Surprise nipped. This new man seemed so much larger than the young lover from her memories. But in her arms, he was her Danny. She took comfort in that as she leaned in to take his mouth.
And then he wasn't her Danny at all.
A hungry growl of possession rumbled low in his throat. His mouth took hers right back in the kiss of a man. Not a hungry youth who, yes, had style and exuberance. But a man of intensity, strength.
Experience.
All man. And he made her feel all woman. A sensation she hadn't experienced in so long she'd forgotten the heady rush of being wanted. Desired. Even while sex with Kent had been physically satisfying at the beginning, all too soon any mating had become just that. Mating. She'd been nothing more than a vessel to bear his child, and somewhere along the way had lost the wonder of being a woman.
Danny reminded, reassured her with the bold possession of his mouth, tongue, hands traveling down her back to urge her closer to the undeniable proof that he desired her. A precious gift she hadn't realized she needed, and now she couldn't face losing it.
Losing him?
She shunted that thought away, too much, too dangerous, and focused on his kiss, the warm play of muscles under her hands. The roar in her ears swelled like ocean echoes in a conch shell. Somehow she knew that in years to come she would listen to a shell whisper reminders of passion.
Mary Elise hooked her leg around Daniel's bare calf and gloried in the gentle rasp of his bristly hairs and sand against her sensitive skin. Reveled in the masculine growl the rub of her heel elicited low in his throat.
Drinking in the taste of him tinged with beer and memories, Mary Elise clung to his broad shoulders and the moment. A moment so much hotter than her memories, and her memories of wrapping herself around Daniel Baker had been mighty damned hot. Keeping her awake and hungry and longing on more than one night.
And now after just one kiss from the adult Daniel, she feared she might never sleep again.
Daniel gathered a fistful of Mary Elise's hair, anchoring her sweet mouth to his, and wondered how he was going to sleep through another night on that damned sofa. Then thought about how much he didn't want to sleep tonight, wanted to spend the night peeling those silk shorts down Mary Elise's long legs.
What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't freaking control his shaking hands or the consuming drive to possess this woman. Now. Here. Who needed a wide inviting stretch of bed where a couple of nosy kids might spring in on them anyway?Kids.
The boys. Responsibilities and life and a woman with problems she wasn't sharing and plenty of his own she didn't need to shoulder.
He tore his mouth from hers, a tougher proposition than slipping past enemy radar in a combat zone. Her foot glided down his leg back into the water, moonlight sparking fiery glints in her hair. His forehead fell to rest on hers and he inhaled the scent of her honeysuckle shampoo. Of her.
His arms draped over her shoulders, their h*ps still grazing a tantalizing dance against each other as his libido defied his reason. "Good God, Mary Elise. What was that about?"
"You didn't want to kiss me?"
Oh, he wanted to and a lot more, but that didn't make it any wiser. Not that he could lie to her. This was his doing as much as hers.
He pressed her fingers to his neck where his pulse double-timed. "What do you think?">Way to go, bud.
He forged ahead. "You're probably right. My relationship history hasn't been any better than my father's."
"At least you were smart enough not to marry your mistakes."
He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. "You can shut that talk down right now. We may have made mistakes, you and I, but knowing you was the best damned thing that ever happened to me."
A tender smile crept over her face. "You are so sweet, Danny."
"Sweet?" Crap. She obviously had him mixed up with someone else.
Her hand eased away as she trailed ahead. "But I wasn't talking about us. I meant my marrying Kent."
Her words carried so quietly on the night air, he let them kick around in his head for a few seconds to make sure he'd heard her right.
"So Kent McRae was a mistake?" He couldn't stop the question. He was human after all.
"Obviously, or I wouldn't have divorced him." She pulled ahead with long-legged strides that drew his eyes and his libido.
And then her words soaked into his brain. He stopped. You left him." A fact that meant a lot more to him than it should. "I never knew for sure."
She continued ahead for five tide-swishing steps. He stood unmoving, seaweed twining around his ankles as tenaciously as thoughts of this woman. Thoughts and curiosity about the man she'd chosen to marry without the coercion of a shotgun wedding.