"You look terrific." Dallas walked toward her, his gaze running over the short, slim skirt of the sundress, down the length of her legs, then back to her bare shoulders. "Good enough to eat."

She flushed as he bent his head and very thoroughly kissed her.

"Now it's my turn," he said. "I'll be out in a minute." He paused at the door to the bedroom. "The food should be up any time. Feel free to nibble until I get back."

But he showered even faster than she had and reappeared in a pair of black slacks and a crisp white shirt. She had never seen him in anything other than western clothes and the change was startling. He looked as if he had stepped straight off a page in GQ a difference that made him seem strangely remote.

Her nerves inched up. By the time dinner arrived, she had downed another glass of champagne, which didn't seem to help. The waiter rolled a white-draped table into the room, and the smell of broiled meat hit her. Mixed with the champagne and her unsteady nerves, her stomach rolled. She was afraid she wouldn't be able to eat a single bite of the meal.

Dallas signed the check, waited till the man was gone, then walked over to where she stood behind one of the chairs.

He was studying her face and frowning. He reached down and caught her hand, laced his fingers with hers.

"You're skin's like ice and your face is pale. Tell me what's wrong."

She tried to smile. "Nothing's wrong. I told you I'm fine."

"That's what you said. Now tell me the truth."

She glanced away, tried to collect herself. A heavy weight seemed to settle on her chest. "I'm sorry." She shook her head. "It's just...I'm just not good at this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing is that? Eating supper in a man's hotel room?"

"Having sex. Making love. I've always been a complete and utter failure. My last relationship, brief as it was, was a total disaster. Tyler said...well, he said I was a terrible lover. There's even a chance...Actually, Tyler thought I might be frigid and I think...I'm afraid he might be right."

Her hand was trembling. Dallas pressed their linked fingers against his mouth, then led her over to the sofa. He urged her down on the cushion and sat down beside her, his trouser leg brushing against her calf.

"All right, you're nervous. I can understand that. But being frigid-that's something else altogether. Are you telling me you've never had an orgasm?"

She could feel the heat creeping into her face. Once, in an intimate moment, her sister Charity had confided that she had multiple orgasms with her husband, Call. Patience had been wildly envious, but she had kept her silence. Sitting here now, she didn't want to tell Dallas the awful things Tyler had said. She didn't want to mention her past disastrous relationships. She had been so hoping that tonight things would be different.

Maybe they could be...if she somehow found the courage.

Taking a deep breath, she fixed her gaze on the table in front of the sofa and plunged in. Patience told him about the first time she had made love and about the psych student in college and how she hadn't really liked sex from the start.

And then there was Tyler. She admitted that at first she had been attracted to him. She liked his blond good looks and the fun places he took her. But making love had been a disaster and after that things had gone straight downhill. She just couldn't seem to enjoy sex the way her sisters did.

"You've been with so many women." Patience blinked against the unexpected sting of tears. "I can't stand to think of being a disappointment to you."

The strong hand holding hers tightened ever so slightly. Something shifted in Dallas's features, turning them dark and fierce. Suddenly he looked like the cowboy who had rescued her that night from Wes McCauley.

"I'd like to take a swing at that guy Tyler Stanfield-and any other man who's made you feel the way you do. Like you said, I do know something about women and about making love. And as for being frigid...You probably won't believe it, but there's a question as to whether or not there even is such a thing."

Patience just looked at him.

"We're going to take things nice and slow tonight, okay? There's no rush, no reason to hurry. I know what I'm doing, Patience, but I need you to trust me. Do you think you can do that?"

She bit her lip, then nodded.

"Then everything's going to turn out fine. And even if you don't reach a climax, I'm not going to be disappointed. I'm going to love just being inside you."

To punctuate his words, he bent his head and gently brushed his mouth over hers. "That sound okay to you?"

She felt the pull of a smile and a small stirring of excitement. "That sounds perfect."

He kissed her again, very slowly, just the slightest melding of lips. Then he captured her face between his palms and deepened the pressure, kissing her first one way and then the other, nibbling the corners of her mouth, sliding his tongue inside.

The stiffness melted from her body. She could feel herself beginning to relax. She might not trust Dallas Kingman with her heart, but she trusted him completely with her body, and she gave herself up to him in a way she never had with a man before.

Dallas must have sensed the change. He shifted on the sofa and kissed the side of her neck, lazily ran his hands up and down her back. "I think supper can wait, don't you?"

