Heart on Hold - ISBN# 1-4199-0777-8 

An Excerpt:

He set his glass down; he took hers and set it down. He led her to the balcony where he held her close as they watched tiny lights move across the unseen lakeshore.

"This has been a wonderful day," she said, looking up at him. "I'm grateful to have shared it with you."

"A wonderful two days," he corrected, touching her cool brow with warm lips, breathing in her scent and the air rising off the lake with its essence of green life so different from salt and sea. For a moment they watched as tiny waves danced and skittered across the face of the reflected moon and evaporated back into the air. Their ears caught the soft chittering of night birds on a rising breeze, and the low roar of a motorbike on the floating bridge.

Then it happened, the lake, the moon, the moving lights on the unseen shore held no more interest for them, their world contracting until only they stood at its center. Nothing had been said for many minutes, but they had turned to each other, his hands cradling her neck, her hands on his broad chest. He had wanted this, waited for it to happen, hoping the moment would present itself.

He heard her breath quicken, felt her heart pound against her ribs. Very slowly, savoring this moment, he bent his head to her lips, touching them so very gently thqt she could not have felt them. But, oh, she did. He knew the signs, the slight tremor, the long intake of a breath and even longer release.

She felt that touch like a shockwave, an electric something that rushed downwards, swift as a volley of arrows. Sharp, exquisite delight; she could not tell them apart. Her knees weakened while her body, all on its own drew close to him; and at that instant he took her completely to himself, wrapping his arms around her.

She closed her eyes and felt herself...absorbed.

It was his strength, his power, his heat. He combed his hands through the thick curls of her hair and caressed the graceful curve of neck and shoulders. His hands could not be satisfied. They wanted to learn the feel of her arms, the curve of her back. And she wanted him to know. Caress upon caress, he explored her until he found the edge of her cardigan which he lifted and peeled back, exposing her hot skin to the cool, moist air. She trembled as he slowly, exquisitely, tortously slid his fingers along her spine, fingers with a life of their own...Losh! She craved more of his explorations.

She was not a wearer of bras. Never had been. And the strong, hard hands paused, hesitated when they found nothing impeding them, and continued the exploration, teasing the skin of her ribs, her belly and her breasts. He teased the taut puckered nipples until she could no longer stand it, gasping and pressing herself into him to escape his torment. But he insisted and pushed her away to do it again, and again, playing her nerves like the devil he was.

This was good; and her desire as well as his, grew with every stroke of his hands. As he slid them down her spine to her slender waist, the edge of his palms encountered the beltline of her jeans. He paused. The barrier was not insurmountable, for it was only a few snaps; but it was a barrier that he would not pass beyond. He hesitated and looked to her, his question as loud as if he had shouted it across the lake.

She knew she would not tolerate another moment on the balcony, fully clothed, in full view of the world, and not go beyond. She argued with herself that she must overcome her fears, the inhibitions of her strict up-bringing, her experience with an armadillo Texan named Cal...and that other thing, the part her monster named Caution guarded like a gorgon. She wavered, debated, equivocated and wanted to retreat. Could she do it? Would he think her his? Would he understand her explanations when she told him...

She almost groaned in frustration: Lord help her find the backbone to just say it...to give him that single, affirming word.

"What is it?" he asked, feeling her resistance. His lips were soft, sensitive and nuzzling her, ready to take her - as soon as she gave the word.

"I'm a coward,Ian," she whispered.

"I doubt that," he replied, plotting his exploration of her mouth.

A tremor shook her from a deep place, secret from even her."I want to say yes."

"Then say the words, 'Seduce me Ian.' I'll be very gentle."

She sighed. "Ah, so you would be, for you're the devil and as every good Christian loves his devils...Och, Ian, I don't know..." He heard her desperate plea, and smothered her words with his mouth, plunged his tongue between her lips, tasting her, tempting her. She tasted of wine and sweetness - addictive. He could not get enough, and so swept her up in his arms and turned to the door.

The telephone rang.

She moaned.

He cursed.

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