"I don't mind," she repeated, because it was the best she could do.

She didn't move as he stepped toward her, had no idea if she should touch him. She would have liked to run her hands up those arms, they were so strong. But she wasn't sure.

Then she didn't have to worry, or think, or try to guess. He laid his hands on her cheeks, framing her face, and lowered his mouth to hers, so gently, so patiently.

Her heart fluttered, and the sensation was sweet, like something flying silently out of a cage when the door has been opened unexpectedly. When he drew her closer, just a little closer, she thought she floated toward him. Her lips parted on a sigh of quiet wonder.

This was what he meant to do, always. Show her tenderness and care. Let himself slide into her slowly, gently. The dappled shade was perfect, sweetened by the call of birds and the tang of wildflowers.

This was what he'd meant to do, he thought hazily, and deepened the kiss with patient skill until she sighed again.

And all the years he'd waited and wanted seemed like minutes, now that she was here, with him.

The sound of the shouts and laughter from the field beyond was like the buzz of happy bees in her head. She didn't realize she'd lifted her hands, curled them around his wrists, until she felt the strong quick beat of his pulse against her fingers. She held on as lovely colors began to revolve in her head, as the kiss went on and on, spinning out time.

He didn't let her go until her hands had slipped weakly from his wrists to fall to her sides.

Her eyes were still closed when he lifted his head, when he moved his hands from her face to her shoulders. As he watched, she pressed her lips together, as if to draw in that last taste, and savor it.

"Cassie."

She opened her eyes, and they were heavy and clouded and confused. "I don't know what to say now." Yes, she did, she realized. "Will you kiss me again?"

Twelve years of repression kept him from groaning out loud. "Not just this minute," he said, and held her at arm's length. Any closer, and he might just toss her over his shoulder and carry her off behind some handy rock. He wasn't sure either of them was ready for that. "I figure we ought to spread it out a little."

"No one's ever kissed me like that. Made me feel like this."

"Cassie." The words had his libido growing fangs. Snapping down on it, he took her hand. "Let's go back. I... haven't had lunch."

"Oh, you must be starving."

"Right." He could almost laugh at himself as he pulled her back onto the field.

Chapter 5

"I really appreciate this, Cassie." Regan tucked a giggling Nate into his portable swing, then bent over to kiss him as he bounced gleefully. "With out-of-town clients coming into the shop this morning, I just can't keep him with me. And Rafe's got two crews to supervise."

"It's a real hardship," Cassie said from the sink. "I can't think of anything more annoying than having to play with the baby."

"He is wonderful, isn't he? I can't believe he's already five months old." When she cranked up the music on the swing, Nate began to kick his feet in delight. "I nursed him an hour ago, and I've got plenty of bottles here, and diapers, and two changes of clothes, and—"

"Regan, I know what to do with a baby."

"Of course you do." Grinning foolishly at Nate, Regan swept her hair back. "It's just that I know you're so busy with the inn."

"You and Rafe are slave drivers, it's true, but I'm learning to bear up."

Amused, Regan cocked her head. "You're joking, and you're smiling, and I'm pretty sure I heard you singing when I came in."

"I'm happy." Cassie loaded plates into the dishwasher. The breakfast hour was over, and the guests were either gone or relaxing in their rooms. "I didn't know I could be this happy. This is the most wonderful house in the world."

Regan handed Nate a ring of colorful plastic to jiggle. "So working here makes you happy?"

"Absolutely. Not that I wasn't happy working for Ed, but... I love living here, Regan." She beamed at the view from the window. "The kids love living here."

Regan ran her tongue around her teeth. "And that's why you were singing?"

Cassie bent over a little farther, busied herself arranging dishes. "Actually, there is something else. I guess you've got to go open the shop."

"I've got a few minutes. One of the perks of running my own business."

If there was anyone she could talk to, it was Regan. Cassie straightened, took a deep breath. "Devin—it's about Devin. That is, I'm probably making too much of it. Or not making enough of it. It's just, well... Do you want some coffee?"

"Cassie."

"He kissed me," she blurted out, then slapped a hand to her mouth when a laugh bubbled out. "I mean, kissed me. Not like Rafe kisses me, or Shane or Jared. I mean, like... My hands are sweating."

