The Trouble With Paradise

being aware of it, grabbed him by the throat and held, squeezing the air from his lungs. She could destroy him with nothing more than her eyes.

“Lost,” she repeated. “And you know what?”

Suddenly it hurt to breathe, much less talk, so he just shook his head.

“I’ve also, somehow, found my way,” she whispered, and there was something in her eyes that made his chest hurt even more.

Her heart.

Oh, God. Not that. Not her damn heart. He told himself to turn away. To just continue on with his shower and his very rare, very private moment of reflection. In fact, he reached out to shut the shower door, blocking her, but somehow his brain didn’t get the message to his hands because they fisted in her top and hauled her into the shower with him.

She gasped, a sound he swallowed with his mouth, and he realized almost immediately that this kiss was different than their others.

Not just sex.

Ah, hell. If he could just get her out of his head, but she’d been stuck there since he first laid eyes on her at the dock in Fiji, alone and just a little bit bedraggled, a little bit bewildered, and a whole lot sweet and sexy.

Not.

Just.

Sex.

God. Pulling her in, he softened the connection. Not as wild now, not as out of control. Not as new, but no less necessary.

Sweet. Slow. Hot.

Deep.

Deeper than any kiss he could remember, and then he wasn’t thinking at all because she let out a soft, helpless little murmur that he inhaled and felt as his own.

She undid him. Completely undid him. He didn’t know how that would translate in the real world, but right now as he turned her, pressing her back against the tile, holding her there with his body, so his hands could roam over her wet, hot one, he didn’t care.

“I want you,” she whispered. “So much.”

Stopping nearly killed him, but he lifted his head. “I want you, too, Dorie.” He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. “So damned much it hurts, but-”

“But it doesn’t change anything. I know, Christian.”

When he opened his eyes, hers were shiny, too shiny, but she was smiling. “It’s okay.” Then she kissed him. Kissed him until he could do nothing but wrap her in his arms and moan her name. Only when air was necessary did he pull back, looking into her eyes, those amazing, mesmerizing eyes.

“I know what’s in store tomorrow, Christian,” she said softly. “And I still want today.”

God. He pressed his forehead to hers. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve her, and for her sake, he needed to stop the madness. “I can’t do this to you. I-”

“I’m a big girl, Christian. Now love me. I want to remember this. You.”

Lifting his head, he stroked his fingers over her jaw. “I’ll never forget you.”

“I intend to make sure of that.”

Then she put her mouth to his again, and pulled him under.

TWENTY-FOUR

When Christian came up for air, Dorie’s lashes were wet, sticking together, the shower water running down her face and into her clothing, which was plastered to her every curve. He’d never seen anything so sexy. “Do you always take a shower with your clothes on?”

She smiled. “It’s becoming a habit.”

Taking the hem of her top in his hands, he lifted. Raising up her arms, she let him pull it off over her head and toss it out of the shower. Her eyes filled with arousal and trust and so damned much affection and need he nearly had to close his.

Don’t need me. Christ, don’t need me. At the end of the day, he never had anything left in the tank to give to someone.

At least that’s what he’d always thought, what he’d believed, and he’d lived his life by it. He healed others, that’s what he did, the end.

A little breathless, she smiled again, the one that clenched his gut tight and knotted him up, all in good ways, ways he hadn’t believed possible. Her bra was pale peach and sheer, revealing everything to him, including the fact that he turned her on every bit as much as she turned him on. Flicking open the front clasp, the blood drained from his head for parts south at the low, sexy catch in her throat. Then the bra slipped and fell to the shower floor, and he couldn’t think at all.

She had tan lines, her limbs darkened from the last few days in the sun. Her breasts were perfectly outlined as if she was still wearing her bikini top, the skin there pale and glistening, her nipples hard and pebbled.

With water running over them.

“I’ve had a lot of firsts this week,” she said very quietly, her voice husky as her arms slid up his chest and around his neck, one of her hands sinking into his hair, her fingers tightening. “All life-changing firsts.”

Life-changing. He opened his mouth to ask her to clarify, but then her gaze dipped to his lips and he knew she wanted another kiss.

With their mouths already lined up, only a breath away, with her breasts smashed up against his chest, it was going to happen. But he forced himself to hold back a beat, to make sure he could, and it was just hard enough that he knew the truth. He wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman in a good long time.

Maybe ever.

The enforced wait had anticipation flowing through him, he slid his hands down her sides, barely grazing her breasts, her ribs, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her skirt, which was clinging to her hips and legs like a second skin. He knew he had no right to this, but neither could he summon the strength to stop. “You should really walk away from me.”

Instead, she pressed her body to his. “Don’t say no,” she whispered.

Was she kidding? It’d have taken a bigger man than himself. He slid her skirt down her legs until it pooled at their feet on top of her bra.

She was wearing a tiny scrap of green silk with tinier yellow daisies embroidered on the edging, which for some reason made him smile.

“I know I don’t match. I’m not the most organized-”

When he tugged them off, she shut up. With the water hammering his back, he slid to his knees and pressed his mouth to her hip.

“Oh,” she breathed.

Her other hip.

Her fingers sinking in his hair. “What if someone comes?”

He ran his tongue along the edge of the cotton. “The only person who’s going to come is you.”

Her head thunked back against the tile as her fingers tightened in his hair, hard enough to make him wince, but instead he smiled. Smiled as he drew her into his mouth and made her cry out his name. Smiled while driving her over the edge and into his arms. Smiled as he stood up, lifted her up and thrust into her.

He couldn’t remember ever grinning as he took a woman before, and couldn’t have imagined it, but then her creamy heat surrounded him, pulled him in, and his amusement faded away. In its place came that ache in his chest. A physical pain.

“Christian,” she murmured, her hands cupping his face. Pressing her forehead to his, she panted softly as he moved within her. “I never knew-”