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channels of her body. She felt drunk, vibrantly alive, stimulated beyond bearing. Gasping, she put her arms around his back and felt the heavy flex of muscle as he moved again.
    There were still layers of clothing between them, trousers and shoes and undergarments, not to mention the troublesome heap of her skirts. Suddenly she wanted to be rid of it all, to feel his entire naked body against hers, and this longing shocked her even as she struggled to press closer to him. He seemed to understand what she wanted, for he gave an unsteady laugh and caught one of her hands in his. “No, Amanda…tonight you’re going to remain a virgin.”
    â€œWhy?”
    His hand covered her breast, squeezing gently, and he dragged his half-open mouth over her throat. “Because there are a few things you need to know about me first.”
    Now that it seemed likely that he would not make love to her, it became the thing Amanda wanted most. “But I’ll never see you again,” she said. “And it’s my birthday.”
    Jack laughed at that, his blue eyes gleaming, and he pressed a hard kiss to her mouth, and hugged her close while he murmured endearments in her ear. No one had ever said such things to her before. People were intimidated by her self-possession and no-nonsense demeanor. No man would ever dream of calling her adorable, sweet, darling…and certainly no one had ever made her feel that way. She both craved and hated the effect he had on her, the appalling sting of tears in her eyes, the heat of passion rising in her body. Now she knew exactly why she should never have sent for this mysterious man. It was indeed better not to know about this, when she would never have it again.
    â€œAmanda,” he whispered, mistaking the reason for her unshed tears. “I’ll make you feel better…be still for me…let me…”
    His hand searched beneath her skirts until he found the tapes of her drawers, his fingers working expertly to untie them. Her head whirled, and she lay still and trembling while her arms remained wrapped around his shoulders. He touched the soft skin of her stomach, thumb brushing lightly over her navel, and then his fingers slid downward to the place where she had never imagined being touched, where she tried never to touch herself. His hand smoothed over the patch of crisp curls, and then his fingertips searched carefully, making her hips jerk and twitch.
    His Irish accent was thicker, heavier than before. “Is this where it aches, mhuirnin ?”
    She gasped against his throat. His fingertips teased and rubbed, finding the most exquisitely sensitive place of all, a tiny peak of flesh that quivered to life at his touch. Heat blossomed in her loins, breasts, head. She was a willing prisoner to his gentle manipulations, all her skin flushed and prickling from her scalp to her toes. One finger pressed and intruded until it slid inside her, the small penetration burning slightly as her body clasped him with a jolt of innocent reluctance. Her head fell back, and she looked up dizzily at his face. His eyes were a color she had never seen before, except perhaps in dreams…bright, pure blue, filled with a sexual knowledge that stunned her. His finger flexed inside her while his thumb nudged the burgeoning little point of pleasure, and he repeated the maddening stroking until she arched upward with a shaken cry, unraveling, her volatile senses finally catching fire.
    She rode on a lingering swell of feeling, drifting through the warmth, until Jack finally pulled away with a muted groan and sat up, his face turned away from her. The withdrawal of his hands and mouth, the absence of his touch, were almost painful, and Amanda felt her entire body yearning for him. She realized that the release he had given her was not something he intended to allow himself. Tentatively she reached for him, her hand settling on his trouser-clad thigh as she tried to communicate her