Face the Fire by Nora Roberts

taking what he wanted, not for letting it go.
    The unique flavor of her seared through him, sizzling the nerves, smoking the senses. His arms tightened so that her long, lean body was molded to his, and against his heart her heart kicked and galloped until the paces matched. Exactly.
    The scent of her, darker than he remembered and somehow forbidding, slithered into him, twining through his system until it was tied in knots. The memories of the girl, the reality of the woman—both blurred together and became one. Became Mia.
    He said her name once, his lips moving against hers, then she broke free.
    Her breathing was as uneven as his. And her eyes were huge, dark, unreadable. He waited to be cursed, and counted it worth the price of that one taste of heaven.
    But she moved to him in one quick stride. Locking her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his, she took from him as he had taken from her.
    Her mouth was a fever, and the ache of it throbbed through her. He was the only man who’d ever brought her pain, and the only man who’d ever brought her truepleasure. Both edges of that keen sword stabbed, and still she took.
    She had pushed him, plucked at the ragged threads of his temper with one underlying purpose. This. Just this. Whatever the risks, whatever the price, she’d had to know .
    She remembered the taste of him, the texture, the way it felt when his hands slid up from her waist to fist in her hair. She relived all of that now, and experienced the new.
    He nipped her bottom lip, just one quick bite before his tongue slicked over the same spot to soothe and to entice. She changed the angle of the kiss, daring him to follow, to circle the slippery rim of that well of need.
    Someone trembled. She wasn’t sure who, but it was enough to remind her that a misstep could lead to a tumble. And the fall was long.
    She drew back, then away, as the reverberations of that mating of mouths tossed her emotions.
    So she knew. He was still the only one who could meet and match her passions.
    His voice was hoarse, and far from steady when he spoke. “That proves something.”
    It helped, somehow, knowing he was as undone as she. “Proves what, Sam? That we still have heat between us?” She waved her hand, and a duet of clear blue flames danced on her palm. “Fire is easily lit.” She curled her fingers, opened them again, and her palm was empty. “Easily extinguished.”
    “Not so easily.” He took her hand, felt the pump of energy. And knew she felt it, too. “Not so easily, Mia.”
    “Wanting you with my body means so very little.” She drew her hand from his, looked toward the cave. “It makes me sad to be here, to remember how much more we both expected of each other, and ourselves, once.”
    “Don’t you believe in fresh starts?” He reached out totouch her hair. “We’ve both changed. Why not take the time to get to know each other again?”
    “You just want to get me into bed.”
    “Oh, yeah. That goes without saying.”
    She laughed, surprising them both. “More honesty. Soon I’ll be speechless.”
    “I’d seduce you eventually, but—”
    “Seduction’s overrated,” she interrupted. “I’m not a jittery virgin. If I decide to sleep with you, then I’ll sleep with you.”
    He blew out a breath. “Well, then. It so happens I have an entire hotel at my disposal.”
    “ ‘If’ is the key word,” she said mildly. “On the occasion ‘if’ becomes ‘when,’ I’ll let you know.”
    “I’ll stay available.” To give himself a moment to steady, he bent down to pick up his sunglasses. “But what I was going to say, was that while I’d seduce you eventually, I’ll settle for a friendly dinner.”
    “I’m not interested in dating you.” She turned to walk back up the bluff, to the road, and he fell into step beside her.
    “A civilized meal, intelligent conversation, that chance to see who we are. If you don’t like calling it a date, we can call it a meeting of two of the