She nodded. “The day we walked along the beach after your father was buried. You told me this stone would guarantee me a win in any skipping contest.”

“And you’ve kept it all this time?”

“Yes. I drilled a hole in it and wear it around my neck. Every day.” A self-conscious-sounding huff escaped her, and she repeated his earlier words. “A good luck charm of sorts, I suppose.”

His heart seemed to shift in his chest, as if whatever anchored it in place had lurched free of its moorings. Then just as she’d repeated his words, he repeated hers. “I’m honored, Cassie.”

He watched her tuck the necklace back into her bodice, imagining the stone nestled warmly between her breasts, then slipped his handkerchief back into his pocket.

“Thank you for holding me, Ethan,” she said. “I…I haven’t been held in a long time.”

Bloody hell, how many times could his heart break in one day? His arms instinctively tightened around her, and she responded in kind. And suddenly he was very much aware of the fact that they touched from chest to knee. That with every breath his head filled with the subtle scent of roses rising from her soft skin. That her lips were only inches from his.

Desire hit him with a low, hard, visceral punch that threatened to buckle his knees. His inner voice warned him that in spite of his earlier intimation that she risked more than a walk by accompanying him, only a cad would take advantage of her obvious vulnerability. His conscience demanded that he release her and step away. And he would have, surely he would have, but then her gaze lowered to his mouth.

He felt that look like a caress, and his gaze riveted on her lush lips. In his fantasies he’d kissed them countless times. There were reasons…so many reasons why he shouldn’t, yet suddenly he couldn’t recall one of them.

Unable to stop himself, he lowered his head, slowly, certain she would push him away, tell him to stop. But instead she raised her face and closed her eyes.

As if in a dream, he brushed his lips over hers, a whisper of a touch that jolted heat to his every nerve ending. With his heart thundering hard enough to crack his ribs, he kissed her slowly, gently, with infinite care as if she were a fragile treasure, circling his lips over hers, lightly touching the corners of her mouth, then returning to her lips. And surely that’s all he would have done, all he’d intended to do-but then she whispered his name, a soft, breathy, husky sound that unraveled him. Her lips parted beneath his, and with a groan that drowned out the sound of his good intentions crumbling to dust, he sank deeper into the kiss.

His tongue slipped into the silky sweet warmth of her mouth, and everything faded away except her. Her delicious taste. The delicate scent of roses wafting from her skin. The feel of her lush curves pressed against him. The sound of her husky moan. They all inundated his senses, and he gathered her closer. She rose up on her toes, straining against him, and with a growl he lifted her straight up, then stepped deeper into the cool shadows, into a curve in the rocks that shielded them from the wind and prying eyes, should anyone venture onto the deserted beach.

Without breaking their kiss, he turned, propped his back against the rock wall and spread his legs, drawing her into the vee of his thighs. Where she fit as if made just for him.

One deep kiss melted into another, filling him with an overpowering need to simply devour her. And he damn well might have except she kept distracting him. Squirming against him. Tunneling her fingers through his hair. Rubbing her tongue against his. Clutching his shoulders. As if she craved him as much as he craved her.

He slid one hand down her back and splayed it against her bottom, pressing her tighter against his aching erection, while his other hand came forward to cup her breast. Soft fullness filled his palm and her nipple pebbled. Mentally cursing the material that separated their skin, he teased the aroused tip between his fingers.

But again she distracted him, this time running her hands over his chest, kneading his muscles, flashing fire through him. His pulse roared hot through his veins, pounding in his ears, throbbing between his legs. Helpless to stop himself, he rubbed himself against her. The taste of her in his mouth, the feel of her hands on him, her body undulating against his, stripped him of his last bit of control. If he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t be able to.

He managed to drag his lips from hers, but couldn’t keep from exploring the temptation of her slender neck, savoring the vibrations against his lips when she expelled a long, husky groan. God, she felt so good. Smelled so good. Tasted so good. And he’d wanted her for so damn long.

After pressing one last lingering kiss to the satiny skin behind her ear, he drew a shaky breath and forced himself to straighten.

Looking down at her, he bit back an agonized groan. With her eyes closed, hair wildly mussed from the wind and his impatient hands, cheeks flushed cherry-red, and lips moist and parted, she looked aroused and thoroughly kissed and more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen.

Her eyes slowly blinked open, and she gazed at him with a dazed expression. He lifted one unsteady hand to brush back a stray curl from her flushed cheek, then gently glided the pad of his thumb over her plump lower lip. The need to say something gripped him, but words failed him. All he could do was look. And feel. And want.

“Ethan…” The sound of his name, uttered in that husky, aroused rasp, tightened his every muscle with need. She framed his face between her hands, and he felt the slight trembling of her fingers as they feathered over his skin. As if she were trying to memorize his features with her fingertips.

“So this is what kissing is supposed to be like. I was married for ten years and never knew.”

She sounded as dazed and bemused as he felt. If he’d been able to form a coherent sentence, he would have told her that he didn’t know kissing could be like that, either, although he’d always known it would be like that with her. How could it not with a woman who made his heart pound with a mere look? He knew in his soul he’d never be able to erase the taste of her, the feel of her-every detail was burned into his mind, branded in his senses.

And tomorrow she would be gone.

Taking his heart with him.

Just when he’d decided that perhaps there was a tiny piece of it left to give to Delia.

Half of him wouldn’t trade the last few moments, this entire day, with Cassie for anything.

The other half wished she’d never come back. Because now he craved her even more. He could barely contemplate dredging up the strength to unwrap his arms around her and set her away from him so they could return to the inn. How the bloody hell was he going to stand watching her leave tomorrow?

He didn’t know. But one thing he did know.

They still had tonight.

“Cassie-”

She touched her fingers to his lips and shook her head. “Please don’t say you’re sorry.”

Reaching up, he lightly clasped her hand and kissed the soft, pale skin of her inner wrist. And enjoyed her quick in-take of breath. “I’m not sorry. I’m…” His voice trailed off, and he brought her hand to his chest, then pressed her palm to the spot where his heart thudded in hard, fast beats.

“You’re what?” she asked in a breathless voice.

“Hungry for more. Cassie, you asked me to spend the day with you. Now I’m asking you to spend the night with me.”