Home At Last. Laurie Campbell

he cut the ignition, hit the kickstand and drew her into his arms.

      There was no time to think, and nothing to think about. All she knew was instinct, feeling, heat…the warmth of his embrace, of his hands caressing her face, his lips on hers—

      Oh, yes.

      Yes! J.D. felt so much hotter, so much stronger than she ever would have guessed. Their rides, no matter how tightly her arms encircled his waist, how sweetly his touch had lingered when he helped her astride the bike, hadn’t prepared her for the intensity of his body against hers, for the sheer, shivering passion of his kiss—

      But already he was pulling away from her, taking a step back, staring at her with a mixture of apology and ancient, primal possession.

      “I shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered.

      Shouldn’t have done that? “But—”

      He shook his head, looking so confused and yet so determined that she felt a tremor of fear. He couldn’t mean to back away from her now, could he?

      “You’re just so…” he faltered, still gazing at her as if he’d never seen anyone he wanted more. “You’re—ah, Kirs.” With a muffled groan, he pulled her back against him and lifted her face to his kiss.

      This one was headier, richer, more vivid than the first, and she gloried in the sheer, wild rightness of it. This was what she wanted, this was what she’d never experienced with anyone until now. Until J.D.

      This, this was real—

      Or so she’d believed at the time, Kirsten reminded herself as she turned to gaze out the airplane window at an endless bank of white.

      She knew better now.

      She’d known better for eight years, and it no longer mattered. All that mattered now was her children.

      She held that thought like a talisman for the rest of the flight and felt a vague sense of relief when they landed in Seattle. For the last hour she’d avoided any recollections of that summer with J.D. Ryder, any memories of those old, mistaken feelings…and what she could manage for an hour, she could manage for a day. Or even two.

      But please, God, don’t let it take that long.