As his body slid next to hers the memory of another night in a barn loft flooded his senses. He'd thought he was in death's grip when she lay beside him, giving him her warmth. He'd been past caring about life, then she'd moved her body against his, showing him what he'd miss if he gave up. When the pain had been too much for him to bear, he'd reached for her, and the warmth of her body next to his had given Hunter reason to fight.

Now she pulled his hands around her, cuddling against him, her body wanting more than just warmth. "Darling, what are you doing? Much as I'd like to, we have no time."

She lifted his hand and laid it across her lace-covered breast as her lips burned across his cheek.

"We can't do this now!" Hunter's voice was low with passion. All the time he'd wanted her, and always she'd pulled away. Now she was giving, and his rational mind ordered him to stop. "We can't…"

In answer she shoved his hand lower, pushing the lace from the velvety globe of her breast so that his fingers were filled with her flesh. Her mouth covered his protests as her hands slid beneath his shirt to glide over his chest.

Finally, when Hunter could pull his lips from hers, he mumbled, "We must stop. This is madness, angel." She was kissing his face, ignoring his protests. "We'll be in Washington soon. I'll make love to you in a proper marriage bed."

She laughed at his hesitation. Pushing his hands over her hips as she knelt above him, she slowly untied her camisole. The morning light had turned the inside of the basket from chocolate to milky gray. When the first tie lay open, she worked on the second. "Tell me to stop, my love, and I will." She'd been so near death a few hours before that now she wanted only to taste life. "Just say one word. Order me to stop."

Hunter was silent.

"Tell me you haven't longed for me in your dreams as dearly as I've longed for you." The second tie fell free, opening Perry's very heart to this man she'd loved from the moment she'd seen his face. "Tell me you don't love me and I'll stop this torture." She twisted the bow loose on the next tie. "From the moment we met, we've never known how much time we would have together." Perry pulled the last ribbon free and the camisole fell open. "But we have this moment, and for me it is my lifetime."

Hunter watched her with passion-filled eyes, loving, wanting, and cherishing her all at the same time. She lowered her mouth over his and began driving him mad with her feather-light kisses. "Tell me to stop, my love," she whispered against his open mouth, "or make love to me." With her final demand she lowered her bare breasts against his chest.

He surrendered willingly, twisting her in his embrace until he lay atop her. "I'll make love to you, my angel, now and for the rest of my life."

There was no more time for words as he undressed and lay beside her. Gently he kissed her body and moved his fingers over every inch of her flesh, forever branding her as his own. His fingers glided as smoothly as the balloon crossing a cloudless sky. The taste of her was as clean and fresh as mile-high air over snowcapped mountains. He was drifting into a passion that spanned his life's horizons and to which there'd never be a setting sun. He'd reached for an angel and captured perfection in his arms.

She followed his lead, loving the way his muscles tightened beneath her touch. Running her fingers over the scar on his shoulder, she remembered every time he'd held her, every moment his lips had touched hers, but none were as sweet as this moment, this time. There was no taking in his actions but only a giving-a giving of all the love he'd banked for a lifetime.

When he entered her, she didn't cry out in pain. All the discomfort was drowned in a flood of pleasure. They were together as one, and he found the piece that had always been missing from his life. He belonged to her as completely as she belonged to him. As he moved within her they floated to heaven and sealed for eternity a bond between them.

Stretching with the sweet pleasure that filled her, Perry drifted back to earth. She curled beneath Hunter's arm and fell asleep. No matter what happened, she knew he loved her, and that, somehow, was all that mattered.

Hunter lay awake, loving the way she felt in his arms. A tight knot twisted in the pit of his stomach. He loved her, totally and completely. When she'd given herself to him, it had been Hunter who'd surrendered his heart. He had sworn never to care deeply for a woman, but she'd broken down all his defenses. And now she was at the very core of him.

He smiled finally, understanding his father and grandfather. He wanted a lifetime with Perry, but even if he had only this one moment, it would be worth all the pain of losing her.

Hunter leaned to kiss her sleeping forehead as the sound of the creaking barn door reached his ears, shattering the peace from his mind.

Chapter 37

"Get dressed!" Hunter whispered as footsteps shuffled through the hay outside the basket.

