"I'm talking about this." He bent his head and kissed her, a slow, lingering kiss that roused the banked embers of her pa.s.sion. Scant minutes after the most profound lovemaking she'd ever experienced, she ached for his completion again. But she refused to be distracted.

"I knowthat . But what else were you talking about?"

"Rebecca." He pushed himself away, to gaze sternly at her. "There is a time and a place to be a reporter. This isn't it."

"But I-"

He silenced her with a kiss. By the time he lifted his lips from hers, she'd become lightheaded. But she persevered.

"What I-"

He dropped another kiss onto her open lips. "No." A kiss. "More." A deeper kiss. "Questions." A kiss that seemed to reach into her very soul.

Closing her eyes and sighing, she abandoned her questioning. She couldn't recall what was so important, anyway. Nothing mattered except Desmond, and what was happening between them right now.

He rearranged the blanket and pillows so that she nestled in a cloud of softness that supported her but still left her open for his advances. Leaning over her, he kissed and caressed her face, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her neck, her shoulders, until she thought she'd go mad from wanting him. His nearness tantalized her, but every time she reached for him, he shifted out of her way and continued his patient exploration. Giving up, she relaxed and let him have his way.

Chapter 9.

DESMOND WATCHED Rebecca's eyes flutter closed, a gentle half-smile sweetening herexpression. The first time they'd made love, she'd surprised him by reaching out to him with her fledgling telepathic gifts. He'd felt the connection too late to prevent his own surge of power from sweeping through her. The backlash could have killed her, unaccustomed to psychic powers as she was. This time, he intended to give her pleasure without the danger.

He glided a caress down her arm, following it with feather light kisses. He lingered over the sensitive skin of her inner elbow, his tongue flicking out in a Morse Code message of submission and arousal. All the time, he listened to the constant whirl of her surface thoughts, punctuated by soft whimpers and moans.

When she balanced on the edge of agony and ecstasy, he broke off to trail kisses down to her hand.

He nuzzled her palm, and took each finger into his mouth to suck lightly before moving on. He sensed her pleasure, but there were other things she'd enjoy more.

He lavished attention on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, kneading them gently, then covering them with kisses. She whimpered, low in her throat, and he felt himself swelling in sympathetic arousal. Thoughts and images cascaded through his mind, but they were not his.

Trembling, he struggled for control. He finally managed to separate her thoughts from his, while still leaving his mind completely open to her. He'd never lowered his defenses so thoroughly before, but that was the only possible way he could detect a gathering of her telepathic power before she used it.

He swept his tongue over her already sensitized nipple, shivering as her pleasure flowed over him. She arched her back and buried her hands in his hair, drawing him closer. The turbulent wash of images strengthened, drawing his mind closer to hers as well.

They were too close. He pulled free of her mental hold, then reached up and untangled her physical clinch. He guided her hands back down to the bed.

"Lie back. Relax."

For once she didn't argue with him, simply relaxing and trusting him to give her pleasure. He did. With his mental defenses down, he felt the building waves of desire as he caressed her stomach, pressed gentle kisses across her hips, and parted her legs. When he brushed his fingertips lightly across her, her pleasure and need rocketed to new heights.

He lifted his head, his breathing ragged, and admired her taut body, glazed with a sheen of sweat. Her fists clenched the pillow beneath her hips, and her head lashed from side to side in time to her soft moans.

A wild hunger filled him, but he fought to master it. He couldn't give in to the hunger. Not yet.

His arousal pressed against her, and her need sliced through him. Abandoning her pa.s.sive role, she grabbed his b.u.t.tocks and pulled him forward as she arched beneath him. He slid inside her, feeling himself fill her. They cried out together. It was everything, but it wasn't enough.

She moaned, moving beneath him.

"Sh. You'll hurt yourself."

"But I want you."

"Then you shall have me. But gently."

He flexed his hips, moving within her, and she gasped his name. Her nails dug into his back as she urged him onward, but he refused to be rushed.

Beads of sweat ran down from his forehead, stinging his eyes. He blinked, unwilling to close his eyes and shut out the sight of her, flushed with pa.s.sion.

"Please, Desmond. Now."

He slid most of the way out of her. She whimpered, and pierced his back with her nails, driving him forward to fill her again. They sighed as one.

