Her head swam with mixed emotions. Being in his arms, feeling his lips on hers, tasting him; it all felt so wonderfully right, no matter how wrong it was. This was the energy, the passion of life, the very soul of her existence that she hadn’t even realized she’d been searching for.

This, Grace decided as he ruthlessly awakened her emotions, was about as real as it got. She was in the arms of the man she wanted to belong to for the rest of her life.

Passion rose inside her. She had fallen in lust with Greylen MacKeage the moment she’d met him. She’d fallen in love when she had trusted him enough to let him seal her into an ice cave.

“I love you,” she whispered into his mouth. “I love you.”

Grace’s world tilted on its axis before she had finished her declaration. She found herself being carried up the mountain, the summit house suddenly appearing out of the mist. Grey turned with her still in his arms and tried the knob. When it wouldn’t open, he simply used his foot and kicked in the door.

He carried her inside and suddenly stopped, looking around and frowning. He finally lowered her feet to the floor and left her standing in the middle of the large summit house. He walked to the huge granite fireplace and struck a match to the already prepared kindling and logs. He then walked around the room, pulled cushions off several of the chairs, and threw them on the floor in front of the hearth.

He looked back at her once, as if checking to see if she was still there, then continued his work, pulling a blanket from a shelf near the hearth and tossing it down on the pillows. Grace took off her jacket and silently, albeit shakily, walked over and began arranging the pillows into a bed.

No regrets. No second thoughts. Grey obviously wanted this to happen, but Grace decided she wanted it more. She had known it was inevitable the moment she’d felt him behind her in the lift shed, waiting for her to place the call that would give them this time alone together.

She sat in the middle of her newly made bed and watched him prop the broken door closed to keep out the weather. The dry kindling in the hearth suddenly popped with exploding sap, and Grace jumped.

She didn’t have any more clue about what she was doing than Grey had a clue about her history with men. All she knew was that Greylen MacKeage was about to discover she couldn’t possibly be Baby’s mother.

Chapter Twelve

The poor woman was sitting in the middle of the cozy nest of pillows she’d put together, not a drop of color in her face. Her blue eyes were as wide as saucers, and she looked as if the touch of a feather might shatter her composure.

If he were a gentleman, he would sit beside her and talk to her a bit, gentling her fears and giving her time to come to terms with what was about to happen. Yes, if he were even a little bit civilized, he would at least explain that once they made love there was no going back. That she would be his, and no one, not even God himself, could alter that truth.

Grey took off his jacket as he silently walked toward her. He would undress Grace with all the care a queen deserved, and then he would make love to her until she understood what he couldn’t put into words.

And then he’d make love to her again.

Grey took a seat beside her on the cushions, ignoring the fact that she flinched when he did. He wrapped an arm around her stiff shoulders and placed his other hand under her chin to lift her mouth to his.

She was warm and sweet and tasted like the cocoa she had drunk from the thermos before they had climbed into the snowcat. Grey had been amused when she had swilled the hot drink down as if it was Scotch, as if it would settle her nerves.

It hadn’t helped her then and it wasn’t helping her now, if her trembling was any indication. Grey lay back on the pillows and turned to settle Grace beneath him.

God, she was precious. Warm, vibrant, filled with a passion he knew was churning just below the surface. He never stopped kissing her as he untucked her shirt and pushed it up to her chest. She was gripping his hair now and finally kissing him back. Grey found the clasp at the front of her bra and opened it, pushing it aside and covering her breast with his hand.

She moaned deep in her throat, arching her breast into his palm. Her nipple sprang to life as he teased it gently, and the woman beneath him squirmed until her hips were directly against his erection.

She let go of his hair and began caressing his shoulders, then ran her fingers down the length of his arms.

A surge of energy spiked through his body. She pulled her mouth free and started kissing his jaw as she tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it out of his pants. Grey brushed the hair from her face and began kissing her cheeks, her nose, her closed eyes.

She wasn’t having much luck undressing him, probably because his shirttail was caught on the bulge in his trousers. Grey leaned away and quickly pulled off his sweater and undershirt. He took her back in his arms and began kissing her again. Her hands immediately went to his chest, and she moaned into his neck.

“Yes,” she said on an excited, breathless whisper. “Take off your pants.”

He pulled back and looked at her. He couldn’t have spoken if he wanted to. This beautiful, precious woman wanted him with a fierceness that was nearly overwhelming. She was no longer pale but flushed all the way to her hairline. Her eyes were open, staring at him with such intensity that Grey had to close his own eyes and take a deep breath before he stripped them both naked and drove himself into her.

So he left his pants on for now. He unfastened her belt instead, teasing the tender skin of her belly as he did, fighting his urgency as she continued to run her hands through the hair on his chest. Then her tongue darted out and licked one of his nipples.

His groan echoed off the high ceiling. He throbbed with a heaviness that was almost impossible to hold in check. Grey clenched his jaw as he felt himself break into a sweat.

With dogged determination, and a few prayers for control, Grey slid her pants down to her boots. The flush of her skin traveled the length of her. Her beautiful body slowly emerged, glistening with life in the glow of the firelight.

She was flawless. Her skin felt like silk under his fingers. Her own fingers continued to explore the parts of his body she could reach, tugging to pull him closer.

He couldn’t untie her wet boots. Grey cursed under his breath. With a violent tug, he finally got them off and threw them away, hearing them land someplace across the room. He stripped her pants completely off, and she immediately wrapped one silky leg around him.

That simple action was his undoing. Grey unfastened his own pants and pushed them down to his knees.

He settled between her thighs and held himself over her.

“Grace. Look at me, lass.”

She did, and Grey was stunned by the fire he saw in her eyes. “N-now,” she said with trembling urgency, lifting her hips as she wrapped both her legs around his waist. “Please, Grey. I want you.”

He bent down and took one of her nipples in his mouth. Grace arched against him with a shout of pleasure. His whole body shook with barely leashed power. He touched her between the womanly folds that guarded her from him now, his fingers moving through her wetness as he made her ready to take him.

He had been ready for more than eight centuries to claim Grace, the one woman in the world meant for him.

Grey centered himself over her and gently pushed against the wet, hot core of her womanhood. She offered only minor resistance as he moved deeper within her.

Until he suddenly came to her maidenhead.

“Grace,” he repeated, his voice a whisper as he strained to hold himself still. It was not an easy task.

Grace Sutter was a virgin, and every instinct, every primitive male cell in his body, was screaming to claim her.