"We're not… finished, are we?" she asked in a tone that conveyed such suppressed dismay he would have chuckled had he been able.

Instead, he offered up a prayer of thanks that she hadn't asked him to stop. "No, sweetheart. We're not finished. But when I breach your maidenhead, it will probably hurt for a moment."

She brushed her wet fingertips over his face. "It couldn't possibly hurt worse than the thought of not sharing this with you. Don't stop. I want to know everything… every sensation. Every touch."

Praying he wouldn't hurt her, he tightened his grip on her hips, surging upward as he pressed her downward. Her eyes widened and she gasped, a sound that pierced his heart.

"God, I'm sorry," he said, forcing himself not to move. "Are you all right?" Damn it, had he been too rough? He should have taken more care. More time. But she'd driven him nearly insane-

"I'm… fine."

Thank God. But his relief instantly turned to sensual torture. Her feminine softness enveloped him like a tight silk glove, and he suddenly questioned his ability to withdraw from her when the time came. Gritting his teeth against the nearly unbearable pleasure, he remained motionless to give her time to adjust to the feel of him. A myriad of emotions flickered across her face… surprise, wonder, then pleasure, seconds later giving way to desire.

"In fact I'm…" She moved her hips, and he touched her a bit deeper, her liquid heat caressing him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and a long sigh escaped her as her lids drifted shut. "Oh, my."

Gripping her hips, he moved within her with an excruciating slowness that nearly killed him, easing nearly all the way out of her, only to slide smoothly back, filling her. Each time it seemed he caressed her deeper, she clenched him tighter, until he shook with burning need. His breathing turned into short, ragged, pants that matched her staccato gasps as his thrusts grew faster, stronger, the water swirling around them, slapping at their writhing bodies. He feared his intensity might frighten her, but she moved with him, her breaths as choppy as his.

"Eric," she moaned. Her legs clamped around his hips like a vise, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest. He captured her against him, holding her so tightly, he didn't know where her skin ended and his began. He felt her orgasm tremble through her with his entire body. Her heart pounded against his, her hips bucked, and her sleek walls spasmed around him, drowning him in the same vortex that took her down.

The instant she sagged against him, he withdrew from her, helpless to hold back his climax another second. Clutching her to him, he buried his face against her fragrant neck, his arousal pressed tightly between them as his release shuddered through him.

He had no idea how many minutes passed before his breathing returned to normal and he could lift his head. When he did, she leaned back as far as his binding arms would permit and their gazes collided.

Pure incredulity glowed from her eyes. "Good heavens," she whispered. "That was…" her voice trailed off into a vaporous sigh.

"Incredible," he offered.

"Indescribable," she agreed.

"Intoxicating."

She reached out and traced his mouth with a single fingertip. "So many 'i' words to describe what you did to me, Eric."

He kissed her finger, then drew it slowly into his mouth, circling it with his tongue before releasing it. "So many 'i' words to describe you, Samantha," he corrected.

She lowered her lashes, and he knew his words brought a blush to her cheeks. "I didn't know people did… this in the water."

"Neither did I."

Her gaze flew to his. "You mean you've never…?"

"In a lake? No. This was a first for me."

A smile of unadulterated delight lit her face, and his throat tightened at the enchanting, sensual picture she made.

"I'm glad this was an adventure for you as well," she said. "I feared my lack of knowledge might bore you."

For an instant the area around his heart went hollow, then flooded with a tenderness he'd never before experienced. How could she not know that she was nothing less than fascinating? In every way? Because so many fools overlook what is right in front of them. Idiots. Yet, he selfishly couldn't deny that what others failed to recognize and admire in her somehow made her seem more his.

Brushing a damp tendril from her cheek, he said, "I assure you, I have never been less bored in my life. Indeed, boredom is not a feeling you have ever once inspired in me. And you are not lacking, Samantha. In any way."

He again sensed her blush, and she glanced downward. "I couldn't help but notice that you withdrew before you…"

"I promised you I would." And you have no idea how the effort nearly killed me.

