He laid her down on the bed and hovered above her, teasing her with light touches of his lips to hers. “What do you want?”

“You.” She reached for him, trying to bring him down on top of her. “Just you.”

He shook his head and then kissed her neck. “You have to tell me.”

“Cole…” She moaned when he added his tongue to the action on her neck.

“What?” he whispered in her ear.

Olivia squirmed under him as he drove her wild with just the tip of his tongue against her ear. The sensations rocketed through her, causing her nipples to tingle and heat to pool at her core. She caressed the hard muscle of his chest and shoulders.

“I need you. Don’t tease.”

“Why not? It’s so much fun.”

She closed her eyes tight against an almost painful wave of desire.

“For who?”

Laughing softly, he rolled his lips over her nipple through the silk nightgown.

Olivia, who hadn’t seen that coming, almost flew off the bed. She clutched a handful of his hair to anchor him to her chest.

“Tell me,” he urged. “Tonight is all about you, so I need to know what you want.”

She felt the flush of longing from her breasts to her face. “I want you.” Her voice was small when she added, “In me.”

“What part of me?”

Her wail of dismay echoed like a sob as he continued to toy with her nipple. “All of you.”

Nudging aside the flimsy silk of her thong, he pushed two fingers into her, and she came instantly. As she rode the wave, he sent his tongue plunging into her open mouth, mimicking the motion of his relentless fingers.

“God, Liv,” he whispered. “You’re so hot.”

The two-pronged assault on her senses made her head spin and her heart pound. She was aware of him removing the nightgown and thong as well as the rest of his own clothes. And when his hot mouth closed over her sensitive nipple, Olivia almost came again. She reached for him and curled her hand around his straining erection, but he stopped her before she could stroke him.

“Don’t, baby,” he rasped. “I’m hanging by a thread here.”

“Then don’t wait,” she said, urging him to enter her.

“Not yet.” He kissed his way down to her belly. “You haven’t gotten everything you asked for.”

Pushing her knees as far apart as he could get them, he teased her with endless strokes of his tongue on her thighs that stopped just short of where she wanted him. Finally, he gave her his tongue in soft but determined caresses.

Olivia clutched the duvet and lifted her hips in answer to his questing strokes. She was so hot she feared she would combust if he kept it up much longer. The heat built until it was almost unbearable. And then she shattered into a million pieces. He stayed with her throughout the tumult and only let up when she had returned softly to earth, her eyes closed tight against the rush of emotion. That it was possible to feel so much, even more than ever before, amazed her.

He sat up to reach for a condom on the bedside table, but she stopped him.

His eyebrow arched in a questioning look.

“I want to feel you.” She tugged at him. “Just you.”

“Liv, we shouldn’t.”

“What does it matter now?” She sat up, eased him onto his back, and straddled him.

“Wait, honey.”

“Shh.” Olivia leaned forward to kiss him and slid her hot wetness back and forth over his hard length.

He groaned, held her still, and surged up and into her in one smooth move.

Olivia gasped at the impact and struggled to accommodate him. She tossed her head back, reveling in the sensation of being filled by him. For a long time she stayed still, her hands on his chest supporting her weight. Then she began to move the way she knew he liked.

She looked down to find his eyes closed, his lip rolled between his teeth, and his forehead damp with sweat. Reaching for his hands, she laced her fingers through his and held on tight as she pivoted her hips back and forth.

“Liv,” he gasped. “You’re killing me.”

“Good,” she said, keeping up the pace.

He squeezed her hands as his eyes flew open and found hers in the soft light.

She raised their joined hands and brought them down on either side of his head. Leaning forward, she kissed him softly, all the while keeping her eyes fixed on his and her hips moving.

He surprised her when he suddenly turned them over without losing their connection.

As he pounded into her, she was exhilarated to realize she had once again broken his control. This was how she loved him best—wild and driven to take and take and then take more. Everything.

He dipped his head and sucked hard on her nipple, sending her into a climax that ripped through her like a freight train. Then his hands were under her, holding her tight against him as he went deep one last time and let himself go with a cry of release ripped straight from his soul.

Looping her arms around him, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, still joined with him in every possible way.

* * *

Cole worried he might be crushing her. He dropped a kiss on the side of her breast as her chest rose and fell in an easy cadence.

“Am I hurting you?” When he received no answer, he raised his head. “Liv?”

He smiled when he realized she was asleep. It was no wonder she was exhausted. She amazed him. He had never been with a woman who could be counted on for no fewer than three orgasms every time they made love. He wondered if that was just another sign of a perfect match. Maybe he’d never experienced such a thing because he had been making love to—or, he should say, having sex with—the wrong women.

He’d also never in his life had unprotected sex, and now that he knew what he’d been missing… well, it would be damned hard to go back to using condoms after experiencing what it was like to bury himself in her with nothing between them but love and desire.

