She was naked under the white robe, her skin glowing warm, getting warmer by the minute. She realized the lapels had gaped open, and she realized the opening had Zach’s attention.

Their silence charged itself with electricity.

She knew she should pull the robe closed again, but her hands stayed fast by her sides.

Zach made a half turn toward her.

His hand slowly moved from her shoulder to her neck, his fingertips brushing against her sensitive skin.

“Sometimes I think they had it easy.” Zach’s voice was a deep, powerful hum.

“Who?” she managed to breathe. Every fiber of her attention was on the insubstantial brush of his hand.

His other hand came up to close on the lapel of her robe. “The pirates,” he answered. “They ravage first, and ask questions later.”

He tugged on the robe, pulling her to him, and his mouth came down on hers. It was hot, firm, open and determined.

She swayed from the intense sensation, but his arm went around her waist to hold her steady as the kiss went on and on.

He tugged the sash of the robe, releasing the knot, so it fell open. His free hand slipped inside, encircling her waist again, pulling her bare breasts against the texture of his shirt.

Her arms were lost in the big sleeves, too tangled to be of any use. But she breathed his name, parted her lips, welcomed his tongue into the depths of her mouth.

His wide hand braced her rib cage, thumb brushing the tender skin beneath her breast. Her nipples peaked, a tingle rushing to their delicate skin. Her thighs relaxed, reflexively easing apart, and he moved between them, the denim of his pants sending shock waves through her body.

He deftly avoided the portrait as he pressed her against the smooth stone of the wall. His hand cupped her breast. His lips found her ear, her neck, the tip of her shoulder, as he pushed the robe off. It pooled at her feet, and she was completely naked.

He drew back for a split second, gazing down, drinking in the picture of her body.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed, lips back to hers, hands stroking her spine, down over her buttocks, to the back of her thighs. Then up over her hips, her belly, her breasts. She gasped as he stroked his fingertips across her nipples, the sensation near painful, yet exquisite.

His hands traced her arms, twining his fingers with hers, then holding them up, braced against the wall while his mouth made its moves on her body. He pressed hot, openmouthed kisses from her lips to her neck, found her breasts, drawing each nipple into the heat, suckling until she thought her legs would give way beneath her.

She groaned his name in a plea.

He was back to her mouth, his hands moving down, covering her breasts, taking over from his lips, thumbs stroking across her wet nipples.

She tangled her hands in his hair, pushing his mouth harder against hers, kissing deeper, mind blank to everything but his taste and touch. One of his hands moved lower, stroking over her belly, toying with her silky hair, sliding forward.

She wrapped her arms around him, anchoring her body more tightly against him, saving her failing legs, burying her face in the crook of his neck and tonguing the salt taste from his skin.

His fingers slipped inside her, and a lightning bolt electrified her brain. She cried out his name, an urgency blinding her. She fumbled with the button on his jeans, dragging down the zipper.

He cupped her bottom, lifting her, spreading her legs, bracing her against the cool wall.

A small semblance of sanity remained.

“Protection?” she gasped.

“Got it.”

One arm braced her bottom, while his hand cupped her chin. He kissed her deeply, their bodies pressed together, her nerves screaming almost unbearably for completion.

“Now,” she moaned. “Please, now.”

It took him a second, and then he was inside her, his heat sliding home in a satisfying rush that made her bones turn to liquid and the air whoosh out of her lungs.

Her hands fisted and her toes curled as she surrendered herself to the rhythm of his urgent lovemaking. Her head tipped back, the high ceiling spinning above her. Lightning lit up the high windows, while thunder vibrated the stone walls of the castle.

She arched against him, struggling to get closer. Her breaths came in gasps, while the pulsating buzz that started at her center radiated out to overwhelm her entire body.

She cried his name again, and he answered with a guttural groan. Then the storm, the castle and their bodies throbbed together as one.

When the universe righted itself, Kaitlin slowly realized what they’d just done.

Bad enough that they’d made love with each other. But they weren’t locked up in some safe, private bedroom. She was naked, in an open room of the castle, where five other people worked and lived. Any one of them could have walked up the staircase at any moment.

She let out a pained groan.

“You okay?” Zach gasped, glancing between them and around them.

