"You've pretty feet." He said it casually, with a laugh in his eyes as he lifted her foot and nibbled on her toes. The breath that had caught exploded out again, and her fingers dug like spikes into the mattress.

"But I have to admit, after seeing them this morning all damp and rosy I have a preference for your shoulders."

"My-oh-" He gave his attention to her other foot and wiped her brain clean. "What?"

"Your shoulders. I fancy them" Because it was true enough, he rose, and lifted Jude to her now tingling feet. "They're graceful, but they're strong." As he spoke, he unbuttoned the shirt she'd borrowed. To torment them both a little longer, he didn't remove it, but only nudged it off her shoulders so he could do as he'd imagined and trail his tongue along the curve.

"Oh, God." The sensation drizzled into her system like gold dust until everything inside her sparkled. When she gripped his hips for balance, he worked his way up the side of her neck to her jaw, like a man slowly sampling his way through a variety of dishes at a banquet.

His mouth brushed over hers, a teasing taste that stirred the juices of her own hunger. He heard it in her quiet moan and came back for a second, longer taste.

Her hands slid up his back, and she moved her body against his in a dreamy rhythm as her head fell back in surrender.

Slow, he said, and sweet. It was exactly right. With the candlelight dancing and the rain softly pattering and her own sighs filling her head, soft kisses grew longer, and deeper. It seemed her body was alive with the taste of him now, rich and male and perfect.

When he tugged his shirt off she gave a low sound of pleasure and let her hands roam over his back, knead into the muscles.

His heart leaped against hers. Those slow, hesitant strokes of her hands were maddening. Wonderful. Her mouth was so soft, so giving. And the way she shivered-nerves and anticipation-when he unhooked her slacks and let them slide to the floor flashed fresh heat into his blood. Gaelic endearments burned in his brain, tumbled off his tongue as he took his mouth over her face, down her throat, once again over those glorious shoulders until her shivers became shudders and her sighs gasps.

Slow down, slow down, he ordered himself. But how could he have known that the need for her would rear up and snap into his soul with jagged teeth? Afraid he would frighten her, he pressed his lips to the curve of her throat and just held her until the rage of it settled again.

She was floating, too tangled in sensations to note the changes of rhythm. Dreamily, she turned her head, found his mouth with hers and slid them both into the kiss. It seemed her bones were dissolving, and the pressure in her belly was glorious. Everywhere he touched, a part of her lit up.

This was making love, was all she could think. At last, this. How could she have mistaken anything else for this?

He had to have more. He slipped the shirt aside and found himself charmed by the simple white bra. To please himself, he trailed a fingertip along the top edge, circled the tiny mole.

Her legs buckled. "Aidan."

"When I saw this little dot this morning," he murmured, watching her face, "I wanted to bite you." When she only blinked at him, he grinned and flicked open the hook of her bra. "It made me wonder what other sexy little secrets you hide under those tidy clothes of yours."

"I don't have any sexy secrets."

The bra fell to the floor. Aidan lowered his gaze, watched the faint flush work over her skin and found it sinfully erotic. "You're wrong about that," he said quietly, then cupped her breasts in his hands.

There, that quick jerk of shock, and the glimmer of surprise in her eyes. Experimentally, he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and watched those sea-green eyes blur.

"No, don't close them," he said as he lowered her to the bed. "Not yet. I want to see what my touching you does to you."

So he watched her face as he enjoyed her, as he learned the secrets she'd claimed not to have. Silky skin and tumbled hair, all smelling of rain. Soft curves, subtle dips. When his workingman's hands skimmed over her, she would quiver. And each secret he discovered was a pleasure to them both.

When he tasted her, the world slipped away until there was nothing but the rage of her own pulse and the hot glory of his mouth on her skin.

Ripe for release, she arched against his hand when he covered her. Moved against him as the ache sweetened and the sweetness became unbearable. His mouth came down on hers, catching her cry of pleasure. He gave her more, more until her breath was sobs and her body molten.

The eyes that so fascinated him were blind now, and her skin glowing and damp. It wasn't only her world that had slipped away, but his as well. She was all that was left in it.

He said her name once, then slid into her. Heat into heat, need into need, strong and deep. Holding there, holding, until she wrapped herself around him.