"It's about time," Regan said, with feeling. "I thought he'd never get to it."

"You're not surprised."

"Cassie, the man would crawl naked over hot coals for you." She decided she would have some coffee, and walked over to the stove to pour it herself. "So, how was it?"

Regan's statement had Cassie running a nervous hand through her hair. "How was what?"

With a chuckle, Regan sipped and leaned back against the counter. "I have to figure that he has more in common with Rafe than a quick temper and great looks. So it must have been a pretty terrific kiss."

"It was at the picnic, two days ago. My head's still buzzing."

"Yep. That's a MacKade for you. What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know what to do." Brow creased, Cassie picked up a damp rag and began to wipe the counter. "Regan, I started going with Joe before I was sixteen. I've never been with anyone else."

"Oh." Regan pursed her lips. "I see. Well, it would be only natural to be a little nervous over the idea that you might be heading toward a physical relationship."

Because her palms were indeed damp, Cassie set down the cloth and rubbed them on her apron. "I don't like sex," she said flatly, rattling dishes again so that she didn't note the lift of Regan's brow or the concern in her friend's eyes. "I'm not any good at it, and I just don't like it, anyway."

"Cassie, I know the counseling helped you."

"Yes, it did, and I'm grateful for you persuading me to go. I feel better about myself, and I'm more confident about a lot of things. I know I didn't deserve to be abused, that I didn't cause it, and that I did the right thing by getting out." She let out a breath. "This is a different matter. Not all women are built to enjoy sex. I've read about it. Anyway," she continued before Regan could comment, "I'm getting ahead of myself. But I'm not stupid, Regan. I know that Devin has needs, and I'm prepared to meet them."

"That is stupid," Regan snapped. "Making love is not supposed to be a chore like—like..." Flustered, she gestured to the sink. "Like doing the damn dishes."

"I didn't mean it that way." Because Regan was her friend, she smiled. "What I meant was that I care for Devin. I always have. This is a different level. I didn't know he was attracted to me. I'm so flattered."

Regan's response to that was a muttered curse that only made Cassie's smile widen.

"Well, I am. He's so beautiful, and he's kind. I know he won't hurt me."

"No," Regan said quietly. "He wouldn't hurt you." But, she thought, would you hurt him?

"Kissing him was lovely, and I think having sex with him would be nice."

Wisely, Regan covered her cough with a sip of coffee. If Devin was anything like Rafe, nice was hardly the word. "Has he asked you to bed?"

"No. He wouldn't even kiss me again when I asked him to. That's what I wanted to ask you about. How do I go about letting him know I don't mind being with him—that way?"

It was a tribute to her willpower that Regan didn't goggle. Carefully she set the coffee cup aside. "This goes against the grain for me, Cassie, against every feminist cell in my body, but I have to trust my instincts here, and go with what I know about you and about Devin. I'm going to advise you to let him set the pace, at least initially. Take your cues from him. Just relax and enjoy the ride. I think you can count on him to get you both where you want to go. When you're ready, Cassie. It's important to think of yourself, too, not just Devin."

"So I really shouldn't do anything?"

"Do what seems right to you. And do this—don't compare him with Joe. And don't compare the woman who lived with Joe with the woman you are now. I think you're in for a few surprises."

"I've already had one." Cassie touched a fingertip to her lips. "It was wonderful."

"Good. Keep an open mind." She gave Cassie a quick kiss, bent down to fuss over Nate one last time. "And, Cass, I really wouldn't mind if you sort of kept me up-to-date with the progress."

By mid-afternoon, Cassie had finished the guest rooms, and the laundry, and had Nate tucked in a portable crib in Emma's room for a nap. She'd slipped a chicken in the oven to roast and was giving some thought to tackling the mending when she heard the quick rap on her door.

Her heart did a little flip at the hope that it might be Devin stopping by. But settled again when she saw her mother through the screen.

"Hello, Mama." Dutifully Cassie opened the door and pecked her mother's dry cheek. "It's nice to see you. I've just made some iced tea, and I have some nice cherry cobbler."

"You know I don't eat sweets in the middle of the day." Constance Connor scanned the living area of her daughter's quarters. She wrinkled her nose at the cat that curled under the table. Animals belonged outside.