Heart of Winter by Diana Palmer Page A

feeling the curls as he moved his hands to her nape and turned her head up with firm gentleness.
    â€œIt’s been one hell of a long time since I kissed a woman,” he said half under his breath, looking down at her coldly. “Don’t you realize that you’ve been inviting that for days? I’m not a boy, and I’ve gone hungry in recent years. I can’t play games, I even told you so. You could start something that would ruin both our lives.”
    She let him pull her head back. She looked up at him unafraid, her eyes soft with understanding and compassion. “I’m not afraid of you,” she said softly.
    â€œI could make you afraid, Nicole.”
    His voice was velvety soft and deep. Her lips parted, because it was as sensuous as she’d imagined it would be. She liked being close to him. She wanted his mouth and her lips parted in subtle invitation. She might have imagined herself in love with Chase James, but never in her life had she felt anything as sweet as this.
    He looked down at her soft mouth, seeing it open, and something in him snapped. He bent quickly, covering it with his hard lips. He wanted to hurt her. She was a child, playing at sensuality, and he wanted to make it so rough that she’d stop tormenting him with emotions he never wanted to feel again….
    She yielded completely, no thought of fighting him. His mouth was hard, warm and tasted of tobacco and it was only then that she realized how expert he really was. He made no allowances for her youth, and despite her small experience with Chase, this was her first real taste of passion. It was devastating, this helpless feeling he caused in her. She sighed hungrily, letting him draw her completely against the powerful hard length of his body, letting him crush her against it. Her mouth yielded eagerly to his insistent lips, tasting the tobacco tartness of his tongue as it pushed into her mouth, penetrating her in a silence that blazed with kindling sensations.
    Her hands grasped his shirtsleeves, holding on, because her knees were getting weak. His arm at her back arched her, the hand at her nape tangled in her curly hair. He made a sound deep in his throat and lifted his head, his eyes black and blazing as they probed her dazed ones.
    â€œAren’t you going to fight me?” he taunted with a faint, mocking smile as his mouth poised over hers.
    â€œNo.” She reached up, sliding her arms around his neck. Her mouth was soft, parted and waiting, tempting his. “Oh, no, I want it, too!”
    â€œNicky…”
    It was a groan, her name on his lips. He bent, half lifting her up to him. But this time, he didn’t try to hurt her. This time, he was achingly gentle. His hard mouth slowed and softened on hers, and he kissed her with a subdued passion that aroused all her protective instincts. Poor, tormented man, she thought. So much love in him, all wasted on the wrong woman. And now he was driven to hurt back, out of fear that it was going to happen again. But it wasn’t, she thought, her heart blazing with compassion. It wasn’t, because she’d never hurt him.
    She closed her arms tight around his neck and opened her mouth for him, drawing it over his as she was learning he liked it. Her tongue teased at his full lower lip and he made a sound that corresponded with the tautening of his body.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she whispered against his lips. “I don’t…know much about this. I’m sorry if I did it wrong.”
    He lifted his head again. He was breathing roughly, and his eyes had a haunted look. The hand in her hair caressed gently. “You really are a virgin, aren’t you?” he murmured with a tenderness he wasn’t aware of.
    â€œI guess it shows,” she whispered dryly. She looked down at his shirt, missing the sudden shocked delight in his eyes. “I haven’t had a lot to do with men in the past few years.”
    He brushed the