Before she could answer, he started kissing her again, and every place his mouth touched seemed to burn. Slowly the pressure began to build, a hot ache that tugged low in her belly and sent gooseflesh over her skin. Dallas kissed her and kissed her until she was squirming on the sofa, wanting him to touch her, wanting him to peel away her clothes and his own.

A faint moan escaped as he lowered one of the straps on the sundress, baring her breast, then bent his dark head and took her nipple between his teeth. He nipped and tasted, pressed soft kisses over her skin, drew the fullness into his mouth. Heat tugged low in her belly, floated out through her limbs. When he lowered the second strap and curled his tongue around her nipple, Patience's head fell back and she moaned.

Oh, dear God! She didn't feel frigid. In fact, her body seemed to burn.

"Lovely," Dallas said, easing away a little to look at her. "I knew you would be." He lowered his head and sucked on her nipple and unconsciously her body arched up to give him more.

"Dallas..." His name whispered out with an urgency she had never felt and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

"Easy, darlin'. Like I said, we've got all night."

But she didn't want to wait all night. She didn't want this feeling to end and she was afraid that it would. "Can't we just-"

"Not yet. Not until you're ready."

"But-"

He silenced her with a kiss that tasted of champagne and the raw masculinity that was Dallas. God, she was more than ready by the time she felt his arm beneath her knees, lifting her against his chest. He carried her into the bedroom and set her on her feet beside the bed. She heard the buzz of her zipper, felt the apricot fabric sliding down over her hips into a soft heap at her feet.

She had dressed for seduction: no bra, only a tiny white satin thong bikini that revealed more than it covered.

Dallas's hot gaze ran over her and she heard his harsh in-take of breath. "So damned beautiful." Reaching up, he pulled out the comb holding up her hair, letting it tumble down around her shoulders, then gently ran his fingers through it.

Her heart was thundering, her hands shaking. Dallas returned his attention to her breasts, laving her nipples, making them ache and distend.

"You promised to trust me," he said, his mouth moving over her skin, trailing moist kisses along her rib cage, down toward her navel. "Remember?"

"I...remember." She wasn't likely to forget. Already she was more aroused than she had been in her entire twenty-seven years.

He knelt in front of her, slid his tongue around the hollow of her navel. She was embarrassingly hot and wet. The last thing she expected was the feel of his mouth against her sex.

His hands moved over her hips and he cupped her bottom, holding her immobile where she stood. Patience gasped at the feel of his tongue sliding gently inside her. Her heart raced and her knees shook. The promise she had made was all that kept her from pushing him away. She stood there trembling while he laved and tasted, closed her eyes against the delicious sensations, laced her fingers in his silky dark hair.

The unexpected climax hit her so hard her legs nearly buckled beneath her. She tried to push him away, but Dallas held her steady and continued his assault. Waves of heat washed over her, little pinpricks of light burst behind her eyes. The sensations seemed to go on forever. She didn't notice when he picked her up and settled her in the middle of the big king-size bed.

Every muscle in her body completely limp, she looked up to see Dallas stripping off the last of his clothes. Naked, he climbed up on the bed to join her, a tender, oddly possessive smile on his face.

"Trust me," he said, reminding her again of her promise. She noticed the empty foil wrapper on the nightstand, one of a sizeable stack. She jerked her eyes away, back to his beautiful body, vee-shaped and athletic, lean yet ridged with muscle. His shoulders were wide and hard, his biceps well defined, his forearms veined and corded.

Dallas came up over her, leaned down and kissed her, and a fresh wave of desire washed through her. She could feel his erection, big and incredibly hard, pressing against her thigh. Still, he didn't move to take her, just kept kissing her mouth, her breasts, his hands moving over her tingling skin. He slipped his fingers between her legs and began to stroke her. The sensations she had felt before rose up with even more force and she shifted restlessly beneath him on the bed.

"Dallas, please...I need..."

"Easy, darlin'. I'll give you what you need."

But the heat was building, becoming nearly unbearable. Her breasts felt sensitive where they brushed against his chest and a hot ache throbbed between her legs. In the moonlight streaming in through the window, Dallas's eyes looked incredibly blue and intense.

His lips claimed hers, more urgently now, more demanding, his tongue sliding in, stroking the inside of her mouth. She kissed him back and the kiss grew even hotter. Dallas parted her legs with his knee and she felt the heavy weight of his sex as he eased himself inside. He took her slowly, carefully, filling her completely.

