He groaned. “Mind? Athena—”
“What you did… was so wonderful. I want to do the same for you.”
The same? He had never imagined she might touch him, explore him the way he had done with her. She was a sheltered lady, ignorant of the ways of the flesh until he had taught her. But her hands moved again, and he was compelled to admit that she had learned very quickly indeed.
But that was not the final surprise. Just as he had resigned himself to suffering the exquisite torture of her caresses, her hands left him, and her mouth continued the work they had begun. He held on to sanity with fraying resolve. She wanted to give, unselfishly as always, but he would not be in her debt. Not even in this.
With implacable gentleness he grasped her shoulders and pulled her up. Her eyes reflected puzzlement, even hurt. He kissed her mouth and lay back on the blanket of leaves, stretching her out across the length of his body. He eased her legs on either side of his hips to straddle him.
She looked down at him and understood. He gave her control, mastery over what they did together—together, sharing pleasure and fulfillment. Morgan became her willing prisoner, and she did not fail to accept his invitation.
Tiny movements of her thighs and hips teased and tormented him as she found just the right position. She eased down, down, taking him in, and then finished with a heady plunge. It was she who controlled the rhythm, who smiled with amazed satisfaction as he became helpless in her power. Her hair swept across his chest in time to her motions. Her small, even teeth nipped at his shoulders.
Neither of them could control the inevitable finish. Morgan was as inept as a boy with his first woman. And yet, by some marvel of the magic they made together, they found the heavens in flawless harmony.
Athena lay with her head tucked beneath his chin, her heartbeat slowing with his. Morgan closed his eyes. If she remained here long enough, her flesh would become his flesh, her bones his bones, her very being an inseparable part of him. But he held her there until she slept and the sun’s steep angle cast the cave into twilight.
Darkness let him conceal the thing he could admit in his heart but would never speak.
I love you, he whispered into the fragrance of her hair. I love you. But love is never enough.
Chapter 21
The sun was a copper hall in a clear blue sky when Niall reached the ranch. He saw the circus wagons massed at the side of the second barn, half buried in snow that glistened like bright new trappings.
Morgan had told the truth. Caitlin was safe.
Niall dragged his feet the last few steps to the house, up the stairs and onto the veranda. He had long since ceased to notice his weariness. His heart had dissolved a little more with each step away from the murder, melting like an ice block to pool in his legs and freeze anew.
Many other feet had trod this way in the past few hours. Caitlin would be with the others. Her friends, her family, the people she trusted. They would all hear what he had to say. It didn’t matter what they thought of him. No one else’s judgment could affect him now.
He didn’t bother to wipe his boots as he entered the hall. A blast of warmth buffeted his face, sending rivulets of water from his hat and his snow-crusted clothing.
The hearth in the parlor blazed with an immense fire, hungrily consuming the heavy branches upon which it fed. To one side stood a table laid out with the remains of a meal and several steaming pots of coffee. The space in front of the fire was crowded with people, among them many faces Niall had come to know well: Harry French, the dwarf Ulysses, Tamar the snake charmer… and Caitlin. Caitlin, who looked up as he paused on the threshold.
“Niall!” she cried. She started toward him. Her gaze fastened on the closed door at his back and returned to his face. Her footsteps slowed and stopped.