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becoming too much, she thought in gathering frustration.
    She wanted him to touch her, try to take her by storm. She would have to halt him eventually, of course, but in that moment she longed to know the range and depth of his passion and desire. The urge to find out if he really wanted her and wasn't simply playing with her was overwhelming. What was it about this man that affected her so fiercely? She couldn't remember knowing such a physical impatience in herself before in her life. Not even when she had thought herself so much in love with Alex.
    "A man who knows what he wants," Court rasped in soft agreement with her teasing assessment.
    But if he truly wanted her, why wasn't he pushing and taking and demanding with his hands and his lips? Leya wondered distractedly. There had been nothing timid about his approach earlier in the evening! But, then, there was nothing particularly timid about him now, she acknowledged uncomfortably. It was this waiting, teasing, tantalizing quality in him that was frustrating. Frustrating and intriguing, she realized vaguely, her fingers sliding to the muscles of his shoulders and beginning a gentle, kneading massage.
    Frustrating, intriguing, and . . . Suddenly, Leya smiled inwardly. And safe. That was the missing explanation. For all his dangerous words, he was letting her know with his body that she was safe with him. Or at least as safe as she wanted to be.
    With a sigh of satisfaction at having solved the puzzle, Leya relaxed against Court's chest, deepening her own kisses as she framed his rugged face between her palms.

    Her self-confidence flowed serenely through her blood even as she deliberately assumed the aggressive role. The excitement was like a fire in the pit of her stomach as she kissed Court full on the mouth, probing into his warmth with the tip of her tongue. She wanted his response, needed it...
    She felt his almost stoic resistance to the torment of her tongue and sought to overcome it. Her body twisted against; him, and her nails gently raked the side of his tanned cheek. She imagined herself in roles she'd never played: a femme fatale, a seductress, a siren.
    The urgency in her grew, unchained now by any nagging, feminine fears. She was safe with this man. She could manage him. He was willing to let her set the pace . . .
    "Give a woman a little taste of power ..." Court groaned hoarsely under her soft assault, and Leya felt the reckless laughter bubble up inside herself.
    "I didn't notice you giving it to me," she husked. "I thought I was taking it!" She left off the intimate duel she had initiated with his tongue and went in search of new territory to conquer. She found it in the vulnerable tip of his ear lobe. Delicately, she closed her teeth on it and was rewarded by the shudder she felt in his hard, massive frame.
    "Ummm," he growled softly, his hands moving on her back as he tightened his hold slightly. "For someone who's been busy refusing my invitations to bed, you're certainly turning into a little temptress all of a sudden!"
    "That's because I've finally figured you out," Leya whispered exultantly, her breath coming quickly between her parted lips as she ran her hands over the front of his shirt and played with a button or two.
    "And what's the big secret?" he challenged, eyes gleaming in the darkness.
    "You're not nearly so wicked as you'd have me believe," she informed him, leaning her head back and
    smiling at him with lazy invitation. "You said it, yourself. You're wearing the clothes of a gentleman tonight, and deep down you're going to behave like one."
    "Ah," Court exclaimed as if seeing the light. "You're feeling quite safe with me now, is that it? None of the fears you almost admitted to earlier?"
    "None."
    "Not even a little nagging fear that you might just possibly be off in your judgment of me?" he persisted easily.
    "Nope." Leya laughed very softly, her eyes glowing.
    "Who am I to argue with a woman's reasoning and logic?" he murmured,