“Boone hadn’t tossed and turned so much as lain, staring up at the ceiling. He’d watched the moonlight fade into that final deep darkness before dawn. Now, with the sun streaming in bright ribbons over the bed, he was facedown, spread out and fast asleep. In the dream floating through his brain, he scooped Ana into his arms and carried her up a long curved staircase of white marble. At the top, suspended above puffy cotton clouds, was an enormous bed pooled in waterfalls of white satin. Hundreds... of long, slender candles burned in a drifting light. He could smell them—the soft tang of vanilla, the mystique of jasmine. And her—that quietly sexy scent that went everywhere with her. She smiled. Hair like sunlight. Eyes like smoke. When he laid her on the bed, they sank deep, as if into the clouds themselves. There was harpsong, romantic as tears, and a whisper that was nothing more than the clouds themselves breathing. As her arms lifted, wound around him, they were floating, like ghosts in some fantasy, bound together by needs and knowledge and the unbearable sweetness of that first long, lingering kiss.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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