As he planted a kiss on her breastbone, he watched her pretty pink lips part and then move as if she was dreaming. Was she dreaming of him? He certainly hoped so. Withdrawing from her, he reached for the soft chenille blanket at the foot of the bed to cover her. He kissed her cheek, and just in case she wasn’t completely asleep, he whispered, “I love you.”

She mumbled and turned into him.

He held her for a long time before he got up to take a shower.

Standing under the pulsing massage of the hot water, he thought of her joy at selling her painting, the way her face had lit up when she told the story to her loved ones at home, her almost childlike enthusiasm for the exotic food they had shared over dinner, and the awestruck reaction she’d had to the Top of the Mark. He loved her so much. And now there might be a baby to love, too.

For the first time since his college girlfriend rebuffed his proposal, he could imagine asking the question again. He laughed to himself when he thought of what his mother—who had long ago given up on ever seeing her oldest child settled down—would’ve said about him being ready to take the plunge with a woman he’d known only six weeks. Yes, she would have enjoyed this.

Time hardly mattered in a situation like this, he reasoned. He had known instantly that Olivia was special, just by the tender way she had cared for him after the incident in the store. She had shown him her heart in those first few minutes, and nothing that had happened since then had detracted from that crucial first impression. If anything, she had demonstrated time and again that he’d been right to go back to find her after thinking about her for two long weeks.

Being in love like this made him feel dizzy and breathless, just like flying fighter jets when every move had to be carefully considered. The last thing in the world he wanted was drive her away by pushing for too much too soon.

She was right when she said they were at different places in their lives. Now that he had her in his life, he was ready for all the things he had disdained for so many years. But that wasn’t what she wanted. Not yet anyway. If they were having a baby, though, that would move things along.

He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist. Using a hand towel to dry his hair, he wandered into the bedroom, anxious for reassurance that she was still there.

She slept on her side with her hand under her cheek. Her silky dark hair was fanned out on the pillow, in sharp contrast to the snow-white sheets.

Cole wanted to wrap himself around her and never let go. For a guy who had spent most of his life avoiding commitment, the feeling was new and unexpected. He had also taken meticulous care to ensure there would be no unplanned children. But because of her, none of that frightened him anymore. No, the only thing he was truly afraid of now was that he would somehow manage to push her away by wanting her too damned much.

* * *

Olivia woke up thirsty at two-thirty and was disoriented for a moment. The last thing she remembered was making crazy love with Cole and then… nothing. Had she really conked out right after? That was kind of embarrassing. I hope he doesn’t think I didn’t like it or that I was bored. Nothing could be further from the truth. He looked so adorable and peaceful, asleep on his back with an arm thrown over his head. She wanted to wake him to apologize for falling asleep, but she couldn’t bring herself to disturb him.

Getting up, she went to find some water and was surprised to feel a rush of sticky wetness between her legs. Oh, no! No, no, no! The disappointment overwhelmed her. She’d had no idea until that very second just how badly she wanted the baby she wasn’t even sure she was carrying. Then she remembered they hadn’t used a condom, and maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t her period but something else.

She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer, “Please, please, please.” Her eyes opened slowly and took a moment to focus. She had to look again to be certain. It wasn’t her period. The relief was so overwhelming that she closed her eyes to absorb the feeling. By the time she had showered and changed into a clean T-shirt and panties, she was wide awake and full of nervous energy.

As she took a long drink from a bottle of water, she decided to work for a while until she felt sleepy again. She set up her paints at the wide desk and got busy.

That’s where Cole found her at eight o’clock the next morning. Drying paintings occupied every available surface in the room.

“Jesus, Liv,” he uttered as he picked up her take on the view from the Top of the Mark. “Have you been at it all night?”

Startled, she looked up at him. “What?”

“Have you been working all night?”

“Just since three.”

“After the way you passed out on me, I figured you were down for the count.”

“I’m so sorry about that. I hope you didn’t think—”

He smiled. “That I’d worn you out?”

Her face heated with embarrassment. “Well, you did.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he said, trailing a finger over her cheek. “So you couldn’t sleep?”

“I woke up, and I thought…”

He traded the painting he’d been holding for one of Fisherman’s Wharf. “Thought what?”

“That I’d gotten my period.”

His eyes flew up to meet hers. “And you didn’t?”

“No.”

She saw the relief on his face and understood exactly how he felt.

“Good.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “How about some coffee?”

She smiled up at him. “I’d love some.”

“I’ll call.”

“Cole?”

He turned back to her.

“Are they any good?” She bit her lip. “The paintings?”

“Let me put it this way—after I call for coffee, I’m going to give your client a ring. He’s going to want to see what you’ve done here.”

* * *

Victor invited them to dinner at his home, a contemporary built into one of the hills above Sausalito that overlooked the bay, the bridge, and the city in the distance. Victor and his partner, Paulo, had lived in the house for more than fifteen of the twenty years they had been together, and after Paolo made a big deal about meeting Cole, the first thing they did was show Olivia her framed painting on the wall of their study.