Raising her gaze to his, she whispered, "I didn't realize that a man's seed was so… warm."

Warm? Hell, scalding was closer to the truth. He'd felt hot enough to heat the entire damn lake. Just recalling the sensation of her wrapped around him, his flesh buried deep inside her, pumped renewed desire through him.

"I think we'd best exit the lake before we become waterlogged." Before I make love to you again. "I hadn't meant to make love to you for the first time in the water?"

Interest flared in her eyes. "Oh? What had you planned?"

"Bringing you to a small lodge on my property." He gazed into her eyes, and his blood stirred. "Would you like to accompany me there now?"

She only said one word, but it was the only word he wanted to hear.

"Yes."

Chapter Sixteen

From the London Times:

The Bride Thief Posse now hails nearly five hundred members, and the price on the Bride Thief's head has grown to ten thousand pounds. There is nowhere in England the Thief can hide now. His days are well and truly numbered.


The following morning, before joining her parents and Hubert in the breakfast room, Sammie peered at herself in the cheval glass in her bedchamber.

How was it possible that she looked the same when everything was so completely, irrevocably different! How could it be that all the extraordinary things she was feeling on the inside did not show on the outside, except perhaps for the color staining her cheeks?

Hugging her arms around herself, she closed her eyes, allowing memories from last night to wash over her. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined the intimacies she and Eric had shared, first at the lake, then at his lodge. The indescribable sensation of lying naked before a man who slowly explored her body with his hands and lips, eliciting a passion in her that she had never suspected herself capable of.

Then, the sheer beauty of exploring his naked body in return as he reclined before the hearth, the fire's glow illuminating a fascinating display of masculine planes and muscles. Endless caresses and whispering as he taught her how to please him, and discovered what pleased her. Long, slow, deep kisses that touched her soul. It had indeed been the adventure of her life… yet so much more.

Opening her eyes, she stared at the unremarkable woman reflected in the glass. What did he see in her? He'd worshipped her last night as if she were a queen, yet there was no denying a man like him could have any woman he wanted. For right now, incredible as it was, he wanted her.

But for how long?

Don't think about it, her heart warned, but her mind refused to listen. She'd be a fool to entertain the notion that she could hold his interest for any length of time. How long before he tired of her? A week? A month? Sharp pain knifed through her at the thought of them parting company. Of never seeing him again. Or worse, seeing him and having to pretend that nothing had ever passed between them. Knowing that he was enjoying the intimacies they'd shared with another woman.

Waves of helpless jealousy washed over her at the thought of him caressing another woman… of someone else touching him. Arousing him. Pleasing him. She pressed her hands to her stomach and fought back the hot tears that pooled behind her eyes, valiantly trying to banish the thought before her heart broke in two. You fool, This was supposed to be an adventure. And look what you've done. You've fallen in love with him.

Why hadn't she warned herself against such a disastrous occurrence? Prepared herself? Why hadn't it occurred to her how utterly logical it was for her to lose her heart to him? He not only possessed every trait she admired in a person, he filled every corner of her mind with romantic dreams that she should dismiss as ridiculous and illogical, but that instead suffused her with… love.

A strangled sound erupted from her throat, and she staggered the few steps to her escritoire, dropping down into the hard wooden chair. She tried to deny her inner voice's words, but there was no point. She loved him. Helplessly. Hopelessly. So many "h" words to describe my feelings for him. And of course there was one more 'h' word-the one that would describe her when their affair ended.

Heartbroken.

He would continue on to the next woman, and she would be left with nothing more than the memories of their time together, for she could not envision ever taking another lover. Not when her heart and soul belonged to Eric.

Rising, she paced the length of the room. The longer she allowed their liaison to continue, the worse her heartbreak would be when it ended. She knew with sinking finality that she would only fall deeper in love with him-and she wouldn't be able to bide her feelings from him for she was not a good actress.