“Somebody could have seen us,” she whispered.

He tightened his hold on her. “Nobody would do that.”

“Not on purpose.”

“The staff are very discreet.”

“Well, apparently we’re not.”

“God, you feel good.”

She couldn’t help stealing another glance toward the staircase. “I’m completely naked.”

He chuckled low. “We just gave in, broke all our promises, consummated our marriage, and you’re worried because somebody might have seen us?”

“Yes,” she admitted in a small voice. She hadn’t really had time to think about the consummation angle. More that they had, foolishly, given in to their physical attraction.

“You’re delightful,” he told her.

“That sounded patronizing.”

“Did it?” His voice dropped to a sensual hush, and his mouth moved in on hers. “Because patronizing is the last thing I’m feeling right now.”

His kiss was long and deep and thorough. And by the time he drew back, the pulse of arousal was starting all over in her body. She wanted him. Still.

“Again?” he asked, nibbling at her ear, his palm sliding up her rib cage toward her breast.

“Not here.” She didn’t want to risk it again.

“Okay by me.” He gently eased himself from her body, flicked the button to close his pants, then lifted her solidly into the cradle of his arms and headed for the staircase to his bedroom.

“My robe,” she protested.

“You won’t need it.”


Zach held Kaitlin naked in his arms, inhaling the coconut scent of her hair, reveling in the silk of her smooth skin beneath his fingertips. A sheet half covered them, but his quilts had long since been shoved off the king-size bed.

“This is gorgeous,” she breathed, one hand wrapped around the ornately carved bedpost, as she gazed up at the scrollwork on his high ceiling.

“This is gorgeous,” he corrected, stroking his way across her smooth belly to the curve of her hip bone.

She looked great in his bed, her shimmering, auburn hair splayed across his pillowcase, her ivory skin glowing against his gold silk sheets.

“I never knew people lived like this.” She captured his hand that had wandered to her thigh, giving his palm a lingering kiss.

“It took me a while to figure out some people didn’t,” he admitted.

She released his hand and came up on one elbow. “Were you by any chance a spoiled child?”

“I wouldn’t call it spoiled.” He couldn’t stop touching her, so he ran his palm over the curve of her hip, tracing down her shapely thigh to the tender skin behind her knee. “But I was about five before I realized everybody didn’t have their own castle.”

Kaitlin’s eyes clouded, and she went silent.

He wanted to prompt her, but he forced himself to stay silent.

She finally spoke in a small voice. “I was about five when I realized most people had parents.”

Her words shocked him to the core, and his hand stilled in its exploration. “You grew up without parents?”

She nodded, rolling to her back, a slow blink camouflaging the emotion in her eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, watching her closely.

“My mom died when I was born. She had no relatives that I ever found.”

“Katie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, his heart instantly going out to her.

She’d never mentioned her family. So he’d assumed they weren’t close. He thought maybe they lived in another part of the country, Chicago perhaps, or maybe California.

“She either didn’t know, or didn’t say who my father was.” Kaitlin made a square shape in the air with both hands. “Unknown. That’s what it says on my birth certificate. Father-unknown.”

Zach’s hand clenched convulsively where it rested on her hip.

“I never knew,” he said. Though he realized the statement was meaningless. Of course he never knew. Then again, he’d never asked. Because he hadn’t wanted to know anything about her personal life. He simply wanted to finish off their business and have her gone.

Now, he felt like a heel.

“I used to wonder who she was,” Kaitlin mused softly, half to herself. “A runaway princess. An orphan. Maybe a prostitute.” Then her voice grew stronger, a trace of wry humor in its depths. “Perhaps I’m descended from a hooker and her customer. What do you suppose that means?”

Zach brushed a lock of her hair back from her forehead. “I think it means you have a vivid imagination.”

“It could be true,” Kaitlin insisted.

“I suppose.” Since the idea didn’t seem to upset her, his fingertips went back to tracing a pattern on her stomach. “I guess I’m the rouge pirate, and you’re the soiled dove.” He brushed his knuckles against the skin beneath her bare breast. “Just so you know. That’s working for me.”

She lifted a pillow and halfheartedly thwacked him in the side of the head. “Everything seems to work for you.”