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of the bed with her toe. She leaned her head to one side and shook her hair out of the way so she could reach behind and unlace her dress.
    Dane followed her every movement with his eyes.
    Anticipation and a new awareness of herself as a woman made her bold. She wanted this, more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. Then, perhaps, she could free herself from regrets and the weight of guilt.
    Her dress unlaced, she slid one sleeve and the other down her arms. Her bodice fell down to her hips, leaving her before him in her threadbare chemise.
    His gaze went to her breasts, which were right before him. Jemma leaned over and, this time, when she kissed him, she did so in the manner in which he had kissed her.
    Their kiss took on immediate heat. His strong arms came around her, lowering her to the bed, and this time, she felt no shyness.
    Dane kissed her lips, her chin, her cheeks. When his tongue traced a pattern around her ear, the astonishing sensation threatened to send her straight through the canopy like a shooting star.
    His hand on her breast grounded her.
    This, at least, was familiar. But his touch was far from the clumsy gropings of her husband. Dane knew what pleased her. She showed her enjoyment by circling his ear with the tip of her tongue.
    His reaction was abrupt.
    He took the front of her chemise in both hands and ripped it wide open, his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth teasing the sensitive skin. Cold air hit her breasts, but then his hands covered them, warming her in ways she’d never imagined.
    His breathing grew heavy. Or was that her own she heard? Deep inside, she could feel everything quickening, tightening, urging.
    His lips moved down her throat, and wherever he touched, she grew hot. He pressed her breasts together. They filled his hands.
    For a heartbeat, she was embarrassed. Her tight nipples were brown, and she’d always considered them ugly.
    Then, he murmured, “Beautiful,” and she was.
    He covered one breast with his mouth. Jemma felt the pull all the way down to the very core of her. She buried her fingers in his thick hair, and her legs opened to him with a will of their own. He moved to her other breast, giving it the same care and attention, and Jemma could have wept from the pleasure.
    This was her Dane. The man she’d once dreamed of marrying . . . and for now, nothing mattered except being here with him like this. She wanted to join with him. She needed their joining.
    They undressed quickly. Jemma was now glad of the candles lighting the room. They didn’t bother getting under the bedclothes but fell on each other gloriously naked. Her lover was a handsome man, but the erection he boasted was something she’d never imagined. Bold, proud, begging to be satisfied.
    Her husband had never been like this. The thought startled a laugh from her.
    Dane lifted an eyebrow. “What is funny?”
    â€œNothing,” she assured him. “Nothing is funny at all.” She punctuated her words by daring to touch him. It was as hard as it looked.
    Dane wrapped her hair around one fist, as if he’d stop her if she attempted to escape from him. But she wasn’t running away. Her need for him was frightening in its intensity.
    She curved her body to meet his, her legs cradling his hips. His hand caressed her hip and down her thigh, encouraging her knees to bend and bring him closer. Not that she needed encouragement. She was hot, moist, ready. She closed her eyes.
    He entered her in one smooth thrust.
    She gasped aloud and he stopped.
    â€œJemma? Have I hurt you?”
    â€œNo, it feels so good,” she said on a sigh, her body adjusting to his size and length. “So right.”
    â€œThen open your eyes and look at me,” he ordered, and she obeyed.
    â€œDane,” she murmured, and he smiled, the expression tense, as if he had a tight hold on himself. She shifted and took him deeper, and this time, he was the one to