Where The Heart Is

And then he crawled into her tent with a bottle and two glasses. ‘You left early. Tired?’ he asked softly.

No. But seeing him, remembering the night they’d spent together, made her breathless.

‘Hey.’ He rocked back on his heels. ‘If you’ve changed your mind, I understand, and I won’t give you a hard time.’

‘No.’ The whisper was ripped from her.

‘Just…you don’t do this sort of thing and you feel out of your depth. Welcome to the club.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘I nearly didn’t turn up. Just in case I wasn’t welcome. And this…’ he raised the hand with the wine and glasses ‘…isn’t some sort of bribe. So don’t think I’m taking you for granted, will you?’

In answer, she reached out, drew his hand up to her mouth, and kissed the backs of his fingers.

He shuddered. ‘Hell. I meant for us to talk first. Have a glass of wine, get to know each other a bit better. But you’ve driven everything else out of my mind.’ He tucked the wine and glasses safely to one side, switched off her torch, and shifted to lie with her on top of the sleeping bag. ‘I need to touch you.’ His voice was thick with desire. Like dark melted chocolate. He moved her so that she was straddling him, and she leaned down to kiss him. In the dark, she couldn’t see his eyes, his expression, but the swelling hardness between her thighs told her exactly how he was feeling. Just like she was. Turned on and blown away by the strength of their reaction to each other.

She ran the tip of her tongue along his lower lip. He sighed, and his hold on her waist tightened. He shifted his hips and she smiled.

‘Impatient?’ she murmured against his ear.

‘I’ve been thinking about you all day.’ His voice dropped an octave. ‘I saw you leaning over something earlier. Those jeans…And then I remembered exactly what was underneath them. I only just stopped myself doing the cave-man thing.’

‘Oh?’ She’d never thought she could have that kind of power over a man. Hadn’t let one close enough since she’d been a teenager. Maybe, she thought, she should have taken a risk like this sooner.

Or maybe it only worked with a man like Luke.

He tugged at her long-sleeved T-shirt, freeing the hem from the waistband of her jeans, then he slid his hand under the fabric, placing his palms flat against her stomach. ‘You feel good.’

So did he.

He pushed his hands upwards, cupping her breasts through her sensible, very unsexy bra. ‘Better,’ he murmured huskily. Then, before she realised his intentions, he’d slipped one hand behind her back to undo her bra. ‘Better still,’ he said, replacing their support with his hands. His thumbs brushed against her already hardened nipples, and she shivered.

‘Yes,’ he said, and lifted his upper body so he could take one nipple into his mouth. She tipped her head back and groaned.

She’d trudged through mud. All day. Every muscle ached. She needed some sleep. But she needed this much, much more. While he was still touching her, sucking her, she pulled her T-shirt and bra off.

‘I want to do this in the light,’ he murmured against her skin.

She froze. And give a shadow-show to the whole camp? Not likely!

‘Santiago,’ he said. ‘Our last night. You, me, a good hotel. A bed with proper sheets. A hot, hot shower. And I’m going to soap every centimetre of you. Touch you. Kiss you all over.’

Longing shuddered through her. ‘Yes.’

He unsnapped the button of her jeans, lowered the zip. ‘We’re going to make love with the light on.’

Her mouth went dry. ‘Yes.’

He slid his hand into her jeans, and his fingers nudged her knickers aside. She exhaled sharply as one finger found the exact spot she wanted to be touched, and began to rub. She leaned back, gripping his thighs for support. ‘Yes.’

‘And I’m going to watch your face, see your eyes when you come,’ he murmured.

Sensation burst through her and she had to clench her teeth together, biting back a moan of pleasure.

This was crazy. They were in a tent, for goodness’ sake. It was cold, cramped and pitch black. It was raining again, too—she could hear the raindrops thudding against the canvas.

And she wouldn’t have swapped this moment for the world.

Little aftershocks of pleasure rippled through her as he gently lifted her off him. He rubbed his face against hers, kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that all day.’

‘Me, too.’ She couldn’t help confessing it.

‘The night is young.’ He kissed her hard. ‘Let me sort this sleeping bag. And we’ll take it slower this time.’

This time it would be her turn to explore. By touch, by taste, breathing in his clean male scent. She smiled as she heard the whoosh of the zip. In Santiago, the last sense would click into place.

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