"I suppose you should know." She laughed shakily. "A rich man like you must have quite a few of them."

"Not really. I guess you could say I have a good many valuables but that's something else again. You've got to care for something to make it a treasure." He was coming toward her with that smooth, lithe coordination. "Perhaps I didn't deserve to have a treasure before. Maybe I would have been too careless and irresponsible to care for it properly." He stopped before her and his lopsided smile was boyishly endearing. "I wouldn't be that careless now, Kate. Will you be my treasure if I promise to guard and cherish you very carefully?"

The words were so simply eloquent, his expression so beautiful that she couldn't speak for an instant because of the lump in her throat. His treasure for an eternity or merely for tonight? Somehow at this moment it didn't make any difference. One night with Beau would be worth any pain she would have to suffer later.

"If that's what you want me to be," she said breathlessly.

"That's what I want." His hand reached up to cup the curve of her cheek with infinite gentleness. "You won't regret it, Kate." A dark frown suddenly clouded his face. "This doesn't have anything to do with that blasted bargain we made, does it? You know that's down the drain. You really want me, right?"

"I really want you,'' she said, a tender smile tugging at her lips. How could he doubt it when he could see the response he'd so easily ignited in her? He seemed to ignite all kinds of responses with no effort at all-and not only the physical. Tenderness, laughter, respect, admiration, love. Love? The word had come so easily to mind that it frightened her a little. She must be very careful not to think of that. It was far too dangerous in a relationship that might prove as ephemeral as theirs.

"Then that's what you're going to get," he drawled, the lightness back in his expression. "Every bit of me that you can take." He reached out and lightly cupped her breast in his palm. "Now."

Then his arm was about her waist and he was leading her to the denim-covered mattress across the room. His fingers splayed out and rubbed her hip in a caress that was more affectionate than sensual. "I can't get enough of touching you. That incredibly silky skin with all that warm aliveness beneath it. I'm constantly wanting to reach out to play or rub against you like a cat with a satin pillow." His hands on her shoulders were pushing her to her knees on the mattress before kneeling to face her. His eyes were glazed as he stared down at her naked breasts with an intentness that caused a shiver of anticipation. "I want to do that now but I'm afraid the time for play is over."

"The light?" she asked. Perhaps she wouldn't feel so shy if she couldn't see the smoldering sensuality on his face.

He shook his head. "I like you bathed in lamplight. It gleams and shimmers on you like liquid gold." He slowly bent his head until his lips were only a breath away from one taut eager nipple. That warm breath kissed her even before his lips touched her. "Now let's see if I can make that pretty breast pucker again for me."

She inhaled sharply as his mouth closed around her as he began to alternately nibble and suckle at the nipple that had been waiting eagerly for his attention. He was very gentle at first but she could feel the change in him as the moments passed. There was a tension and restrained savagery in the way he pushed her on her back on the mattress. Both hands were encircling her breast, now causing it to swell into prominence. His mouth seemed to be trying to envelop the entire mound at times while his tongue flicked wildly over every portion of it. His nips became sharper and his face was flushed and heavy above her. "I can't get enough of you. I want to eat you alive." He suckled strongly and she arched up to him with a little cry. He was over her now, his lips still working frantically at her breast. He began rubbing against her like the cat he'd compared himself to and it was as erotic as his lips at her breast. Yet there was nothing of the sleek feline about Beau in that moment. He was all hard bone and supple muscles and aroused male.

She could feel that arousal brush against her as he moved and she unconsciously opened her thighs to welcome him. She wanted to welcome all of him, touch, smell, sight. She wanted him to surround her in every way possible.

"You want me?" he asked, his eyes blazing almost pure gold. His hand traveled down to rest possessively between her thighs, not moving or caressing. However, just the warm heaviness of it against that most private part of her so vulnerably open to him, filled her with unbearable excitement. His voice was harsh with restraint. "Here? Now? You're ready for me?"

"I want you." It was a gasp. "Now!"

He closed his eyes and breathed a shuddering sigh of relief. "Thank heaven, I didn't know how long I could keep up this foreplay. I'm nearly wild." He was parting her thighs with frantic eagerness, his fingers now moving, caressing, exploring. "You're so pretty here." He lowered his head to her belly, gently nipping the soft rounded flesh. "And you are ready for me." He laughed huskily. "I wanted to make sure. You're so beautifully tight I was afraid I'd hurt you if you weren't as wild for me as I am for you."

