"Even if it means going in debt up to your eyebrows? You could end up like your father, a struggling, middle-aged rancher with broken down equipment, old nags in the stable, and a son who resents you because he can't go off to college. Is that what you want, all your dreams turned to dust?"

"Being with you is my dream now. And being like my father wouldn't be so bad. He's a damned fine man."

"I didn't mean to imply he isn't. I just-oh, never mind! You're not being realistic about this. Have you ever even been around a blind person?"

"No, I haven't."

"I rest my case."

He straightened away from the doorway. "You're not giving me a whole lot of credit here." Anger seeped into his voice. "Do you honestly believe I'll just turn off my feelings if life gets difficult, that I'll stop loving you because it's not easy? That's not who I am. It's not how I'm made."

She covered her face with her hands. "I know that, Hank. That's the whole problem. Don't you see? You'd grin and bear it, and I'd feel guilty for messing up your life."

"Do you love me?" he asked quietly.

"No," she said, the denial muffled by her hands.

"Look at me when you say it, damn it."

She dropped her arms. Her expression had gone com-pletely deadpan, every muscle in her face carefully held in check. Ah, but her eyes. They couldn't lie. Hank gazed into them and had his answer. He moved toward her.

"I'm not the only one who's fallen in love."

She flopped over onto her back and jerked the sheet up to her chin. "You're out of your mind."

"Maybe, but it's a good kind of crazy." The edge of the mattress bumped Hank's shins. He rested his hands at his hips and stared down at her. "This puts a whole new slant on things. If you love me and I love you, meaningless sex is an impossibility."

"I do not love you. I can't love you. You're completely wrong for me, and I'm completely wrong for you. I absolutely, unequivocally do not love you.""Love isn't a decision, Carly. It's a feeling. You can't force it, and you sure as hellcan't reject it. It just happens. Forget about the impact it may have on my life andanswer my question. Do you love me?"

"Just go back to bed."She turned onto her side, presenting him with her back, the sheet twisted around herlike a shroud. Hank sat next to her, staring thoughtfully at the back of her head.

Then he trailed a fingertip down her spine. She jumped as if he'd touched her with ahigh-voltage prod."Stop it!" she said waspishly.He smiled slightly and did it again. Same reaction. He took that as an encouraging sign and promptly jerked the sheet away. That brought her around to face him."What do you think you're doing?"

"Exploring the possibilities.""We've just concluded that there are none." She slapped at his hand when he reachedto touch her cheek. "Stop it, I said."

"Why?""Because!""Evasive answer. Give me a reason.""There's no future in it You want forever. I can't promise you that. End of conversation.""Can you promise to give it your best shot?""Give what my best shot?""Forever," he said softly. He brushed at a tear on her cheek, loving her so much it was almost a physical ache. "No guarantees. If everything goes to hell, and we can'tfix it, I won't hold you to the promise. But if it can be fixed, if we can figure out away to make it work, the promise stands. How does that sound?"

Her eyes went bright with tears. "You have no idea what marriage to a blind person will be like."

Heaven. "Let me find out."

"You're crazy."

Clear over the edge and hanging on by my fingernails. "Yeah, crazy about you."

"I'm afraid you'll come to hate me."

"Never. When you do go permanently blind, whether it happens in five years or thirty, I want to be the guy who holds your hand and takes you for evening walks. I want to be the guy who draws pictures with words so you can still see the sunsets- or the first light of dawn. I want to be the guy whose face you memorize with your fingertips. When our child graduates from college, I want to be the lucky bastard beside you, the one whispering in your ear so you can see it all in your mind. I'll look at you and think you're the best thing that ever happened to me. That's what I'll think. And I'll thank God you stayed with me." His throat went tight. "You know why? Because if you don't, something inside of me will die, Carly Jane. You seem to have the mistaken idea that I can simply decide not to love you, that I'll move on and find someone else. Well, let me tell you something. Coulter men aren't built that way. When we love, we love with everything we've got, and we don't change our minds, ever."

"Oh, Hank," she whispered tremulously.

"Give me a maybe," he pleaded. "Tell me you'll give forever your best shot. Is that so much to ask? Nothing written in stone. If everything goes to hell in a handbasket, you can still back out. Just say that you'll stay with me as long as you can. We'll take it one day at a time."