Seeing it displayed so prominently as part of their vast and eclectic collection made Cole’s heart race with excitement for her. His hand closed around hers and their eyes met. Sharing the delight only made the moment sweeter.

“We understand there’s more,” Paolo said, rubbing his hands together. He had dark hair, a deep olive complexion, and a thick Spanish accent, even though he said he’d lived most of his adult life in the United States.

“Victor comes home from his walk yesterday all excited about the new artist he discovered.” With Paolo’s accent, “Victor” became “Veektor.” “We were so happy to hear from you today.”

“You’ll have to excuse Paolo.” Victor rested a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “He went nuts over your painting, so he can barely contain himself waiting to see what else you’ve got.”

Cole handed Victor the portfolio they had bought earlier in the day to transport her latest work. As Victor and Paolo poured over the paintings, Cole kept his arm tight around Olivia.

At one point Paolo looked up at Olivia, his eyes gleaming.

Cole felt her tremble so he leaned in and brushed a kiss over her cheek.

Finally, they reached the end of the portfolio. “We’ll have a show,” Paolo declared.

“A show?” Olivia stammered.

“At our gallery in town,” Paolo said. “Let’s see, what is it now, November? We’ll do a show in March. Do you have more?”

Olivia had gone mute again, so Cole answered for her. “She has a huge collection of paintings. She does amazing drawings, too.”

“What kind of drawings?” Victor asked.

“All kinds but mostly portraits,” Olivia managed to say.

“Why don’t you show them, Liv?” Cole said. All eyes shifted to him. “Give her fifteen minutes, and you’ll have something you’ll treasure forever.”

“I didn’t bring my sketch pad,” Olivia stammered.

“We have one,” Victor said, “but only if you’re game. We didn’t invite you here to work.”

“I’d love to draw you both.”

“She probably thinks you have good bone structure,” Cole added dryly.

Both men laughed.

“That’s what I said about him. He’s still trying to decide if it was a compliment.”

“Let’s go into the library,” Paolo suggested. “Victor set a fire before you arrived, and it should be nice and warm in there.”

With the toy poodle skipping along at their heels, Cole and Olivia followed them through the single-story house where one room flowed into another. They had used an intriguing mix of antiques and contemporary pieces to create a warm but stylish environment dominated by art of all kinds.

The library boasted two floor-to-ceiling walls of books. The other walls were windows that had been situated to take full advantage of the view of Sausalito below and San Francisco in the distance. The sunset and fire cast a cozy glow over the room.

“What an amazing house!” Olivia said.

“We love it,” Victor said. “We can hide out if we want, yet we’re close enough to both towns to be there in minutes.”

“Oh, here’s Marta,” Paolo said as a young Hispanic woman came into the room. He introduced her to Cole and Olivia as their cook, housekeeper, and life manager.

Cole noticed Marta’s startled expression when she recognized him, but she refrained from comment.

“How about some of Napa’s finest?” Victor suggested.

When Cole and Olivia nodded in agreement, Marta left to get the wine.

“Now,” Paolo said, “where do you want us?”

Olivia took a look around the room and decided on the love seat.

Victor produced a sketch pad and professional pencils and pens that Olivia practically drooled over. “Will this work?” he asked.

“Um, yes,” she said with a smile.

“Do we need to stay still?” Paolo asked, excitement all but radiating from him. “I’ve never posed before.”

“Just be natural.” Olivia settled on the sofa across from them.

Cole stood behind her so he could watch but not be in her way.

“So how long have you owned the gallery?” Olivia asked as she began to draw.

The two men looked at each other. “Ten years?” Victor asked his partner.

“Eleven.”

“Yes, you’re right. I always forget. The gallery is Paolo’s baby. I’m just a silent partner.”

Paolo rolled his eyes. “Silent, my ass.”

They shared a laugh full of love and admiration. Cole had no doubt that Olivia would capture that.

“What do you do, Victor?” she asked.

“I manage the business end of the gallery to keep Paolo free to deal with the art side of the house. He’s the one with the real eye for talent.”

“I don’t know about that,” Paolo chimed in. “Who discovered Olivia Robison?”

“Well,” Victor said modestly, “I’ve picked up a few things from you over the years.”

Paolo, the more openly affectionate of the two, patted Victor’s knee. “He has a keen eye. Don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

“You won’t hear us arguing,” Cole said, and they laughed.

Marta came in with the wine as Olivia’s hand continued to fly over the crisp white page.

Victor poured three glasses of the ’92 merlot. Olivia had declined, and Cole smiled to himself when he realized she wasn’t drinking because she might be pregnant. “I also do some financial planning for a number of clients in town,” Victor said.

“He’s wildly successful,” Paolo said. “You’ll want him managing your money when we start raking it in.”

Olivia’s hand went still, and she looked up at him. “Raking it in?”

“My dear,” Paolo said with a big, charming smile, “I’m going to make you a ton of money.”

“Shall we drink to that?” Victor asked.

As he touched his glass to theirs, Cole looked down to find a dazed expression on Olivia’s face.