You don't matter. You never did.

Beth Fuller stood inside the foyer of the restaurant and forced the nagging voice from her mind. Did her hesitation show on her face? Is that why the hostess kept tossing those judging glances her way? Probably. Beth wanted to pretend she didn't notice them; wanted to pretend they didn't matter.

But they did. Oh, how they mattered. They mattered more than she'd ever admit out loud.

You're only good for one thing. Haven't you figured that out yet? And you're not even any good at that!

Had he been right? Was she only good for one thing, one thing she wasn't good at? No, he was wrong. And if he wasn't—so what? She happened to like that one thing. And she happened to miss that one thing—missed it more than she thought she would. Nine months. Nine long, dry months, without even a single prospect.

Was she wrong for coming here tonight? Wrong for wanting a touch, a kiss? Wrong for wanting to feel? Well, too bad. She did miss it, and she was tired of waiting for any potential prospects to come to her. It was time to take matters into her own hands.

Well, okay, time to do a little more than that, since her own hand wasn't really cutting it anymore. Not that she had anything against self-gratification—she didn't.

She just wanted more.

So she'd done some research and looked into a few online dating sites. Except she didn't want to date. Beth had had enough of dating, enough of commitment. She just wanted to have fun. If she'd been a guy, it wouldn't have been an issue—just go to a bar somewhere, strike up a conversation, buy a few drinks, and have her itch taken care of.

Except she wasn't a guy and there were safety considerations to think of—considerations that went beyond safe sex. So picking up some random stranger in a bar was out of the question. At least for her.

Was this really any different?

She pushed the voice—her own, this time—away. Yes, this was different. This wasn't a random pick-up. Not really. She'd chatted some with the guy she was supposed to meet. She'd seen his picture. At least, she thought it was his picture. She wouldn't know for sure until she actually met him.

And she would never meet him if she didn't move from the entranceway and head into the restaurant. To actually meet him. In person.

Doubt filled her once more and she ruthlessly pushed it away. The time for doubt was gone. Now it was time for action.

She pulled in a deep, bracing breath and smoothed one hand along her skirt. The hostess gave her another judging look but Beth ignored it and sailed right past her. Confidence was everything. She needed to remember that: walk with her head high, a small smile on her lips, her shoulders back.

Walk with an attitude that screamed she was confident and self-assured and filled with purpose. She could do this, she knew she could.

Some of her confidence drained away when she reached the bar area off to the side of the restaurant. Her gaze skimmed the patrons sitting on the leather-covered stools surrounding the varnished bar. Not a single one of them looked familiar. That meant he'd either sent a picture that wasn't his—

Or he wasn't here.

Disappointment filled her as quickly as her confidence fled. Had she really thought she could do this? Had she really thought she could attract the attention of someone who looked like the guy she'd met online?

Isn't that what I told you? Worthless, only good for one thing—

Beth clenched her jaw and told the deep voice to get lost. She certainly didn't need him coming into her mind and flaming her biggest fears. She'd been free of him for nine months, she wasn't about to let him come back now, not after all this time.

That didn't stop the disappointment though, or the self-doubt. Had she really expected her online date to show up?

Yes, she had. Even if this wasn't a date. The online site she'd recently discovered had been for meeting people, but not for dating. It was a hook-up site, more of a chatroom, really. Nothing more than that.

So she shouldn't be disappointed. A lot of things could have happened. Maybe she'd just been played. Maybe the guy wasn't interested at all.

Maybe he'd found someone better looking—

Stop.

So tonight hadn't worked out. No big deal. It didn't mean anything. She could try again tomorrow, or next week. And in the meantime, she'd just go home and do what she always did—satisfy herself. She didn't have to worry about small talk, didn't have to worry about shaving her legs. Didn't have to worry about any mess—

"Beth?" The voice was deliciously deep and soft and warm. And hesitant. She spun around then had to force herself not to jump up and down and scream with excited glee.

It was him. He was actually here! And he looked even more delicious in person.

