Heart's Magic by Gail Dayton

can't--"
    "Shh." He rubbed his face
over her breasts, the scrape of whiskers adding to the sensations
driving her mad. "Nothing to be afraid of. It's all right. Stop
fighting it. Just let go. Let it 'appen."
    "I can't." Her body had
become an alien thing, driven by forces beyond her control.
Pleasure rippled through her, taking her over. "Harry, please. Help
me."
    "I will. I am. Swear it."
His tongue licked out to tease her nipple again, before he lifted
his head and pressed his cheek tight to hers, his lips brushing her
ear. "Just let go. I'll catch you. I'll always be 'ere to catch
you."
    He tightened his arm behind
her back, crushing her naked breasts to his broad, fully-clothed
chest. The stern texture of his worsted wool coat, the satiny
brocade of his waistcoat, the smooth linen of his shirt, felt
outrageously erotic against her skin. The strength of his hold
assured her that he would indeed catch her.
    "Let go, Elinor, love," he
murmured in his lovely, rough-edged voice. "Come for me,
sweetheart."
    Maybe it was the
endearment. Or the feel of his clothing on her bare breasts. Maybe
it was his strong arm around her or his clever fingers, never
ceasing with their circling and stroking and teasing. More likely,
it was everything at once, but whatever it was Elinor found herself
pushed up some impossibly high pinnacle of physical delight, where
she paused for an endless instant before the pleasure burst over
her and she fell. Her body throbbed and shook, consumed by
pleasure, her voice stolen away save for a single, gasped "Harry!"
She fell and fell and fell. And Harry caught her in his
kiss.
    When she came to herself
again, Harry had both his arms wrapped around her, one over her
bared back, the other round her hips, holding her tight and safe.
He murmured nonsense in her ear, about how brave she was and how
beautiful, about how she shook so sweetly, and how he'd known she
would be all fire and passion.
    Shame flooded her. All her
noble intentions, all her high-minded rationality had been routed
by mindless animal desires. She was no better than--
    "Don't," Harry said,
holding her tighter. "Whatever you're thinkin', stop
it."
    "How do you know I'm
thinking anything at all?" She pushed away from him and he let her
sit up, but refused to let her move out of his lap. "Obviously, I
wasn't," she muttered, yanking her chemise back up over her
breasts.
    "I know you're thinking,
'cause I know you." Harry lifted her and set her on the sofa beside
him facing away and calmly tightened her corset as if he helped
ladies dress every day of the world. "You're always thinking.
You're probably thinkin' even when you're asleep, instead o'
dreamin'. Besides, you stiffened up like a poker in my arms,
instead o' lyin' there soft and sweet like you been
doin'."
    "Harry, this was wrong. We
should never have done it." She wanted to accuse, to say
" you shouldn't
have," but he hadn't done anything alone. He never would have if
she'd actually said no. And she hadn't.
    Only when her loss of
control had frightened her did she speak at all. She would accept
her share of the blame.
    "Why?" He tugged her dress
back up over her shoulders and began buttoning it. "Didn't 'urt
nothing. Didn't even risk gettin' a babe on you."
    "It's too dangerous. The
scandal-- The risk--"
    Her dress still half
unbuttoned, Harry turned her around to face him, cupping her cheek
in his big, calloused hand. "I told you 'ow to get rid of the
scandal, but you won't 'ave none of it. Seems to me you're no
stranger to risk or scandal, given you're a lady wizard an' were
willin' to be my apprentice."
    "That's different. That was
for the magic."
    "So you're willing to risk
everything for magic--for your work, your mind--an' nothin' for
your heart. Seems to me that's a piss-poor way to live, Elinor.
Beggin' your pardon. It leaves you off balance. Standin' on your
head, instead o' strong on two feet."
    She would not stay and take
any more abuse. She was not a silly girl to be seduced by