He withdrew, the momentary separation a painful ache until he thrust into her again. The heated slide of flesh inside flesh threatened to send him over the edge, torturing him with her mounting pa.s.sion as well as his own. But her newly awakened mental powers stayed unused.

His next stroke plunged deeper, the one after that deeper still. She writhed and moaned beneath him, an aching void ready for his fulfillment, her mind a whirling maelstrom of power. He thrust again, touching the heart of her. He recognized the first feather touch of a telepathic connection in his mind, then all h.e.l.l broke loose. She spasmed, shaking with the intensity of the pleasure that ripped through her. His body arched, finding its own pleasure, but his mind was lost in the waves of ecstasy flowing over him. They climaxed again, their shared pa.s.sion tearing them apart and putting them together again in a blinding flash of light.

He collapsed on top of her, straining to breathe. Multicolored spots whirled in front of his eyes, and she clutched him in a bear hug. Aftershocks rocked through him, or her, or them. He couldn't tell where she ended and he began. It wasn't possible to be so close to another person, but he was, and he never wanted it to end.

"Oh, G.o.d," he panted. "Rebecca. Marry me."

"Yes."

He couldn't live without her. She couldn't live without him. They were soul mates, completion.

He pressed a kiss to her lips, hard enough to draw blood. But she didn't mind. A gentle kiss couldn't do justice to the awesome power of their union.

When he pulled away, they were both breathless. He shifted his weight off of her, curling up against her side, and pulled the sheet back over them. Without their pa.s.sion to support it, her telepathic link faded, leaving him aching for that unity of spirit. But she had the gifts. All she needed was the training.

He dusted caresses over her shoulder and arm, unwilling to relinquish their bond. She sighed, then ruined the effect by yawning.

He smiled at her, filled with a joyous light that demanded an outlet. Bending his head, he kissed her nose. "Somehow, I don't think this is what the doctors meant when they said you should stay in bed and rest."

"I won't tell them if you won't." She snuggled closer and buried her face in the hollow of his neck. He breathed deep, reveling in the warm feel of her tucked against him, and stirred against her.

He rubbed her back, long soft strokes that soothed and relaxed her.

"Try to get some rest. Or I won't be able to visit you again."

His threat worked. She closed her eyes, and drifted into slumber a few minutes later.

He watched her sleep, smiling at her complete trust. She knew nothing of telepathy, or mental powers, and had no idea what they'd just done. If he tried to explain, she'd think he was lying, or insane.

The explanations could wait. So far, she'd only used her burgeoning telepathic powers during the pinnacle of s.e.xual experience. He needn't worry about her accidentally touching other people's minds.

He dropped a light kiss on her temple, and felt a flutter in his own mind. He stopped. Closing his eyes, he turned his attention inward, to the telepathic union they'd shared. She'd left the mental connection wide open.

Curious, he followed the connection into her dreams. She was replaying their recent lovemaking. He smiled as he retreated, withdrawing his consciousness back into his own mind.

As soon as his thoughts were wholly his own, he began to worry. Without shielding in place, she could unknowingly broadcast her thoughts. Worse yet, she could be p.r.o.ne to mistaking others' thoughts as her own. He would protect her when they were together, but he needed to start training her as soon as possible.

He closed his eyes, dreaming of Rebecca as a trained telepath, and the ecstasy they could share. Now he recognized the feeling her kisses inspired, the feeling he hadn't been able to name before. It had been the merest hint of this profound union. While they made love, he'd actually lost his mind for a moment.

She surrounded him, filled him. He was nothing without her.

He had to have her by his side always. It wasn't love. It was more primal than that. He needed her.

She was his other half. And he would never let her leave him.

DESMOND WOKE to Nurse Peters's startled gasp. She stood in the doorway, her mouth rounded in a comical "O" of disbelief.

He couldn't stop an idiotic grin from covering his face. "You may be the first to congratulate us. We're to be married."

She blinked, a.s.similating that fact, then smiled broadly at the pair in the bed. "Congratulations. But Ms.

Morgan needs her rest." "Of course." Desmond turned to Rebecca, or where she'd been until the nurse arrived. A huddle of blankets confronted him. His bride-to-be was shy.

"Rebecca. Darling. If Nurse Peters was going to censure anyone, it would be me. So poke your head out and accept her congratulations."

Rebecca mumbled ascent and pushed aside the sheet, revealing her crimson face.

"Thank you," she said softly. But her internal monologue carried clearly to him.How could I be so swept away by pa.s.sion that I'd agree to something so stupid? This is all a terrible mistake.

