Sleepless Nights (The Donovans of the Delta) by Peggy Webb

rosy from sunshine and laughter. “Not as long as you’re doing all the work.”
    “That was only temporary, madame.” He kissed her flushed cheek and set her on her feet. “Tomorrow I’m going to hate myself for letting you go, but I can’t have the ruination of that beautiful body on my conscience.” He patted her bottom. “Now march, madame.”
    “Slave driver.” She started a slow trot beside him.
    “That’s it. One foot in front of the other.”
    “Slow down, Tanner.”
    “You can do it. Pick up your speed. Get the old heart pumping.”
    “This is torture.”
    “It’s great.”
    “I hate it.”
    “I love it.”
    “I intend to complain every breath.”
    “You’re doing a wonderful job of that.”
    “Do you do this every day?”
    “Yes. At least six miles a day.”
    “If you think I’m going six miles, you’re crazy.”
    “Just to that oak tree up ahead.”
    “That’s a thousand miles away, Tanner.”
    “It’s more like a thousand feet.”
    “My feet hurt. I’ve stepped on forty-five rocks, and my shoes aren’t made for running.”
    “Poor baby. Of course they’re not. I’m so sorry.”
    He scooped her up into his arms once more. “There. Is that better?”
    She heaved a big sigh of contentment and cuddled against his chest. “Much better. I’m so glad I came today. I never realized how totally unsuited to each other we are.”
    He stood gazing into her face, thinking that he’d never really known how totally suited to each other they were. Amanda, at eighteen, had been bright and beautiful and charming. At thirty-three, she was all that and more, so much more. She had a quick wit and a warm personality and a breathtaking sensuality. Being with her was like having Christmas shining in his soul.
    “Yes. Totally unsuited.” His voice was soft, husky, blending with the gentle murmur of the river. “I always loved the way your eyes look in the sunlight, Mandy. There’s a little pot of gold right in the center of all that beautiful blue-green.” He bent closer.
    She touched his face, letting her fingertips play tenderly along his cheeks and around his jaw. “Your face, Tanner. I could never forget the strong lines, those wonderful cheekbones, and that square, stubborn jaw.”
    He bent so close that their lips were almost touching. “Since we both agree . . .” His tongue drew a lazy circle around her mouth.
    She sighed. “. . . that we’re a mismatch.”
    “It would be sinful not to kiss you.”
    “A waste.”
    There was a terrible hunger in their kiss. Like starving lovers too long denied, they devoured each other. They clung together, their soft cries of pleasure muffled against each other’s lips. The love that they so stoutly denied came pouring forth in the kiss.
    Tanner lowered Amanda’s feet to the ground, sliding her down his body, branding himself with the glorious feel of her. He buried his left hand in her hair and pulled her closer, reveling in the perfect fit of her hips against his, marveling at the sensations that rocked him.
    He wanted to take her right there beside the river, with the winter sun warming their skin. He wanted to strip off her clothes and taste every gorgeous inch of her body. Desire rose in him so strongly that he thought he would explode.
    “Mandy . . .” The word was half plea, half groan, spoken against her lips.
    “Tanner . . . please.”
    As their mouths continued their hungry course, he knew that Amanda was as blinded by passion as he. They were on the cutting edge of danger, about to plunge over. One more minute of this sweet agony and there would be no turning back for him. He’d have Amanda—in every way. But it wouldn’t be the end, it would be the beginning; the beginning of madness.
    It took every ounce of control he possessed to pull away from her. Looking at her, flushed with desire, was as gut-wrenching as kissing her. He almost made love to her—the consequences be damned.
    “That’s a good way to end a picnic.”