He silently pulled on his clothes. The barn door creaked again, louder, bolder. Hunter jerked on his boots and listened.

"What ya doing in here?" a man shouted.

Abram's voice was calm. "Don't see that it's any of your concern, Preacher, but I'm getting this balloon ready.''

"Where is Hunter Kirkland?'' It was obvious the minister saw no need to waste time being polite to the huge black man.

"I haven't seen him in a while," Abram answered. Hunter gently touched her shoulder, warning her to be silent.

Cleland's voice snapped, "What's that you got there?" "Supplies."

"Well, if you see Mr. Kirkland, you might tell him Id like to speak with him before he leaves. I'll be back later."

Abram's voice was frigid. "You do that, Preacher."

As the side door slammed behind the minister, Hunter casually slid from beneath the basket. "Morning."

"Morning." Abram showed no surprise at Hunter's sudden appearance. "I brought you and Miss Perry some breakfast." He lay a basket on the workbench. "Biscuits with sausages dipped in honey."

Hunter accepted one. "Let's give her some privacy while we spread the balloon out between the barn and the house." Hunter was having trouble controlling his smile. He wanted to shout across the heavens. He was the luckiest man alive. But he cleared his throat and tried to sound calm. "I'm ready to get back to Washington and a normal life."

"Me too." Abram studied his captain. "Is the little lady coming with us this time?"

Hunter faced his old friend. "She'd be safer here, but I love her too much to leave her behind."

Laughter bubbled from Abram. "It sure took you long enough to realize it. I was beginning to think you hit your head when you fell from the sky the last time. There isn't a place on this earth that little lady will be safer than between us."

Hunter ignored his teasing as he worked. "What happened with the men at Wade's place?"

Abram lifted the ropes and followed. "I stayed back and watched for about an hour. The house caught fire during all the shooting. They were waiting around for the blaze to die down. My guess is they'll identify Wade's body as yours and proclaim themselves heroes by the time they get back to Raleigh."

Hunter agreed, knowing that the kind of men who hunted in gangs were usually not long on bravery, nor intelligence.

By the time the balloon was ready for flight, the minister reappeared like polecat stink after a rain. He hurried toward Hunter, obviously a man with a mission.

"Mr. Kirkland!" he shouted. "I would like to speak to you before you leave."

Hunter nodded, having already decided to donate the land close to the church for the new building to stand on. His dislike for the reverend had been the only thing that had kept him from making the announcement.

As Reverend Cleland skirted the balloon Hunter looked toward the barn. He was unprepared for the beauty that stepped into the sunlight. Her hair tumbled around her like sunlit ebony, and her cape flowed around her like royal robes.

She walked toward him, and he suddenly knew that in fifty years shed still look the same to him. She was all that was perfect in the world, all that was beauty.

Perry smiled. "Is something wrong, Mr. Kirkland?"

"Yes," Hunter whispered. "Marry me."

"Now?"

"At this moment." Suddenly Hunter could wait no longer to share his name or his life. He pulled her toward the balloon.

"Reverend Cleland, I must leave, but I want you to know that I left the acres beside the church to the building fund."

Cleland clapped his hands. "Oh, that is wonderful. Just wonderful."

Hunter interrupted his celebration. "I ask only one favor. This lovely lady and I wish to be married."

Cleland's face dropped suddenly. "That's impossible. I was led to understand she was your, well, your"-he didn't dare say what he thought-"your houseguest." The thin man began to sweat. "That was bad enough, but marrying her… well, that just can't be done."

"I don't care what you thought, but you best take care with your speech." Hunter's eyes turned a cold gray. "The lady will be my wife. You are licensed to marry folks?"

"Certainly." The reverend moved a few feet away. "Only if you wed this woman, you'll be arrested."

"What!" Hunter exploded. He grabbed the man by the lapels and almost shook religion from him with one mighty jolt. "You'd better explain, for I assure you, sir, I do plan to marry this lady."

"I wasn't planning on mentioning this." The minister pulled a paper from his pocket. "But your cousin came by to see me a few days ago. He feared something like this might be attempted, and he wanted to protect you. He gave me this document, which states that Allison McLain, Perry's mother, was the daughter of a slave from Three Oaks. There's even a letter here from Allison's father testifying to the fact."