He didn't have to worry about that, she thought hazily. She was aching frantically with a feverish desire for completion.

He was between her thighs, his hard warmth nudging against her and he suddenly smiled down at her with loving sweetness. "I'll be careful," he whispered. "There's no way I'd ever want to hurt you. I told you I know how to care for treasures now."

Poignant tenderness and passion were in his voice and his eyes… They were so beautiful she felt tears rise in her own. Everything was beautiful, his golden eyes, the sensual curve of his lips, the brilliant coral orchids on the wall beyond his shoulder, but most of all the feel of him as he became part of her.

"Relax." There was a touch of impatience in his voice. "I told you I wouldn't hurt you. Don't you trust me?"

Of course she trusted him, but there was something the matter. There was a hint of troubled hurt in his face and she, couldn't bear it. Nothing must spoil the beauty of what was happening to both of them, she thought dreamily. Not when she could take care of the problem so easily.

She surged upward with determined forceful-ness and there was a sharp piercing pain that was immediately drowned in the equally sharp delight of being full of him. She smiled happily up at him. "Better?"

"Better," he echoed blankly, his face stunned. He flexed spasmodically and a great shudder racked him. He closed his eyes. "Oh, Lord, yes, that's better."

"Good." Her hands caressed his hips lovingly. "I want you to be happy, Beau."

His lids lifted and he looked down at her with a curious expression of torment. "I know you do," he said hoarsely. "Everyone has to be happy even if it means the giving has to go on forever. Because we all keep taking, don't we?" His lips twisted bitterly. "Even me. For once in my life I wanted to give, but I'm taking too." One hand reached up to gently stroke her cheek. "And the damnable part of it is that I can't stop now."

She was bewildered. She'd wanted to help him, but he looked so sad now. "Beau, should I-"

"Shhh." His fingers were on her lips. "Hush, everything's all right. I'm going to take, but I'll find a way of giving too. Maybe it will all even out." He was moving with a slow stroking thrust, letting her get used to him. It wasn't easy for him to maintain that control. She was conscious of the leashed urgency in him struggling to break the bonds of restraint. She could feel the knotted muscles of his hips beneath her palms. The stroking was hotly tantalizing but still she wanted more. She wanted that primitive animal passion he'd shown her before. She needed it.

"Beau." Her murmur was feverish as her nails dug unconsciously into the flesh of his hips. She surged against him urgently. "Please, Beau."

She could see the conflict on his face and then he gave a helpless groan. "Kate. Oh, damn, Kate." And thrust forward forcefully, taking her breath, burning, pressing, thrusting until she was almost mindless with pleasure.

Treasure. A carousel playing a haunting melody, Beau's golden eyes, his hand in hers walking through the rain forest, a mocking Southern drawl with a note of underlying tenderness, courage, honesty, passion, this beautiful, throbbing rhythm. So many treasures. He was giving them all to her and when he gave the final radiant gift that made rapture seem commonplace, it was no more precious than the other treasures he'd heaped upon her.

Her head was cradled in the hollow of his shoulder and she could feel the hard thud of his heart beneath her ear. Its cadence was gradually lessening, as was her own. His hand automatically tangled in her curls and began to thread through them with lazy contentment. "So silky," he murmured. "Did I tell you how much I loved those soft little ringlets?"

She nodded. "You're certainly a very tactile person, Beau," she charged teasingly, then suddenly chuckled. "Not that I'd be so ungrateful as to complain in the present set of circumstances."

She could feel him stiffen against her and his hand paused in her hair. "No, you wouldn't complain no matter what I did to you," he said quietly. "You wouldn't care to tell me how you happen to be a virgin? I received the distinct impression from the lady I was with in Alvarez's bar that you were every bit as experienced as she."

"Did you?" she asked, blissfully uncaring. "I was in there quite often prying Jeffrey away from the whiskey bottle. She probably misunderstood." Her head lifted suddenly as she gazed at him in troubled uncertainty. "Does it bother you?"