"God, I want you so much." Still, he held himself back, bracing himself on his elbows, giving her time to adjust to the heavy length inside her, kissing her again and again. Then he started to move.

Heat rolled through her. Desire spiraled up, thick and delicious. A moan built in the back of her throat, seeped from between her lips. Nothing had ever felt so good, so perfectly right as making love with him. Her body was burning, flaming out of control.

In a far corner of her mind, the thought occurred, there is nothing the least bit wrong with me. I've just been making love with the wrong men.

The rhythm increased, his strokes deeper and harder. She wrapped her legs around his, matching his rhythm, and he groaned. He was losing control, she realized, and some deep, feminine part of her reveled in her power. She met each of his thrusts, arched up for more, and started coming again.

She couldn't believe it. It was so easy, so natural. So good. She felt as if she were flying, spinning into a world she had never known before. Dallas drove into her a few more times, then his muscles went rigid and he followed her to release.

Their heartbeats melded. Very slowly, they began to spiral down, Dallas's skin slick with perspiration, matching the dampness of her own. His weight shifted off her as he settled himself on the bed, then pulled her into his arms.

Neither of them spoke. She could feel his pulse begin to slow, feel the tension in his muscles seep away. She didn't want to move, just wanted to stay where she was forever. She turned to look at him, saw the hint of a smile on his lips.

"I guess we don't have to worry about you being frigid."

Her soft laughter drifted across the room. "I guess we don't. Thank you, Dallas."

"My pleasure."

She laughed at the pun. "I ruined our supper."

"Are you kidding? I'd rather eat-"

She clamped a hand over his lips. "Don't you dare-"

He grinned. "I'd rather eat late anyway."

Both of them laughed.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

Dallas turned his head and nipped the side of her neck. "You wouldn't believe how hungry. Just not for food." He came up over her, captured her mouth again, and she felt his arousal, as big and hard as it had been before.

He slid inside her but he didn't rush, and she thought that this was the perfect way to make love. Perhaps that was really the difference.

Love.

It was a terrifying thought.

CHAPTER 12.

They ate at two in the morning. Cold filet mignon wasn't bad, Dallas thought, slicing off a chunk and popping it into his mouth with his fingers. And the shrimp salad was hardly wilted at all.

Dressed in the fluffy white terry cloth robes they found hanging in the bathroom, they sat at the table in the living room, picking through the food, trying to salvage what they could of their ruined meal.

Not that he was complaining. He glanced at the woman sitting across from him. In the light of the candle in the center of the table, she looked radiant and utterly luscious. Her skin glowed and her cheeks bloomed a soft shade of rose. Her lips were slightly kiss-swollen, her long, golden hair rumpled and sexy.

His groin tightened. He could hardly believe it. They had made love three times already and he wanted her again.

He smiled as he watched her eating, plucking the shrimp out of the wilted lettuce and plopping them into her mouth.

"I can see you aren't the least bit hungry," he teased, since it was obvious she was even hungrier than he was.

Patience stopped eating long enough to look up at him. "I'm ravenous." She grinned. "Somehow I worked up an appetite."

He smiled. "Yeah...somehow."

A hint of color washed into her cheeks. He found it completely charming. Once they were finished, he would take her back to bed. He should probably let her sleep. For himself, he would give up sleep for the chance to be inside her.

In a way it was scary. It had been years since he'd been so hungry for a woman. Maybe never.

Still, this was new to them both and they had waited for weeks. By the time they left Houston, hopefully the newness would have worn off. He didn't want to think about what would happen when they got back. Having a serious relationship was out of the question and both of them knew it.

Whatever they decided, he wasn't going to let it ruin the time they had together.

Dallas took a last bite of steak. Over Patience's shoulder, he could see the rumpled bed, and heat pooled in his groin. Every time she slid the fork into her mouth, his erection throbbed.

"I'm finally getting full," Patience said.

"I'm still hungry."

Her head came up. "Then why did you stop eating?"

Dallas grinned. "It's time for dessert." Shoving back his chair, he stood up and walked around to where she sat.

Patience stood up and turned into his arms. "I can handle it if you can, cowboy."

There was no mistaking the desire in her eyes. That fool Tyler Stanfield had convinced her she was frigid. Dallas chuckled to himself as he scooped her into his arms.

"You still haven't told me about your dad." Patience sat beside Dallas in the same black stretch limo that had picked them up at the airport, heading for Avery Kingman's sixtieth birthday party. "What does he do for a living?"