Pendergast watched as Morgana flipped through the new issue of the Museum Journal. She absently sought for the glass of wine he had placed before her on the cherry wood coffee table. With one long graceful hand, he took the glass and handed it to her, their fingers touching, causing their eyes to meet and she saw he was flushed.

“How do you find the wine?” Pendergast asked, not caring but not wanting Morgana’s attention to stray.

“It is very good Aloyisius. You have the finest taste as usual,” she said smiling, playful, wondering at his seeming discomfort.

Pendergast moved closer to Morgana, and cautiously, tenderly brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. Morgana’s eyes widened but he saw the desire in their deep brown depths, causing a stirring in his loins.

“This is hard for me Morgana, as you know we have an unusual history. Suffice to say I have not been with a woman since the untimely death of my wife. None have intrigued me, until I met you. At first I was attracted to your work, your knowledge and the passion of your heart. Now, I find that my heart has found life and the cause is though you.” This revelation found him unsettled and trembling.

Morgana felt herself blushing, felt a thrill rush into her heart. “Aloyisius, I admit that I’ve had the same feelings for you.” She looked away, trying to find the words. “It’s been hard for me; for us given our history. But I find myself safe with you, and it is your attentiveness and grace that give me pleasure. You have become my protector.” Now her eyes became more inviting. “And I have become enamored.”

Pendergast gave a small sigh of relief; the words he longed to have said now in the open. His normal reserve fell away and he could not force himself to stop. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, drawing her near. He watched as her eyes closed, her mouth waiting eagerly for his own. Closing his silver eyes, he leaned forward and their lips met, soft and gentle at first, then the intensity heightened as their need became a burden set free.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Pendergast pulled back. “I’m sorry Morgana, that was inappropriate.”

Morgana smiled and took Pendergast’s hand. “I’ve been longing for this.” She gently placed his hand on her breast and let go, leaving him to stroke her hardened nipples as her hands found his hair, fine as silk. They felt the abandon of the moment, a startling wave of desire that would swallow them if it were not satisfied. He pulled her closer, and she could smell his scent, clean and fragrant, as his mouth followed down her graceful neck, her shoulders, her breasts.

Their lips met again and their tongues mingled hungrily, anxiously, and now his hands were butterflies upon her skin, making her body urgent with desire as he started to unbutton her shirt.

Without a word Pendergast stood and with great ease lifted Morgana from the couch and carried her into his bedroom, never taking his intense and serious eyes from her face. Softly laying her upon his bed, he knelt at the bedside as if to pray.

“My dear Morgana, are you sure?” His voice was unsteady, surprising her and she saw tears in his usually enigmatic eyes.

Without a word she bid him rise and guided him atop her willing body. Their clothes piled onto the floor without hesitation, and he looked down upon her, drinking in her slender body, her soft breasts, her lean legs. Slowly he stroked her skin and gently moving downward, she felt his tongue, flickering, probing. Morgana gasped, arching her back to meet him, feeling at one with this mysterious man. She lifted his face from her body to greedily experience the hardness of his chest, covered with fine blond hair, his abdomen, and then lower. His gasp made her bold and she gently guided him inside her willing body.

The rhythm of their lovemaking was as natural as if they were bound to each other, their bodies made for this moment. They moved more urgently now, and she moaned finding the peak of her desire. Pendergast continued, his eyes never leaving hers, until he shuddered and was still. They lay together and time was forgotten, all things bound in their union.

“Morgana,” he started as he cradled her close. “I believe you have found your way into my heart. I never thought I would feel this way again, acting with such abandon and feeling such passion. But you, Morgana, you are an unexpected gift. A treasure to behold.”

Morgana lay wrapped in his strong arms as he spoke, her heart beating wildly.

“Morgana, what I am so clumsily trying to say is I love you.”

At her smile, Pendergast felt he had found home.

---