Tall—tall enough that she had to tilt her head back to really look at him, which meant he was maybe an inch over six feet since she was wearing heels. And his eyes. Oh wow. The picture hadn't even come close to doing his eyes justice: deep, dark blue. So dark they were almost black in the dim light. Blonde hair, darker than the color of sand, framed a face with high cheekbones and a rugged jaw. His hair was thick, a little shaggy, and looked like it might have a tendency to curl. He reminded her of a sun-loving surfer, or maybe even a beach boy.

Except he was no boy. No, he was definitely all man.

Her fingers itched with the desire to run through that hair, to see if it was as thick and soft as it looked. To run along the open V of the blue dress shirt and play with the tiniest patch of darker hair adorning the tanned flesh of his broad chest. To trace the buttons of that shirt down to where they disappeared into the waistband of his dark gray slacks.

But she couldn't do any of that. She could barely get her tongue unstuck from the roof of her mouth.

"Beth?" He repeated her name, the question in his voice even more pronounced, more uncertain. She finally nodded, tried to say yes only it came out as a pathetic little stammer. He either didn't notice, or he was too polite to say anything about it. A small smile tilted the corners of his mouth and he stuck out his hand.

"I'm Adam."

Oh, good Lord, no wonder Eve fell into sin.

Beth blinked, worried that maybe she had said that out loud. But no, she must not have because Adam was still standing there, smiling down at her, his hand still outstretched.

She reached for it, felt his fingers close over hers in a firm yet gentle shake. Strong, confident, his skin warm and slightly calloused—not limp and slimy like some handshakes she received. The callouses reassured her for some reason, made him seem more real. It was a stupid thing to think, with no basis in anything but fantasy.

That didn't make it any less true.

And it didn't stop the nerves that had been doing somersaults in her stomach all day. The man in front of her, smiling down at her as his thumb stroked the back of her hand, was gorgeous. Not quite an Adonis—no, better than an Adonis. And he wanted to meet up with her? But why?

Beth almost asked him, almost blurted out the damning word that would expose her lack of confidence with three little letters. She didn't get the chance because Adam released her hand and gently took hold of her elbow.

"Would you like to get a drink? Talk a little?"

Beth nodded then realized he was already leading them toward the bar, his hand a gentle weight in the middle of her back. And he was steering her to a small high top table in the corner, away from the scattered crowd sitting around the bar.

He held the chair out for her then helped her into it, since she had to kind of climb up on it—not the easiest thing to do while wearing a skirt and heels. He waved to one of the servers then leaned across the table, those dark blue eyes totally focused on her.

"What would you like?"

You, naked and on top of me.

Beth swallowed back the words and let her own smile break free. "A white wine?" Maybe the wine would relax her, help her feel not quite so...tense. Or worried. Or nervous.

Adam nodded then turned to give the server their order: a white wine for her, a beer for him.

And then they were alone again and Beth had no idea what to say or how to act. Cool and nonchalant, like she'd done this kind of thing before? If only it were that easy! But she'd never done this kind of thing before and had no idea how to act or what to expect.

Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely true. She knew—mostly—what to expect. They were here to hook-up, in the truest sense of the word. They were meeting to have sex, nothing more than that.

So yeah, she knew what to expect—later. She just had no idea what to do between now and then.

"Your picture doesn't do you justice."

"Are you kidding me?" As soon as the disbelieving words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. She was trying to act confident. Smooth. Worldly. Blurting out disbelief in a dryly humorous voice wasn't part of the plan.

But maybe Adam found it humorous because he chuckled, the sound warm and rich and doing dangerous things to her insides.

"No, I'm pretty serious. Your picture was nice but the in-person version is nicer. Your hair is darker. And your eyes are stunning. I can't quite figure out what color they are."

"Oh. They're ha—"

"No, don't tell me. I want to study them later by candlelight, see if I can figure it out."

And okay, wow. Blood surged through her at his words, heating her, stirring to life an aching need and desire that had been suppressed for too long. Simple words, not even what she would call exceptionally charming. Considering what they were going to do in a little bit, they were even unnecessary. That didn't stop her body's reaction to them.

The server showed up with their drinks, stopping her from having to reply—which was a good thing because Beth had no idea what to say. Adam's words had left her...flustered. Yes, that was as good a word as any.