"You have no idea how much I want to say yes. You have no idea."

He was inches away from crawling into bed with the lady. Only some things couldn't be rushed. This was one of them. Until they reached some sort of resolution, she was too upset and worried to melt into his arms.

"If you want to say yes, what's holding you back?"

"You have to promise me that the 'no guarantees' thing will go both ways. I have to know you won't stay with me out of a sense of duty. Otherwise, no, Hank, I can't say I'll give it my best shot."

"I swear to you that I'll never stay with you out of a sense of duty," he promised her, and he meant it from the bottom of his heart. Love would be what bound him to her, nothing else. "You have my oath on it. If things ever reach that point, we'll cash in our chips and call it done."

She peered up at him through the gloom, clearly trying to read his expression and not succeeding. Hank grazed the backs of his knuckles along her fragile cheekbone, then smoothed her hair, waiting for her response.

"All right," she finally whispered. "I'll give it my best shot."

Relief flooded through him. He was shaking as he stretched out beside her. Looping his arm over her waist, he rolled her to face him. He wiped the tears from under her eyes, kissed the tip of her nose. Spiked with wetness, her lashes fluttered upward. Her eyes shimmered in the moonlight like quicksilver.

"I love you, Carly Jane," he whispered. "I think I lost my heart to you the first time I saw your sweet face, and I was just too damned drunk to realize it."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. "You could have anyone you want. I never meant for this to happen."

He kissed her hair, nuzzled his way to her ear. "If I can have anyone I want, I choose you. As for intending to fall in love, it doesn't happen that way. Love just runs up and bites you on the ass."

She laughed wetly. "What a romantic analogy."

He grinned and tightened his arm around her. "You did ask for romantic. Remember?" His smile slowly faded. Burying his face in her curls, he just held her for a time, savoring the feeling of her softness pressed against him. "Ah, Carly, I love you so much. Don't worry. Please? We can conquer anything."

She shivered when he touched the tip of his tongue to the edge of her ear. He smiled and dipped his chin to nibble on her earlobe, which sent another shudder coursing through her. He flattened his hand on her back, tracing her spine with his fingertips. She sighed and pressed closer.

"Oh, Hank. I love you, too," she murmured. "I love you, too."

He drew back to unfasten the buttons of her nightgown. When he'd dispensed with the fourth one, she said, "I may not be very good at this the first few times. I haven't had much practice."

He searched her face. "Are you nervous?"

"A little."

They couldn't have that. He wanted this time to be perfect for her. "What we need here is a lead-in."

"A what?"

"A lead-in. Instead of going at it like we're killing snakes, let's forget about having sex for the moment and just enjoy being together."

She looked relieved. "That sounds good." Her brow creased in another frown. "When will we have sex then?"

Within five minutes, if he had his way. "When it feels right."

In her prim, long-sleeved gown, she'd never looked more like an angel. Hank lightly touched her hair, then her arm, fully prepared to commit a sacrilege.

She smiled hesitantly. He grasped her chin. In the moonlight, she looked too lovely to be real. He lifted his head and lightly touched his mouth to hers. She tasted just as sweet as he remembered-hesitant but willing, her lips soft and warm and deliciously moist. He curled a hand over her hip and felt her shiver at the press of his fingers.

Carly's breath started to come in short, ragged bursts. She couldn't help but remember the last time with him and feel a little afraid. When Hank bent toward her again, she pressed a hand to his jaw, thinking to hold him away, only somehow, between thinking and doing, she felt the cool strands of his hair moving over her fingertips. It felt just as she remembered, thick and silky, yet coarser than her own, and she couldn't resist running her hand through it.

As lightly as a butterfly wing, he touched his lips to hers again. Dream or reality? His breath mingled with hers, warm and sweet from the soda he'd drunk at the resort bar. The taste of him worked on her senses like heady wine. She parted her lips, breathlessly expectant, but he still didn't deepen the kiss. His mouth grazed hers, the contact whisper soft. Moist, silken heat. Her lashes swept low over her eyes. Her blood began to slog in her veins, as thick as honey. Her lungs grabbed frantically for oxygen.

