"And soon you were released," Lottie said quietly, "in Gentry's place."

"He was buried in a mass grave near the docks, while I went free. And now his name is more real to me than my own."

Lottie was overwhelmed. No wonder he had wanted to keep Nick Gentry's name. In some way he must have felt that he could keep a part of him alive by retaining it. The name had been a talisman, a new beginning. She couldn't begin to understand the amount of shame he had attached to his true identity, believing that he was responsible for his friend's death. It wasn't his fault, of course. But even if she could make him admit the flaws in his reasoning, she could never expunge his guilt.

Lottie slipped out of bed, the thick-piled wool carpeting prickling beneath her bare soles. As she approached him, she was swamped in a sense of utter inadequacy. If she treated him with kindness, he would receive it as pity. If she said nothing, he would take it as a sign of scorn or disgust.

"Nick," she said softly, but he would not face her. She went to stand before him, listening to the broken pattern of his breathing. "You did nothing wrong in calling out for help. And he wanted to help you, as any true friend would. Neither of you did anything wrong."

He dragged his sleeve over his eyes and drew a shuddering breath. "I stole his life."

"No," she said urgently. "He wouldn't have wanted you to stay there-whom would it have served?" A hot trickle touched the corner of her lips, flavoring them with salt. How well she understood guilt, the self-hatred it caused, especially in the absence of forgiveness. And the person that Nick needed forgiveness from was dead. "He can't be here to absolve you," she said. "But I'm going to speak for him. If he could, he would tell you, 'You're forgiven. It's all right now. I'm at peace, and you should be as well. And it is long past time for you to forgive yourself.'"

"How do you know he would say that?"

"Because anyone who cared for you would. And he did care for you, or he wouldn't have risked his life to protect you." Stepping forward, Lottie put her arms around his rigid neck. "I care for you, too." She had to use her full weight to make him bend to her. "I love you," she whispered. "Please don't turn me away." And she brought her mouth to his.

It took a long time for him to respond to the soft pressure of her lips. He made a faint sound in his throat, and slowly his shaking hands came to her face, holding her still while his mouth molded over hers. His cheeks were wet with sweat and tears, and his kiss was bruising in its fervor.

"Does it help to hear those words?" Lottie whispered when his mouth lifted.

"Yes," he said hoarsely.

"Then I'll say them whenever you need to hear them, until you begin to believe." She slid her hand behind his neck and tugged his head down for another kiss.

Nick startled her with his sudden wildness. Picking her up with frightening ease, he carried her to the bed and dropped her to the mattress. He tore his own clothes off, ripping plackets of buttons rather than take the time to unfasten them. Climbing over her swiftly, he straddled her and split the front of her gown with his hands. Dimly she realized that Nick's need to be inside her was so violent that he had lost all self-control. Kneeing her legs wide apart, he pushed the head of his sex against her, demanding entry. Her body was unprepared, her flesh dry and tight despite her willingness to receive him.

Sliding down her body, Nick took her with his mouth, his large hands gripping her hips and pressing them firmly to the bed as she arched upward in surprise. His tongue plunged into her, wetting and softening the tender flesh. Finding the delicate peak just above the vulnerable opening, he drew the flat of his tongue against it, over and over, until he caught the intimate scent of her desire. Levering his body upward, he mounted her again, and drove his hard organ inside her.

As soon as Nick entered her warm body, his blind ferocity seemed to drain away. He hung over her, his muscular arms braced on either side of her head, his chest moving in deep, irregular breaths. Lottie was pinned beneath him, her flesh throbbing around the thick shaft that impaled her.

His mouth came to hers again, this time gentle as he possessed her with long, teasing kisses, the tip of his tongue stroking the insides of her mouth. She had secretly cherished the memory of his other kisses, the sweetly fervent brushes of a stranger's lips...but this was so different, dark and heady and powerful. She ached for his touch, gasping with relief at the soft tugs of his fingers on her nipples. He used all his skill to arouse her, teasing her with shallow strokes that enticed rather than satisfied. Wanting more, Lottie tried to pull him closer. He resisted, maintaining the languid rhythm, hushing her with kisses when she protested. Suddenly he plunged inside her with one long drive. Bewildered, Lottie stared at his intent face. "What are you doing?" she asked faintly.

