"God damn," Tobias swore. That was his usual response when something spectacular happened, good or bad. Maybe it wasn't the most romantic trait, but right now he could barely form a word, let alone properly select one.

He rolled away from Carolyn, suddenly afraid he was going to squash her with his big bulk. She was so delicate and angelic-looking, even with her sweat-dampened hair clinging to her temples and her chest heaving.

Of course, he knew by now that appearances were deceiving. Carolyn was a lot tougher than she looked. And a lot wilder. That art-professor exterior hid a fiery passionate side. And he was damn grateful for that.

Her eyes were closed, her eyelashes fanned against the fragile skin underneath her eyes. A flush still burned on her cheeks. "You okay?" he whispered, in case she'd dropped off to sleep.

"Mmmm," she mumbled. "'Okay' doesn't seem adequate. Delirious, maybe?"

"Delirious. Not bad. You saying I gave you a fever?" He stroked a finger down her soft cheek.

"Yes, you're like a virus. Really hard to get rid of."

He smiled and curled his finger around a long strand of her hair. "But why would you want to, when I'm making it my mission to make you feel good?"

"Mission accomplished," she purred, moving under his touch. "Thank you. I approve of your mission."

"I'm pretty fond of it myself. It has some nice side-benefits." He moved his finger to the breast closest to him and circled it gently. "Your breasts are a work of art. Look at this areola, it's such a pretty color, like a rose petal. And your skin is like ice cream. French vanilla."

She laughed. "Are you hungry?"

"I guess I am. I didn't eat much at the party, I was thinking about other things. Like your breasts." He grinned wickedly and touched his tongue to her nipple. The soft flesh pebbled immediately. "Can you make me a slide of this masterpiece? I want to drool over them any time I want." He took the peak of her breast into his mouth and sucked lightly.

She gave a soft gasp. "Don't get any crazy ideas. We're not doing this again until I recuperate. It's a good thing Merry gave me a plate of leftovers, because I don't have a thing in the house. Did you notice how she winked when she handed it over?"

"No. I didn't notice anything except your ass in that dress, with those heels." He slid his hand along the curves of her rib cage and waist, until her reached her rear. He lightly squeezed the smooth globes, then stroked small circles across the sensitive skin. "The first time I met you, your boots got me all hot and bothered. There's just something about your footwear, woman."

She sighed deeply. "Do you know that the first time I noticed your hands, when you were picking up cheese doodles off the pavers, I wondered what they'd feel like?"

"Really."

"Yes. It's silly, but you were so deft and gentle with those little orange puffs. It seemed crazy that hands like a bear's paws could be so precise. It made me wonder."

"So what do you think now?" He smoothed a path across her hipbone, into the valley leading to her pelvic mound. He tangled his fingers in the soft, sandy brown curls that covered her sex. So unlike his own darker skin and nearly black hair.

The contrast was arousing all on its own.

She shifted as he touched her. "Seriously," she sighed. "We should have a snack." But he noticed that she didn't move away, and made no effort to actually get off the bed. "And then we should come back and work it off."

"Now you're talking. We can finally have that rematch we keep talking about."

"Exactly." She rolled onto her side and tucked her hands under her face. "Tobias Knight."

He mimicked her seriousness. "Carolyn Moore."

"I've never had a one-night stand before."

He stilled. One-night stand? Is that what she thought this was? He'd had his share of one-nighters; it came with the territory of being at the military's beck and call. "Okay," he said warily. "That's good. They're not very satisfying."

Her eyelids flickered. "That sounds like the voice of experience."

"I've had a few. I wouldn't recommend it."

She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and scanned his face. "But do you know they're going to be one-night stands beforehand? Or do you decide afterwards? I've always wondered that."

He shot her a narrow-eyed look. He didn't like the direction of this conversation, not one bit. The thought of her walking away already—after one night, no, half a night—bothered him. "What are you getting at here? Do you see this as a one-night stand? Because I have something to say about that."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Like what?"

"Like, I haven't had nearly enough of you. Not even close. Besides, this could never have been a one-night stand because the foreplay has lasted for weeks now."

"Excuse me? That was called 'getting to know each other,' not foreplay."

He shrugged. "Whatever. Back to the main point. This one-night stand concept. I'm opposed. I don't even know why you're bringing it up."

She smiled at him, and he noticed for the first time that she had the faintest trace of a dimple near her bottom lip. "Because this is different for me. I don't usually act like this. I'm a mild-mannered adjunct professor."

