Witchcraft

telling myself I had to be patient, in fact, I've been going crazy for the past six weeks convincing myself I had to give you time to learn to love me again."
    "And I've been going crazy wondering if you would ever learn to love me. Ah, Cavenaugh , we've both been fools, haven't we?"
    "No. We've just been having a little trouble communicating. It won't happen again."
    "You t hink not?"
    "Well, I suppose we're always going to have to work around the fact that you are a woman ... "And you're a man."
    "Umm. And in some ways the communication problem will always exist between us." Cavenaugh lost patience with the T-shirt and stripped it oft over her head. "But I expect that's why love got invented," he stated confidently. "To help men and woman communicate? An interesting anthropological theory, Cavenaugh ." She laughed up at him with her eyes, her body warming under his. "Do you really love me?" Her hands twined around his neck. "More than anything else on earth." He was suddenly deadly serious. "Don't ever doubt that, Kim. There will be times when I'll have my hands full with other matters and other people's problems. But there will never be a time when my heart isn't full of love for you. Do you understand?"
    "Yes, Cavenaugh . I understand. And there will be times when my haphazard mind will seem full of plots and characters but there will never be a time when I am not completely in love with you."
    "Good."
    With quick, wrenching movements he unsnapped his jeans and kicked them onto the floor. Then he turned back the quilt and tucked Kimberly underneath. She went into his arms with a new, serene confidence, her body flowing along his. "I love you, Cavenaugh ."
    "You couldn't love me any more than I love you. You've been mine since the first time I made love to you. But tonight you're finally home. You're finally in my bed, where you've belonged all along." He caressed her with wonder, his fingers seeking out the hidden places of her body until she twisted gloriously beneath his touch. When he dipped his fingers tantalizingly into the hot, damp warmth between her legs she gasped. Then, with reverent care he began to trail a line of kisses from the shadows between her breasts to the even darker shadows at the apex of her thighs. Kimberly stirred with faint, embarrassed protest but he ignored it. Gently, with undeniable insistence, he parted her legs and gave her the most intimate of kisses. Kimberly cried out softly, lifting herself against him as the excitement rippled through her. " Cavenaugh !"
    "Sweet witch." He worked his way up her body until her questing fingers found the evidence of his arousal and he groaned aloud. "Love me, Cavenaugh .
    Please love me!"
    "Always." It was a vow, and Kimberly knew in the deepest recesses of her mind that she could rely on it. Cavenaugh was that kind of man. She would be able to trust in him and in his love for the rest of her life. He brought his body into hers, possessing and possessed, and Kimberly clung to him. The witchcraft that swirled in the darkened room was a very ancient kind, and it wrapped the two lovers in the softest of spells. Kimberly and her beloved Cavenaugh gave themselves up to it with delight, united in a passionate comprehension of each other that went beyond words.
    One of today's top contemporary romance writers, Jayne Ann Krentz has an astounding 12 million copies of her books in print. Her novels regularly appear on the New York ?, Waldenbooks and B. Dalton bestseller lists. First published in 1979, Jayne quickly established herself as a prolific and innovative writer. She has delved into psychic elements, intrigue, fantasy, historicals , and even futuristic romances.
    Jayne lives in Seattle with her husband, Frank, an engineer, and her bird, Ferd , whom she modestly refers to as "a truly brilliant budgie."