Involuntarily, Catherine tightened her arms around Vincentīs shoulders. She turned her head slightly, hoping to get a look at his relaxed features, but all she could see was the crown of his head as he rested against her, breathing calmly. Long tresses of his hair spilled out across her own body, and she would have loved to bury her face in it, but she couldnīt move beneath the pressure of his body. He was heavy, and she shifted her arm and shoulder to better accommodate to his weight. He stirred and nuzzled deeper between her breasts, and an involuntary sigh escaped him as he clasped her waist with one big, strong hand. Catherine knew that he was asleep, and it filled her with joy and satisfaction that he would cling to her like that. His trust moved her deeply, and she wept silently for the lonely boy he had been and for the mother he had never had. Careful not to wake him, she ran her fingers through his bangs, resting her hand on top of his head, and wishing she could hold him even tighter to her. She could barely contain the tenderness she felt for him and strained to lift her head and kiss his hair which was all she could reach. His fingers flexed as he gripped her waist even tighter, and she winced reflexively as his long nails dug through the fabric of her blouse.

He jerked awake, instantly alert as he stared down at her with wide and wary eyes. Silently chastising herself for her mindless reaction, Catherine reached up to stroke his face soothingly.

"Itīs all right," she whispered. "Everythingīs all right."

Slowly he sat up and brought his hands before his face to study them in confusion. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"No," she replied truthfully. His nails hadnīt even stung her. She had reacted to the feel of them, just as she would to someone tickling her.

"I felt...you flinch," he said haltingly.

She cast him a broad smile. "You tickled me," she replied, delighted when a furtive smile spread across his features.

"I didnīt mean to fall asleep," he murmured.

She knelt up to frame his face with her hands. "I loved holding you like that," she said, "and the fact that you relaxed enough to fall asleep in my arms honors me."

He shook his head, hiding behind the curtain of his hair as he reached for her hand and pulled it to his mouth. It was such a small kiss, his lips barely touching her skin, yet it inflamed her instantly and completely. Without releasing her hand, Vincent pulled back a little and looked at her thoughtfully. His expression was so serious that Catherine experienced an involuntary twinge of guilt for bombarding him with the intensity of her feelings. But he was so hard to resist. She ran her eyes over him as he knelt before her on the bed, his hair sleep-tousled and his eyelids heavy with drowsiness. She concentrated on the throbbing of the pulse at the side of his neck, wishing she could touch him there, but not quite daring to at the moment.

"Maybe itīs time for yet another wish of yours," he said in a deep, raspy voice.

"You mean I can open another package?" she replied in a half-hearted attempt at teasing.

He said nothing, and Catherine thought her heart would stop beating as he reached up to the laces of his vest and started to unfasten them one by one. At a loss for words, she watched in stunned fascination as he slid the padded garment off his shoulders and arms. His hands went up to the collar of his heavy shirt, undoing its fastenings with deft movements. Only when the front of the shirt came open, revealing a tawny profusion of hair peeking out from beneath a patched undershirt, did Catherineīs mind begin to function again. She was a little shocked, but not at all surprised, that Vincent knew of her secret wish to see him, to touch him, all of him. Heat rose in her cheeks at the image rising within her, an image that was quickly surpassed by the sight before her eyes. He had discarded his shirt, and his movements betrayed not the slightest hesitation as he pulled off the undershirt as well. Resting his palms on his thighs as he sat back on his heels, he waited silently for her reaction.

Catherine had known all along that she could never find him anything else but beautiful, but the truth of him was so much more than she had expected. She dropped her gaze to the elegant, sensitive hands that rested on the tautly stretched fabric of his jeans. Her eyes travelled up his muscular, hairy arms to his wide shoulders, and then to his broad, heaving chest which was covered with soft-looking hair. Wondering if it would feel as silky as it appeared, Catherine brought up one hand. For a moment, she held it suspended in the air between them, as if touching him was something sacred she wasnīt yet ready for. But suddenly his hand was there, holding and guiding her toward him. She leaned forward, combing reverent fingers through the sleek hair that covered him, not noticing her awkward position until he put his arms around her and drew her to him. Finally she knelt between his thighs, and the pull of him was so intense that she couldnīt help but bury her face against his chest, pressing soft, searching kisses on his skin. He groaned, and she noted with silent joy that he didnīt try to conceal it this time. Her mouth traveled up the valley between his strong pectoral muscles, and she lost herself in nibbling his throat and the underside of his jaw. Suddenly her blouse was being tugged from the waistband of her jeans, and Vincentīs warm, rough palms slid up her back, stroking and caressing her tingling skin.

Her lips had reached the corners of his mouth now, and she probed gently with her tongue, begging for entrance. He took her in gladly, eagerly, and she grabbed his shoulders, clinging to him with something akin to desperation. The cleft in his upper lip was sleek and tender, and she found out quickly that it brought a devastating response from him if she touched him there. He was panting now, and his scent had changed from the usual odor of candlewax and night air to a heady muskiness that numbed her thinking, but sensitized everything else in her.

"No more turning back," was all she could manage, before she drowned in his hot, ardent kisses. She felt herself being lifted from his lap as Vincent put her down amid the pillows, and for a moment he hovered above her as if he were hesitating. Instantly her arm snaked around his neck to prevent him from withdrawing.

"No more turning back," he reassured her in a breathy voice before he lowered himself on top of her, taking her mouth in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

"No more barriers between us," she whispered into his ear, and he pushed himself up on his knees again, watching as she sat up and started working on the buttons of her blouse. Her hands were shaking, and she was glad when he tenderly brushed them aside and finished the task for her. She watched his face very closely as he undid her bra and pulled it off. His eyes were luminous and deep as he ran them appreciatively over her bare skin. Soon his hands followed, and finally his lips. She watched in a haze as he left her briefly to pull off the rest of his clothing, and she enjoyed his self-confidence when he freed her of hers. Only when she felt his furred belly brush against hers, did she take action again. She rose on one elbow and pushed him on his back, surveying the full length of him admiringly. "I love you, Vincent," she whispered, "and here is my last and ultimate wish."

He looked up at her with wonderment in his eyes. "Anything, Catherine," he promised, his voice hoarse with emotion.

She lowered her head and kissed him tenderly. "Be there with me," she demanded softly, "every Christmas and every day of my life, because you are all Iīll ever wish for."

He rolled her on her back, and she kissed the tears from his lashes as he joined their bodies at last.

Epilogue

The light of Christmas morning fell in through the bedroom windows as Catherine smiled down on her most precious gift who lay sprawled across her bed in all his naked glory. His eyes were still shut, but she could feel that he was close to awakening. Bending over him, she placed a tender kiss on his bristled upper lip.

"Merry Christmas, darling," she whispered soulfully, "and a happy new life."