"Who can rock a pair of high heels like nobody's business." He ran his hand across the ridge of her hipbone. "Look, I don't know what you mean by 'act like this.' We had sex. Great sex. At least it was great for me. Is there a problem? Some reason why you never want it to happen again?"

"No. No reason." Her smile turned almost shy. "You think it was great sex?"

"Are you insane? Weren't you paying attention?" He swung himself on top of her and mimicked a shot in the heart. "It was bombs-away, fire- when-ready, nuclear-blast hot. You're a bombshell. If you don't know that, we have some serious work to do here."

She laughed delightedly at his little performance, and it occurred to him that growing up in that crazy compound must have done a number on her ideas about sexuality.

"Listen. I love sex, Caro. I'll never apologize for that. And you shouldn't either."

She struck an unbearably sexy pose, arms linked overhead, the tip of her tongue appearing between her lips. "So I can do stuff like this and you won't mind?"

"I'll just have to live with it."

Later, they raided the fridge for the leftovers Merry had given Carolyn. He'd barely glanced at her living room when he'd first arrived. Now he saw that it was a small two-bedroom filled with books and framed art pieces on the walls. It had a vintage feel with its wide window sills, hardwood floors and cracked plaster walls. Cute, but it probably had plumbing problems. The place was a tumbled mess, with boxes and suitcases spilling open.

"Welcome back to Jupiter Point," he said dryly.

"Right? I guess you know what I'll be doing during this Christmas break." Wearing a robe printed with brightly colored parrots, she pulled a plate covered with tinfoil from the fridge. "I can heat this up really quickly."

"Nah, don't bother. In the military I learned to see food as fuel and I still haven't shaken it."

"Really? I'm obsessed with food. It feels like freedom to me. When I first left the Light Keepers, I was afraid of all the variety of food. Then I went crazy trying different cuisines. Greek, Ethiopian, Indian, whatever. I loved it all."

She peeled the foil off the plate to reveal a hunk of baked brie in soft layers of brioche, some pomegranate salad, cloverleaf rolls, sliced baked ham. His mouth watered at the sight.

"So this food was at the party and I didn't even notice it?" He laughed. "You really have my head spinning, woman. Normally I'd be all over a spread like this."

She laughed as she rinsed off a small plate, then filled it with a bit of everything. "I guess the magic has worn off, then. You're looking at that ham as if you want to marry it."

"Will you, piece of sliced ham, take this man, Tobias Knight, in holy matrimony, for better or worse, inside or outside the belly, in a sandwich or just rolled up and stuffed into the mouth…" He popped a slice into his mouth, enjoying her laughter at his goofiness.

"Looks like a match made in heaven. A happy life to you both," she said solemnly.

They grinned at each other as they dug into their food, sitting across from each other at the tiny cooking island that separated her living room from her kitchen. A comfortable silence settled over them. Often, after sex with a new lover, things felt awkward. But there was no sense of that with Carolyn. She knew so many things about him already—about his father, his feelings of guilt, his devotion to his brothers.

"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about," he said, mock serious, after he'd taken the first edge off his hunger. "We need to discuss this dimple of yours?" He traced the little divot in her skin. "You must have been the cutest little kid in the world. Like a poster child for cute."

She flinched away from him, her smile disappearing off her face, along with the dimple. "Don't say that."

"Sorry. It was meant to be a compliment. You're not cute at all. You must have been a hideous child."

Finally she snorted, almost laughing, though she still wouldn't meet his eyes. "It's the term you used. Poster child. Hang on, I'll show you."

She went into the living room and crouched down next to one of the boxes. He watched the smooth line of her back and rear as she searched through the box. He loved the way she was built, so long and elegant.

Of course he also remembered what it felt like to be felled by one sweep of her right ankle. Elegant was only part of the story of Carolyn.

When she stood, she held a scrap of old newspaper slid into a laminated sheet. She handed him the newspaper clipping. It was an ad for a Light Keepers open house. Two young blond girls were hugging each other and smiling toward the camera. One of them flashed an adorable dimple. The ad read, "Worried about your children's future? In a changing world, it's no wonder. Save your family, fight for your community. Visit us and learn how the Light Keepers can bring your family into the light."

"Is that you?" He squinted at the image.

"Yes. I was the poster child for the Light Keepers. The actual poster child. This photo was taken right after my dad moved us there. No one ever asked me if I wanted to be a recruitment tool. I was so embarrassed. People used to recognize me when I worked at the farm stand. It was horrible."

"Who's the other girl?"