Joined now, they moved together, long, slow strokes that fed the soul. Dazzled, she smiled. Light shimmered, like the brilliance of the diamond as his lips curved in response and met hers.

This, she thought, was the real magic. The most powerful. And clinging to it, she leaped off the edge of the world with him.

Candlelight fluttered. The fire hissed and rain pinged on the windows. There was a gorgeous, exciting, fascinating, and wonderfully naked man in her bed.

Jude felt like a cat who'd just been given the keys to the milking parlor.

"I'm so glad William's having a baby."

Aidan turned his head, found his face buried in her hair, and angled it away again. "What the devil does William have to do with it?"

"Oh. I didn't realize I'd said that out loud."

"It's no worse than thinking about another man when I've yet to get my breath back after loving you."

"I wasn't thinking of him like that." Appalled, she sat up, too mortified to remember she was naked. "I was just thinking that if he wasn't having a baby, my mother wouldn't have told me, and I wouldn't have gotten upset and come down to the pub and-it all led to here, to this," she finished weakly.

He still had the energy for arrogance. Lifting a brow, he said, "I'd have gotten you here eventually."

"I'm glad it was tonight. Now. Because it was so perfect. I'm sorry. It was a stupid thing to say."

"You're going to have to stop assuming every stray thought that comes out of your mouth is stupid. And since there's a logic to the pattern you just mentioned, I say we drink a toast to the timing of William's virility."

Relieved, she beamed at him. "I suppose we could, though he's not half as good in bed as you are." Instantly her cheery grin became a look of horror. "Oh, what a thing to say!"

"If you think I'm insulted by that, you're mistaken." Chuckling, Aidan sat up as well, and kissed her soundly. "I'd say it's worth another toast. To William's stupidity in not recognizing the jewel he had so she could fall into my hands."

Jude threw her arms around him, hugged hard. "No one's ever touched me the way you did. I didn't think anyone would ever want to."

"I'm already wanting to again." He nuzzled into the curve of her neck. "Why don't we go down and have that wine, and a bit of soup or whatever. Then we'll come back and start all over again?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea." She ordered herself not to feel awkward as she climbed out of bed to dress. He'd already seen all of her there was to see, so it was foolish to be shy now.

Still, she was relieved when she was covered in the borrowed shirt and her slacks. But when she reached for a band for her hair, Aidan laid a hand on her shoulder and made her jump.

"Why are you tying it back?"

"Because it's awful."

"I like it wild." He played his fingers through it. "Sort of rioting around in this lovely dense color."

"It's brown." And she'd always considered it as original as tree bark.

"So's mink, darling." He kissed the tip of her nose. "What'll we do with you, Jude Frances, if you ever take the blinders off and really look at yourself? I think you'll be a terror. Come on now and leave it be," he added and began to tug her toward the door. "I'm the one who's looking at it, after all."

She was too pleased to argue, but took a stand once they were in the kitchen. "You cooked breakfast, so I'll fix dinner," she said and got out the wine. "I'm not much of a cook, so you'll have to make do with my fallback meal."

"And what might that be?"

"Soup from a can and grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Sounds like just the trick on a rainy night." He took the wine and settled at a chair at the kitchen table. "Plus I get the pleasure of watching you make it."

"When I first saw this kitchen, I thought it was charming." She moved to the hearth and lit the fire with an ease that surprised Aidan a little. "Then I realized there wasn't a dishwasher, or a microwave, or so much as an electric can opener or coffee machine."

Laughing, she got a can of soup out of the pantry and set to opening it with her little manual opener. "I was a bit appalled, let me tell you. And I've done more in this kitchen and enjoyed what I've cooked here more than anything I ever put together in my condo. And that kitchen's state of the art. Jenn-Air range, sub-zero refrigerator."

As she spoke, she started the soup, ducked into the refrigerator for cheese and butter. "Of course, I haven't tackled anything complicated. I'm gathering the courage to try to make soda bread. It seems fairly basic, and if I don't mess it up too badly, I could work up to actually baking a cake."

"Have you a yen to bake, then?"

"I think I do." She smiled over her shoulder as she spread butter on bread. "But it's rather daunting when you've never done it before."