"Hank?"

He angled his head and tormented her lower lip with light nibbles of his teeth. "What?" he whispered.

Carly had no idea what she needed, only that he made her want. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders. Warm, slick skin. Thick, vibrant pads of muscle over bone. The leashed power she felt beneath her fingers made her heart trip and then stutter to regain its rhythm.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured. "So damned beautiful. I've never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you."

As though he meant to memorize every line of her face, he slowly began tracing her features with his lips, the arch of her brows, the bridge of her nose, the curve of her cheek, the angle of her jaw. With every caress of his mouth, he made her skin feel more electrified.

Carly squeaked in alarm when he suddenly caught her in his arms and rolled onto his back, drawing her up to sit astride his hips. The position drew the hem of her gown taut across her thighs. His white teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he gave her a slow grin. He reached to toy with a curl that lay over her breast, the light graze of his knuckles making her nipple grow instantly hard and sensitive.

"I love your hair," he told her. "Your hair and those fabulous eyes were the first things I noticed about you."

"Really?"

"You're still nervous." His grin broadened. "There's no need to be. Not with me. I'll never hurt you again. You know that, don't you?"

She gulped and nodded. "Yes, I know. I, um-hmm. I'm just sort of-"

"Nervous?"

She laughed and nodded.

He stopped toying with her hair to settle his big warm hands on her bare thighs. She leaped and grabbed for his wrists.

"Easy," he said softly.

He lightly caressed her skin with the pads of his fingers. His thumbs dipped to the sensitive inner part of her thighs, circling, tantalizing. Once again her heart began to pound like a piston, each labored beat a blow against her ribs.

He nudged her nightgown higher. With a feeling akin to horror, she realized that the hem wasn't under her rump. She was sitting on him, bare butt naked, her buttocks on the denim of his jeans, the rest of her pressed against his hard belly. She wondered if he realized, then decided he probably did, which made her blush all over.

"The second thing about you that caught my eye was your legs. No contest, lady. You've got the most gorgeous legs I've ever seen."

He continued his exploration of them as he spoke, his hands lightly skimming upward to trace the flare of her hips. Carly's breath snagged in her chest. Her grip on his wrists impeded him not at all as he cupped his hands over her bare bottom.

"And you feel even better than you look," he whispered throatily. "So soft and smooth and absolutely sweet." He twisted his wrists free of her grasp to make fists on her nightgown. "I want to see all of you."

"I thought-" She swallowed to steady her voice. "I thought we'd decided we needed a lead-in."

He smiled as he pushed her nightgown higher. The cotton snagged on her tight nipples. The sensation made her gasp. He sat up suddenly, startling her half out of her wits. The friction and sudden pressure of his hard belly against the sensitive apex of her thighs sent jolts coursing through her.

"Arms up," he whispered.

In one smooth movement, he peeled the gown off over her head. As he lay back down, he tossed the garment away. His eyes glittered in the moonlight as he trailed his gaze over her. Everywhere he looked, her skin burned, an exquisite torture that made heat build low in her belly.

"You are absolutely perfect."

With the backs of his knuckles, he explored the indentation of her waist, the ladder of her ribs. When he reached her breast, he lightly stroked the plump underside with his fingertips, the caress so fleeting she craved more. He didn't leave her to think about it overlong. The next instant, he'd settled his hands on her legs again. His fingers moved in titillating circles over her inner thighs, inching ever higher until his fingertips grazed the nest of curls at their juncture.

Anchoring her with one hand on her thigh, he parted the silken folds of feminine flesh and lightly touched an excruciatingly tender place. Carly gasped and jerked at the sensation. He smiled and continued to touch her there, teasing her with light flicks of his fingertip. She'd never felt anything like it. The heat within her intensified. Ribbons of electrical sensation curled through her belly.

When he suddenly stopped, her body had arched like a bow. He sat up and touched the tip of his tongue to each of her nipples. Then he caught her around the waist and rolled with her again, this time coming out on top, his torso forming a shadowy canopy of rippling strength over her. Dipping his head, be kissed her, deeply, thoroughly, tasting the tender inside of her lower lip, tracing the shape of her teeth, then pressing the tip of his tongue to hers in a teasing rhythm of advance and retreat.