"That was Tiffany. She was supposedly my friend. The kind of friend my dad and stepmother wanted me to have. Except I missed my real best friend. Her name was Mira Ahmed and she had gorgeous black wavy hair and an accent and she was hilarious. We used to laugh so hard together. She was the sister I never had and always wanted. Then my stepmother came along. She hated the fact that Mira and I were friends."

Tobias handed the photo back to her. "Just curious, why do you hang onto a photo with such bad memories?"

She tucked it back into the box. "I don't have any pictures of Mira. My dad got rid of them. But every time I look at this one, I remember her and how much I missed her. She was my real best friend."

"What happened to her?"

"My dad and Lilith got deeper into the Light Keepers, and all of a sudden they didn't want me to play with Mira anymore. I threw a fit, which made them decide I needed a more "wholesome" environment. So we moved into the compound." She walked back to the cooking island and slid onto her stool. "From then on, all my friends were white, just the way my stepmother wanted."

Tobias chewed on his ham sandwich. "What about Merry?"

"Now, it's different. I can choose my own friends. Of course, Merry doesn't know I was a poster child for blondness. I'm afraid to tell her."

"Knowing Merry, she'd probably laugh her ass off over it. She has a way of cutting through the bullshit."

Carolyn grinned and folded a piece of ham around a chunk of brie, then layered brioche around it. "And I love her for that. You know, when I'm hanging out with Merry, I see little things that drive me nuts. Store clerks accept my credit card without question, but she has to pull out her ID. She gets followed around in department stores, as if she's going to shoplift something. It's insulting. Merry shrugs it off, but I'm sure it hurts. It hurts me. I want to apologize for the whole world, for myself, for the Light Keepers. I have to bite my tongue because she probably doesn't want that. I wish I could apologize to Mira, too, for disappearing. I tried to find her after I left the Light Keepers. I never could."

"That's too bad. A good friend's like gold."

"Yes. Losing her, after my mother dying, it was really tough." She dragged a piece of brioche through a puddle of cranberry sauce. "I hope you know how lucky you are to have all those brothers."

"I can spare a couple. Want one? Not Ben, though. He might move in. Did he ask you out, by the way? At the party?"

She nearly choked on brioche she'd just popped into her mouth. "Excuse me? Of course not. I'm with—"

"With me. Exactly. Glad we cleared that up." He gave her a wolfish smile. "And that one night thing? Forget about it."

He loved watching that delicious pink color fill her face. "Who put you in charge?"

"I'm not in charge. I'm just hoping. Hoping the poster child of sexy goddesses gives me another shot."

She rolled her eyes, but the quirk at the corner of her lips gave her away. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm honest. I'd like a nice, big, life-size poster of you. Naked would be best."

She shook her head at him and swallowed her brioche. "In all my pale-skinned blondness? Ugh. Want to know something funny? After I left the Light Keepers, I got a job as a chambermaid at a hotel because they let me stay there in exchange for half my wages. I saved up and paid for a DNA test. I had all these weird feelings about being white, because they talked about it so much at the Light Keepers. I wanted to know exactly what was in my DNA. Turns out I have a certain percentage of African, another bit of Native American." She grinned widely. "It was such a relief. No more poster child for me."

"I guess you're just a mutt like the rest of us low-lifes."

"I like mutts. And dogs of all kinds." She pulled a teasing face at him. "Just don't tell Aiden."

"Have you thought about getting a dog in place of Dragon?"

"I can't, the poor thing would be stuck inside this tiny house all day while I teach. But of course I've thought about it," she admitted. "Having Dragon around was…I loved it. Closest thing I've had to a family in ten years. God, what's in this ham? Something's making me jabber on like an idiot."

"Maybe all that great sex loosened your tongue."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "I may never have sex again, in that case. It turned me into a blabbermouth."

"Now you're just being mean." He planted his forearms on the counter and leaned toward her, narrowing his eyes. "And unrealistic. It would take an asteroid hitting this house to stop us from having sex again."

He caught her quick shiver of reaction.

"Water?" she asked.

"Sure." Deflection. He was sure of it.

She pulled two glasses from a cupboard and filled them from the faucet, then handed one to him. Before he took a sip from it, he said, "There's something I've been wondering. How did you get into the field you're in? Art history?"

She drank half her glass, then set it down on the counter and climbed back onto her stool. "This might sound rather random. And seriously, are you sure you want me to keep talking? I've been going nonstop since we got out of bed."

