly parted, and enchantingly inviting.
    A groan rose from the core of his body, sending shudders through him. The sound came out as a rasp of desire. Damn, he thought again, he wasn’t a machine … a goddamned computer.
    His lips fell hungrily to hers. They were fierce, they were tender, they demanded, they conquered. His tongue deeply invaded the mouth that parted sweetly to his assault, grazed over pearl white teeth. He inhaled her clean, fragrant scent, inducing him as nothing ever had before.
    It was the first time in his life he had lost control in any way.
    But he had lost it. Her lips were clinging moistly to his. They had been tentative at first, not offended, but shy. Now her mouth was like a flower, intoxicated by the full bloom brought by the sun. As if she had been a sheltered maiden, she seemed to take, and learn, and then give with a beauty that saturated his senses. His arms held her, and she was so soft, so pliant, so wonderfully, wonderfully feminine, warm, and receptive.
    A moan tremored in Blair’s throat. She wasn’t aware that she issued the sound; she was barely aware of anything, barely conscious.
    His touch was everything she