Cynara

By: Janis Flores

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Synopsis: "I'm not your wife!" she shouted furiously. "It was all a trick. Let me go, Evan!" He didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Her nearness was intoxicating, and he couldn't stop himself. Bending his head, he kissed her. The touch of his lips was like fire. Cynara struggled against him, her hands pushing vainly against his chest. His mouth was demanding, and despite her fury, she felt herself responding. Suddenly she was caught up in a wave of desire so strong that she pressed her body into his and wound her arms around his neck. This, she thought dazedly, this was what it was like to be loved. She felt lifted, transported, breathless, and she wanted to prolong this moment forever. "Evan," she whispered, "wait . . ." But he was beyond hearing her. Caught up in his own delirium, he was conscious only of her slim white body under him . . . he was lost in her, drowning in the touch and scent of her. He had denied himself too long; all his senses screamed at him to take her, and he didn't hear her second, frightened protest. . . .