She took a sip of wine, trying to hide her flush behind the glass. Adam held the bottle of beer between his large hands, spinning it slowly between his palms. But he wasn't looking at the beer, he was looking at her, watching her with those deep blue eyes.

"So tell me a little about yourself, Beth."

Her face heated again, just at the sound of her name wrapped in his velvety voice. She took another small sip of wine then placed the glass on the table in front of her. Was he merely making small talk? Or was he honestly curious? She didn't understand what his motivation was. They were here for sex. Sex—and nothing more, right? She hadn't really expected the drinks, even if they had agreed to meet at the restaurant attached to the hotel. Beth had figured it was merely a matter of convenience. Or maybe just a matter of appearances because wouldn't it look tacky to just go straight up to the room and get down to business?

But what did she know? She'd never done anything like this before so maybe this was how things were done.

"Well, I work as a hairdresser up in York. I like reading but I don't have as much time for it as I'd like."

"What kind of books do you like?"

"Mystery. Some horror. And romance, of course."

Adam's lips curled into a small smile. "Horror and romance? Not together, I hope."

Beth laughed, the sound soft and breathy. "No, not together. How about you? Do you like to read?"

"I'm more into movies. Action and adventure, comedies, things like that. When I read, it's more for work. Manuals and procedurals. Boring stuff."

"What kind of manuals?"

Adam shrugged, the motion almost embarrassed somehow, and looked down at the bottle in his hand. "Building construction. Fire protection. Things like that."

"For work? What do you do?"

He took a quick swig of beer then offered her another embarrassed shrug. "I'm a firefighter."

Beth's gaze dropped to the table. Heat filled her face when she realized she was trying to look below his waist. At least a dozen comments sprung to mind, all of them relating to things he might be able to do with his hose. And oh God, how cliché and pitiful was that? She forced her gaze back to his, saw the way he was watching her with those deep eyes. Another smile teased the corners of his mouth, like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Yeah. I'm pretty good at handling my hose. And there's never been a fire I haven't been able to put out."

Oh, my.

Beth reached for her wine glass, nearly knocked it over before her shaking fingers finally wrapped around the slender stem. Need flared to life, filling her with a heat that scorched every nerve ending. She pressed her thighs together, trying to still the wet heat growing between her legs. There were so many things she wanted to say but she couldn't get the words out. Probably a good thing, because none of them were appropriate.

Or maybe they were, if the way Adam was watching her meant anything. Like she was the most desirable creature he'd ever seen. Like he couldn't wait to be alone with her. Like he was more than willing to extinguish the fire raging inside her—but only after it had burned her to a crisp.

The danger of her situation crystallized with each second his gaze held hers. Not the danger of what she was doing by meeting a complete stranger for sex—no, she'd always been aware of that. And even though she shouldn't, even though she knew there was no logical reason for it, she somehow sensed she was safe with Adam.

At least, physically.

The danger lie elsewhere. She knew, with as much certainty as she'd ever known anything before, that she wouldn't be able to hide from Adam. That if she went upstairs with him, he wouldn't be satisfied until he'd stripped her down to her bare soul.

Just as she knew that he'd give her the same. That she would be with him, in so many more ways than just physically.

At least for tonight. For as long as they were together—tonight. A few hours, maybe longer. Maybe even until morning's light. But no more than that.

Never more than that.

Could she do it? Could she allow herself to be laid bare for even that short amount of time?

Her mouth dried and her pulse raced—not from fear, but from excitement. Her skin prickled with awareness, every molecule of her being springing to life with heady anticipation. She wanted to feel his body against hers. No, this was much more than want. She needed to feel it, as much as she needed to breathe.

It made no sense. She knew that. Just like she knew that the hindsight that came with morning might paint an entirely different picture. But Beth didn't care. Not now, not after the last nine months. Yes, she might regret all of this come morning.

But she didn't care.

She drained her wine and carefully placed the empty glass on the table. Adam's intense gaze remained focused on her as she carefully slid out of the chair and moved to stand next to him. She reached out and placed one trembling hand on his arm.

"Never, hm? Then I think you're definitely the right man for the job."