She was trembling when he dragged his mouth away from hers. Her voice had deserted her, and she had to nudge him toward the side of the bed. When he sat down, she pulled off his shoes and socks.

She stood on the platform between Lyon 's legs and slowly worked the fastenings free on her sleeves. It was an awkward task because she couldn't seem to take her gaze away from Lyon to watch what she was doing.

"You'll have to help me with the back of my gown," she said, smiling because her voice sounded so strained to her.

When she turned around, Lyon pulled her down onto his lap. She fought the urge to lean against him, impatient now to get her scratchy gown out of the way. Her hands reached to her coronet, but she'd only pulled one pin free before Lyon pushed her hands away and took over the task. "Let me," he said, his voice husky.

The heavy curls unwound until the rich, sun-kissed locks fell to her waist. Christina sighed with pleasure. Lyon 's fingers were making her shiver. He slowly lifted the mass to drape it over her shoulder, paused to kiss the back of her neck, and then began the arduous task of unhooking the tiny fastenings.

His heart was slamming against his chest. The scent of her was so appealing, so wonderfully feminine. He wanted to bury his face in her golden curls; he would have given in to his urge if she hadn't moved against his arousal so impatiently, so enticingly.

Lyon was finally able to get her gown open to her waist. She was wearing a white chemise, but the silk material easily tore free when he slipped his hands inside. He found her breasts and cupped their fullness as he pulled her forcefully back against his chest.

Christina arched against him. His thumbs slid over her nipples, making her breath catch in her throat. Her skin tingled when she rubbed her back against the warm pelt of hair on his chest.

"You feel so good, my love," Lyon whispered into her ear. He nuzzled her earlobe as he tugged on her gown, lifting her away from him only long enough to push the garment down over her hips.

Christina was too weak to help. Her hips moved against him. Lyon thought her motions were excruciatingly blissful. He kissed the side of her neck, then her shoulder. "Your skin is so smooth, so soft," he told her.

Christina tried to speak to him, to tell him how very much he pleased her, but his hand slid between her thighs, making her forget her own thoughts. His thumb teased her sensitive nub again and again until the sweet torture threatened to consume her. She called his name with a ragged moan when his fingers penetrated her, then tried to push his hand away. Lyon wouldn't cease his torment, and she was soon lost to the sensations coursing through her, unable to think much at all. She could only react to the incredible heat. " Lyon, I can't stop."

"Don't fight it, Christina," Lyon whispered. He increased his pressure until she found her release. Christina arched against him, called his name again.

He could feel the tremors flowing through her. Lyon didn't remember taking the rest of his clothes off, didn't know if he'd been gentle or rough when he moved her from his lap to the center of the bed.

Her hair fanned out on top of the pillows, shining almost silver in the candlelight. She was so beautiful. She was still wearing her white stockings. He might have smiled, but the surge of white-hot desire consumed him and he couldn't be sure.

He came to her then, settling himself between her thighs, wrapping his arms around her. He captured her mouth in a searing kiss and thrust into her tight, moist heat just as his tongue thrust inside her mouth to mate with hers.

Christina put her legs around him, pulling him deeper inside. She met each thrust completely, forcefully, arching with demand when he withdrew.

They both found their release at the same moment.

"I love you, Christina."

Christina couldn't answer him. The sweet ecstasy overwhelmed her. She felt like liquid in his strong arms, could only hold onto him until the storm had passed.

Reality was slow to return to Lyon. He wanted never to move. His breathing was harsh, erratic. "Am I crushing you, love?" he asked when she tried to move.

"No," Christina answered. "But the bed seems to be swallowing me up."

Lyon leaned up on his elbows to take most of his weight off her. His legs were tangled with hers, and he shifted his thighs to ease the pressure.

His gaze was tender. "Say the words, Christina. I want to hear them."

Because he fully expected to hear her tell him that she loved him, he wasn't at all prepared for her tears. "My sweet?" he asked, catching the first drops that fell from her thick lashes with his fingertips. "Are you going to cry every time we make love?"

"I cannot seem to help myself," Christina whispered between sobs. "You make me feel so wonderful."

Lyon kissed her again. "You sound like you're confessing a grave sin," he said. "Is it so terrible to feel wonderful?"

"No."

"I love you. In time you'll give me the words I want. You're very stubborn, do you know that?"

"You don't love me," Christina whispered. "You love-"

His hand covered her mouth. "If you tell me I love a princess, I'll-"

"You'll what?" Christina asked when he moved his hand away from her mouth.

"Be displeased," Lyon announced, giving her a lopsided grin.

Christina smiled at her husband. Lyon rolled to his side, then pulled her up against him. " Lyon?"

"Yes?"

"Will I always feel as though my soul has merged with yours?"

"I hope so," Lyon answered. "Very few people are able to share what we've-"

"It's destiny," Christina said. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "You may laugh at me if you want, but it was our destiny to be with each other. Besides, no other woman would have you."

Lyon chuckled. "Is that so?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. You're a scoundrel. Why, you ruined my reputation just to get your way."

"But you don't care what others say about you, do you, Christina?"

"Sometimes I do," she confessed. "It's a sorry trait, isn't it? I care what you think of me."

"I'm glad," Lyon answered.

Christina closed her eyes with a sigh. The last thing she remembered was Lyon pulling the covers up over them.

Lyon thought she looked like a contented kitten, curled up against him. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for very long, and the familiar tension settled in the pit of his stomach. The nightmares would certainly visit him again. He hadn't missed a night in over two years. His worry was for Christina, of course. He didn't want to frighten her. No, he knew he'd have to go downstairs and meet his past there, in the privacy of his library.

He closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to savor her warmth just a little longer.

It was his last thought until morning light.