The shock snapped his mental shields up, cutting off Rebecca's unwanted revelations. Second thoughts? They were perfect for each other. She had to see that.

A chill premonition doused the lingering warmth of his happiness. She'd already proved how far she was willing to go in order to escape from situations she found untenable. If she felt that way about their engagement, she might take desperate steps to correct the situation. He couldn't risk losing her.

"Mr. Lacroix?" Nurse Peters asked. "Is something wrong?"

"I just realized that I'll be separated from my fiancee when I go home to look after Gillian. Is there any reason why she can't be released now? I promise I'll look after her very well."

"We have to talk," Rebecca whispered.

"I'll check with the doctor," the nurse answered, gifting them with a knowing grin, "but I'm sure there won't be any problem. In fact, I'll go get him now, and be back in a few minutes."

She hurried from the room, rattling the door k.n.o.b after she left to make sure the door closed securely.

"I believe that's my cue to get dressed," Desmond said, slipping out from beneath the covers without touching Rebecca. He gathered up his clothing, putting it on as he found it. Although his shirt had lost two b.u.t.tons during their frenzied disrobing, he'd lost his soul during the aftermath, the first time they'd made love. That loss couldn't be put right with a tailor's needle.

Rebecca didn't say a word during his search, didn't even look at him. She disappeared under the covers, resurfacing with the hospital gown crumpled in her hand.

"I can't wear this. It's torn."

"Nurse Peters hung your clothes in the closet. I'll get them for you."

"Just the shirt should be fine."

He opened the closet door and pulled out her shirt, the soft cotton reminding him of the way her hospital gown felt as it parted beneath his hands. He could convince her of their rightness for each other if he made love to her again. But there had to be a way to convince her when she wasn't half mad with pleasure, some argument that her rational reporter's brain would accept.

"Here you go." When he handed her the shirt, his fingers brushed hers in a soft caress. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away as if he'd burned her.

"Thank you." She waited, glaring at him. "Well? Aren't you going to turn around?"

"Rebecca, I just kissed every inch of you. There is no reason on earth for you to be bothered by my seeing you."

"You took advantage of me." Her soft voice chilled him, a finger of doubt insinuating itself deep into his heart. Then his anger flared up to burn away his fears.

"And how did I do that? I told you I wanted to wait, for fear of hurting you. You're the one who insisted."

"That wasn't me. It was the drugs."

"Liar. You wanted us to make love as much as I did. If you're upset now, it's because you wanted s.e.x with no strings attached."

He stepped closer to her bed, hands clenched and telepathic powers gathered in readiness for a battle on both fronts. Anger stained her cheeks brilliant scarlet, and the sheet fell forgotten around her waist.

"Why, you-" She raised her arm, her hand open to slap him. She surged forward, then fell back with a cry, her eyes screwed tight against the pain.

"Rebecca!" His anger disappeared, drowned in a sea of cold fear. If she'd injured herself because of him....

"I'm fine," she whispered through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry. Whatever you want is acceptable to me."

"About time."

"Just promise me you won't do anything rash."

"Oh, you mean like agreeing to marry someone I barely know? Okay. I won't."

"No. I meant things that would hurt you." He meant physical pain. But where did one kind of pain leave off and another begin? He didn't want to hurt her in any way. After what they'd just experienced, he knew separation would hurt her. But he couldn't make that decision for her. He couldn't play it safe and back away from the point, either, or she'd never trust him again. He had to go for it, and believe in the strength of their connection.

He took a deep breath. "If that's what you decide you want, I'll accept your wishes."

"You will?" She opened her eyes and looked at him. Pain and confusion clouded her eyes, and he longed to take her in his arms and console her. But he couldn't.

"I will. If what you really, truly want is to be left alone here, I'll tell the doctor that when he comes in.

And then I'll go away and leave you alone."

She frowned. "I don't want to be alone. It's just...Everything's moving so fast."

"I don't want you to be alone, either." He took a chance and sat down on the side of her bed. She didn't tell him to get off. "Why don't we get to know each other, more slowly this time?"

"Yes." She nodded, a faint smile breaking through her restraint. "I'd like that. You can come here-"

"Here?" He may have promised to honor her decision, but he'd do his best to maneuver her into his way of thinking while she was still making up her mind. "I thought you'd want to get above ground as soon as you could."