His mouth brushed over hers with kisses of soft fire. And as he possessed her, she gradually came to understand the pattern he was working within her...eight shallow thrusts, two deep...seven shallow, three deep...progressing until he finally gave her ten heavy, penetrating plunges. Lottie cried out with wrenching pleasure, her hips lifting against his sleek weight as she was filled with volatile sensation. When the burning delight had begun to fade, Nick altered their positions subtly, moving farther over her, nudging her knees wider, adjusting the angle of his sex. He thrust deeply, sealing their bodies together, and circled his hips in a slow, steady rhythm.

"I can't," Lottie said breathlessly, realizing what he wanted, knowing that it was impossible.

"Let me," Nick whispered, tireless and wickedly adept as he continued the gentle circling, using his body to pleasure her.

She was astonished by how quickly the heat rose again, her senses welcoming the patient stimulation, her sex turning slick and swollen as he moved inside her, over her, against her. "Oh...oh..." The sounds were torn from her throat as she reached another crest, her limbs jerking, her cheek pressed hard against his shoulder.

And then he began the entire cycle again. Nine shallow, one deep...

Lottie lost count of how many times he brought her to ecstasy, or how much time passed while he made love to her. He whispered in her ear...endearments...intimate praise...telling her how hard she made him...how sweet she felt around him...how much he wanted to satisfy her. He gave her more pleasure than it seemed possible to bear, until finally she begged him to stop, her body trembling with exhaustion.

Nick complied with reluctance, pushing deep inside one last time, releasing his pent-up desire with a shuddering groan. Compulsively he kissed her again, as he withdrew from her sated body. Lottie barely had the strength to lift her hand, but she caught at his arm and murmured thickly, "Will you stay?"

"Yes," she heard him say. "Yes."

Relieved and tired, she sank quickly into a fathomless sleep.

CHAPTER 13

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, which Lottie had left open the night before to admit the cool air. She yawned and stretched, wincing uncomfortably at the strained muscles in her thighs and the unusual ache she felt in her- Suddenly remembering the previous night, Lottie rolled over. A shiver of pleasure went through her as she saw Nick sleeping on his stomach beside her, his long muscular back gleaming in the rising light. His head was half-buried in a pillow, his lips slightly parted as he slumbered. The growth of a thick night-beard shadowed his jaw, lending a disreputable cast to his handsome face. Lottie had never experienced this kind of passionate interest in anyone or anything...this keen desire to know every detail of his mind, body, and soul...the pure delight of being in his presence.

Propping herself up on one elbow, Lottie realized that she'd never had the opportunity to view him at her leisure. The lines of his body were sleek and strong, his broad back tapering to a lean waist and hips, his flesh densely muscled yet smooth. She admired the solid curve of his buttocks, covered by the sheet that lay low on his hips.

And she wanted to see more of him. Glancing cautiously at his peaceful face, she reached down to the edge of the white linen and began to ease it away from his backside. Lower and lower...

With a swiftness that made her gasp, Nick reached out and seized her wrist. His eyes opened to study her drowsily, and a smile lit the depths of warm blue. When he spoke, his voice was sleep-roughened. "It's not fair to ogle a man while he's asleep."

"I wasn't ogling," Lottie said impishly. "Women don't ogle." She gave him a boldly appraising glance. "But I do like the way you look in the morning."

Releasing her, Nick shook his head with a snort of disbelief, scrubbing his fingers through his disheveled hair. He rolled to his side, revealing a chest covered with thick dark curls.

Tempted beyond her ability to resist, Lottie wriggled closer to him, until her breasts were pressed into the wealth of warm fur. "Did you ever spend the night with your friend?" she asked, entwining her legs with his.

"You mean with Gemma? God, no."

"Then I'm the first woman you've ever slept with," she said, pleased.

He touched her softly, his fingertips tracing the silken curve of her shoulder. "Yes."

Lottie made no protest as he rolled her to her back, his head lowering to her breasts. They were tender and sensitive from his attentions, and she gasped as she felt his hot, gentle tongue swirling over the rosy nipple. Relaxing beneath him, she luxuriated in the tangle of sunshine and white linen, her arms curving around his dark head...