Carly made fists in his hair, lost to the sensations and to him. Hank. This was how she'd felt the first time he kissed her-totally focused, wanting to melt into him. The mere brush of his hand over her skin sent lightning bolts shooting through her, and the heat within her became searing tendrils of fire.

"Hank," she whispered feverishly. "Oh, yes."

He grasped her wrists and drew her arms above her head. Then he moved back to look down at her, his eyes burning a trail from her face to her breasts.

"We're not going to rush this," he said in a raspy voice. "Not this time."

He pressed his hot mouth to the sensitive place just below her ear, then he drove her nearly crazy, nibbling his way down the column of her throat. Her collar-bone received his attention next. He trailed his tongue from her shoulder to the V, where he settled in with warm draws of his mouth over the pulse point, as if he wanted to drink in the very essence of her.

Carly's spine arched when his hot mouth closed over her nipple. He pulled sharply on it, then gently grazed the throbbing tip with his teeth. She sobbed. He intertwined his large fingers with hers, keeping her arms above her head, while he teased and suckled her. When she tried to twist her hands free, wanting to touch him, he held them fast and continued the exquisite assault on her tender flesh until she quivered like a plucked bowstring.

Dimly she was aware that he shifted to one side of her and finally released her hands. She immediately made fists in his hair, holding on for dear life as he continued to kiss her breasts. He ran his work-roughened palm over her belly, kneading gently, his fingertips finding every sensitive nerve ending with unerring accuracy. Then he curled his fingers over the throbbing place between her legs. She jerked and cried out when he found the sensitive flesh that he sought.

He dipped for the warm, slick wetness at her opening and then laid claim to that throbbing flange of flesh again with the flat of his fingers, rubbing in a slow, circular motion that brought her hips up from the mattress. "There's my girl. Give it to me, sweetheart."

Carly could have withheld nothing from him. She arched against his hand. He pressed harder and quickened the strokes. Need consumed her. She felt as if she were poised precariously at the edge of a precipice. She tried to pull back, frightened by the sensations that burned out of control inside of her.

"Let it come, sweetheart. It's okay, I swear. Just let it happen."

She sobbed, arching higher. And then it felt as if a starburst went off inside of her- shards of sensation ricocheting out from the place he stroked. Her muscles quivered and then jerked with every pass of his fingers. She was vulnerable to him in a way she'd never allowed herself to be with anyone, completely and totally helpless, her body manipulated by each electrical pass of his hand.

Her skin damp with sweat, she collapsed in a puddle of sated flesh beside him. She was grabbing for breath as if she'd just run a dash. She pressed a hand over her heart, scarcely able to believe it hadn't pounded from her chest.

Hank kissed her eyes closed, whispering nonsensically to her, the meaning of his words evading her. Slowly, reality moved in around her. The moon-touched darkness. The dark outline of the man who lay, still half-clothed, beside her. He soothed her with soft brushes of his hand over her moist skin.

When her breathing slowed, he claimed her mouth in another deep kiss that set her head to spinning again. Then he moved down to her breasts, rekindling the fire that he'd just extinguished.

Dimly, she was aware of his lips on her belly. Then, with a shock, she felt his warm, wet mouth close over the tuft of flesh he'd so expertly teased with his fingers. Appalled, she bucked and tried to push him away, but he was a solid wall of strong, determined male. He drew on her there and lightly flicked her with the tip of his tongue until she forgot why she'd been so bent on making him stop.

Soon she was quivering, her breath coming in shallow bursts, her body once again helplessly responding to every teasing pass. When he'd brought her to the edge again, he gentled the strokes, soothing her throbbing flesh until she quieted. Then he took her to the edge again.

When he finally allowed her to climax, he rode her out, rubbing her lightly throughout the first wave, then teasing her to arousal again before the orgasm completely expended itself. She peaked again-and then again.

Carly was spent when he finally rose over her. She didn't think she could move if he stuck her with a pin.

She realized that he'd shed his jeans. She blinked and tried to focus. He was a glorious blur of moon-kissed bronze, his shoulders and arms bunching with strength. She felt his shaft, hard yet silken, nudge at her opening, and she tensed, expecting to feel pain again.