A primitive shudder trembled through her body and refused to stop. How could she ever have thought Zach could survive cooped up in an office? He belonged here with the woods behind him, the wind ruffling his hair, the earth close. During the day, Zach was often friend, always husband, and at any hour lover. At night Zach was mate, and the word connoted for Bett a very secret, primal facet to loving that she’d never understood before knowing him. Some wild creatures chose their mates for life. Zach always gave her that feeling when he came to her, that he would claim what was his, that he would protect as well as take, that he would possess at a level far more complex than just the sexual one.

She felt all of that as he slid down next to her. His skin was so cool. She felt surrounded by the sweetness of grass and darkness. His eyes locked on hers, and then traveled down, an appraisal of her nakedness that curled her toes, a slow caress of sight instead of touch. His head bent over her, and his lips dosed first on one breast, then the other. Bett arched beneath him, her hands sliding down over the smooth, firm flesh of his back. His tongue flicked delicately on one nipple, and an involuntary whimpering sound emerged from her throat.

Zach stole that sound in a kiss that shared tastes they both knew well. Never, never well enough. The hunger was so very sweet, a secret rush of sheer pleasure that came from knowing exactly what Zach could do with his lips and hands and his body joined with hers. Her breath quickened; his grew harsh, and then his touch gentled. They drew apart a little. The first surge of passion gradually slowed as they both sought to prolong their sweet, warm night.