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into herself to give herself warmth and comfort because no one else ever could.
    Now there was someone who could. Not a girlfriend, not even someone she knew. A complete stranger, handsome and focused on her with an icy blue laserlike gaze.
    Nothing could stop me.
    He’d battled his way to her. “How did you—” she began and he kissed her.
    And kissed her and kissed her.
    Not a tentative first kiss, no. His big hands held her head still as his eyes dropped to her mouth. It was instinctive, she could feel it. That intense blue gaze turned sharply heated as he looked at her mouth, then his gaze rose. Not tender, not the look of a lover. More the look of a conqueror. The look of someone who’d traveled a long, hard road for something, and now here it was.
    Yes. Here she was. She’d spent the day preparing for death, and, inevitably, she’d looked back on her life. A life well spent, oh yes. She’d studied hard, loved her parents, gone into science wanting to do good. She’d been a good girl every step of the way. Even her few lovers had been good guys. Boys, really, even if they were technically men. Other scientists like herself, from good families, like herself.
    But she’d kept her healing abilities from them. Out of self-defense. It was hard, though, to keep such a big chunk of herself out of a relationship. You ended up handing over a truncated version of yourself, almost a cardboard version, everything external. Never letting anyone get too close. And no one ever had.
    Jon lifted his head, eyes blazing, face drawn.
    Certainly no man had ever looked at her like this—intently, as if that ice blue gaze could read inside her head. He closed his eyes, the intensity seeming too much, and so did she—because it was.
    And then his mouth was on hers once more.
    Soft. Hard. Soft. Hard.
    Soft touches, fingertips callused but gentle as he touched her face, her neck.
    Hard muscles, immensely strong. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and felt no give whatsoever.
    Soft. His lips were so soft on hers.
    Hard. His erection was like a steel cylinder between them.
    Wild screams erupted outside her window. Someone dying, badly. As so many had done today. So much pain, so much death.
    And yet she had life itself under the palms of her hands. Life. Such a precious thing, so taken for granted.
    Another scream and she held him more tightly, pushing up against him. Immediately, his huge hard penis somehow lengthened even more. From her movement against him. She’d done that to him, to this hard and powerful man.
    The change wasn’t only in him, though. When she felt his penis surge with blood, it echoed inside her. He couldn’t feel it, of course. But Sophie felt it. A bolt of heat in her groin so strong she turned liquid, so strong she undulated against him and immediately felt again how that affected him. He lifted his head for just a second and she missed his mouth against hers. Every time his tongue touched hers, a line of heat went straight to her womb.
    Such heat, such life. The world was drowning in blood and pain and here was this magical man, come to save her, giving her such pleasure she nearly sighed with it.
    â€œSophie,” he whispered. There was a question in there somewhere. She was shaking with emotion, with relief and joy. She had no idea what that question might be, but the answer was clear.
    â€œYes,” she whispered back.
    His big hands moved down to where her robe crossed her breasts. She was naked under the robe; he must be able to feel that. He lifted slightly on his elbows to untie her robe and open it, slowly, like a kid opens a long-awaited present. His hands covered her breasts, hands hard, strong.
    He wasn’t using his strength, oh no. Every movement was careful. He didn’t talk to her—how could he, he was kissing her senseless. But his body did. His hands were gentle, cupping her sides, thumbs stroking her nipples. Each touch of