But this was a celebration, a victory over an illness that had seemed poised to win, and he was determined to enjoy every moment of it. His hand drifted to Harriet’s cheek and he stroked it softly, caressing her gently. She sighed, parting her lips so he could slip his tongue through and taste the warm recesses of her mouth. Heat surged through his body at her ardent response. “It feels good to cheat death, does it not?” he asked, nuzzling the soft skin below her ear. “Wonderful,” she sighed. She made a sound in the back of her throat, a sensual purr of excitement. “Nearly as wonderful as this.” She lifted her face and pressed her lips against his in a gesture of trusting welcome. Nathaniel immersed himself completely in the sensations her kisses created, nibbling at her bottom lip, stroking her tongue, molding his body into her softness. Driven by mutual need, it took little coaxing for her lips to cling to his, briefly part, then join again. Nathaniel felt Harriet’s yearning rise to meet his own and it filled him with such an expanded sense of rightness.