"I love to hear you talk. Consider it more foreplay, because watching your mouth move, and all those interesting words come out of it, mm-mmmm. It's a turn-on, babe."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and planted her elbow on the counter, pinning him with a provocative under-her-eyelashes look. "You know what's a real turn-on? You listening to me say all those words. Makes me want to lick up one side of you and down the other. Then I want to find that spot right in the middle where your gorgeous shaft is waiting for me. That big, thick, hot—"

"Okay, okay, you win." He shifted uncomfortably on his stool, because that big thick cock she mentioned was getting bigger and thicker with each word. "Let's just agree that you can get me turned on without hardly trying. Now back to the question."

She sighed and abandoned her flirty position. "Fine. I told you that we had our own school at the Light Keepers, right? We had math and English, stuff like that. No science or history, unless it was religious history. I don't know how it happened, but one of the books in our tiny school collection was about Italian art. It had an angel by Raphael on the cover, so somehow it slipped past the teachers. However, most of the photos in the book did not show paintings of angels."

"Let me guess. A bunch of old men in red velvet hats?"

"No." She lowered her voice, as if sharing a naughty secret. "They had naked people. Botticelli's Venus on her clamshell. A photo of Michelangelo's David, without a trace of a fig leaf. I saw his penis. You have no idea how revolutionary that was for me."

Tobias felt his own penis swelling in response to her story. Was that pathetic, that merely hearing her mention the word "penis" got him aroused?

"I found that book when I was thirteen or so. I was dying of curiosity about my own body, and no one would tell me anything. That book was like a lifeline to another world. In that book, bodies weren't secret or shameful somehow. I memorized that book. Every word, every photo. I can't even really explain what it meant to me, except it felt like home. Maybe I was Mona Lisa in a previous lifetime." She ended on a light note and dipped a finger in the mustard that had dripped onto her plate. She touched it to her tongue.

He wanted that tongue on his cock so badly, his eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed his glass of water and downed it. She smiled innocently at him. Most likely, she had no idea what a powerful effect she had on him.

“I have my master’s degree,” she continued, “which was enough to get hired at JPCC, but I’ve stalled out on my doctorate. I love the teaching part, looking at those beautiful paintings. You know back then, they were just coming out of the Dark Ages. Discovering science and rational thinking, moving away from superstition. I think I connected with that as well. But mostly, with that first book I saw, it was the naked people that got me interested.”

She gave his bare chest a suggestive once-over. "And now I have one in my very own living room."

"Okay, last question. Are you done eating yet? Because I'm all fueled up and ready to go, and you're still picking at that plate of food like it has to last all year."

"It's good to eat slowly. You just shoveled yours right down your throat. That's not healthy."

"Eat fast, fuck slow, that's my motto."

A satisfying blush crept up her cheeks. "Do you always talk like that?"

"I can be refined if I have to." He put on a British accent he'd learned while stationed in England. Whenever he used it, he sounded like an old British grande dame, like Judi Dench or Maggie Smith. It used to make his fellow pilots roll on the floor with laughter. "Dah-ling, this ham and brie is absolutely divine. Now I do hope you're nearly finished, dah-ling, as my cock has swollen to the size of an overstuffed sausage and I would very much like to put it in you."

She burst out laughing. "Is that so?"

"Indeed it is, young miss. Jolly good, upsy-daisy now. Up with you and off with your clothes. You've been a naughty girl, young miss, and naughty girls belong in one place only. That would be my bed."

"I have not been a naughty girl," she pointed out. "And that bed is mine."

"Enough of this tiresome quibbling." He wrestled with the smile that wanted to take over his face. The accent cracked him up as much as it did anyone else. "Why must the common people make everything so difficult? Christmas Eve, and all I want is a jolly good fuck. Is that so much to ask?"

Still laughing helplessly, Carolyn grabbed her phone and held it up so he could see the time. "No more Christmas Eve sex for you. It's Christmas."

They both went still for a moment. Quiet settled around them. He pictured the little town of Jupiter Point, all tucked in for the night, the ring of foothills rising toward the towering mountain range to the east. Acres and miles of forests and wilderness, stretching to the far horizon. To the west, the cliffs, the waterfront, Pacific Ocean, a moonlit path across endless waves.

And right in the middle, him and Carolyn. Wrapped up together in silence.

"Oh holy night," he murmured.

A smile shimmered across her face. "Is it?"

"It is to me," he said firmly. He got to his feet, rounded the counter and drew her off her stool. "There's no place I'd rather be than right here. With you."

This time, when they came together in her bed, it felt different. Almost sacred, as if the newborn day cast a spell around them. Afterwards, falling asleep in her arms, a sense of quiet joy filtered through him, lightening the shadows in his heart.