She was deflecting. The obvious response was to find out more about Sophia—to put their issues on the back burner, and move forward down a different path than the one they’d been on.

But she sat opposite him swamped in an oversized robe, beneath which she was naked. And they weren’t close to being over.

“I want a drink. Have you any alcohol?”

“There’s whiskey on the counter.”

Before she had a chance to move, he strode into the kitchen, found two glasses in a cabinet, and filled them with a couple of fingers of whiskey. Being away from her, even for a few minutes, gave him what he craved: the opportunity to see straight. To clear his head and evaluate what he wanted. She lied. She misled him. But hearing why, combined with his first-hand experience of the way Crystal operated, made her actions if not forgivable, explainable.

If he walked away now, or let her walk away, he’d always wonder what could have been. His response to her was soul deep and visceral. He had to follow this through.

He walked back to the sofa, placed a glass in her hand, and sat next to her. “Sophia isn’t the only unfinished business here. You and I have unfinished business too.”

She swallowed a mouthful of the potent liquor. “You said awful things to me. About the sort of person I am.”

He took the glass from her hand and placed it on the table. “Yes, I did.” He stroked a hand down her cheek, and she turned into his hand, welcoming the caress. “I had reason. You gave me reason to doubt you.”

Her lips parted a fraction.

“We’ve both been manipulated with the intention of breaking up what’s happening between us. But I don’t like to be fooled with. I won’t be.”

She chewed her bottom lip, “I couldn’t tell you.” She leaned closer. “I’m glad you now know the truth—I don’t want to lie to you anymore.” She stood up, and loosened the belt around her waist. Let the robe fall open to reveal her naked body. Then she reached for his hand. “Come back to bed.”

She turned. He stroked a hand across her shoulders, to the bumps of her spine, tracing down it to the curve of her hips, the globes of her ass. She trembled at his touch, leaned back against his body, and exhaled. Lowering his head, he breathed in the scent of her hair, felt the silken strands brush his face. His hands curved around her waist, holding her tight.

Then he twisted, caught her up in his arms, and headed for the stairs.

“Hey!” There was surprise on her face. “I can walk, you know.”

“Quiet down.” He gripped her tighter, and she burrowed her face into his chest, her whole body relaxing. This was way more satisfying, and way more efficient than following her naked body upstairs. He kicked open the bedroom door and dropped her onto the bed, smiling in satisfaction at the sight of her breasts bouncing.

Her hand moved to her breast as she laid against the pillows, watching him strip off his clothing. Arousal darkened her eyes, made her breathing erratic. For a long moment, he just stood there, watching her, feeling the pull, stretching out the moment before going to her. Then her fingers played with her nipple, and any thoughts of staying detached evaporated.

With a moan, he straddled her. Flattened his chest to hers, then slipped down her body to take the nipple in his mouth. She tasted faintly of vanilla, and as he flicked the hardened tip with his tongue, she wriggled beneath him. Then her hands were tangling in the strands of his hair, holding him close.

This was a dangerous game. Every taste, every touch, inflamed him further, made it impossible to stay objective. He stroked over her stomach, then down, easing her legs apart to cup his palm over her mound. She was wet, ready for him. He rubbed his middle finger forward and back, teasing with every touch.

Her legs flexed, and she pushed against his hand, silently demanding more.

He wanted to sink into her wet heat and lose himself completely. Was desperate to feel her tight walls clench around his cock. But before then, she needed to come. Gritting his teeth, he traced her clit with his thumb, and slipped a finger inside her.

“Jace, I want—”

He stole the rest of her words with an open-mouthed kiss, devouring her from the inside out, as he added another finger and felt her clench him instantly.

His cock brushed against her thigh, and when she curled her fingers around it, he damn near came there and then. She was on the pill, and the thought of taking her without the irritating layer of latex between their bodies was intoxicating. But he wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t do it. The thought of another woman becoming pregnant with his baby and not wanting it was too much of a risk.

He stepped off the bed, took a condom from his jeans, and sheathed himself. “Roll over and get on your knees.”

Her eyes widened at the demanding tone of his voice, but she did as he asked, pushing her bottom into the air. God, the sight of her, open and ready for him. He ran his palms over the firm globes and squeezed, then took his hard cock and rubbed it at her entrance.

Ally looked over her shoulder at him, emerald eyes dark and lips parted.

He gripped her hips, and pulled her onto his cock, feeling her inner walls grip him tight as their bodies became one. He wanted to go slow, had chosen this position because he thought he’d have more control if he wasn’t staring into her eyes as they fucked. Because he needed to make this experience more physical and less connected. But it didn’t work. The way she moved, the way she sighed, moaned, and cried his name had his body pumping faster and faster, slamming into her again and again, all finesse obliterated, all control gone.

She was so responsive to him, as wild and unrestrained as he remembered from their one night together. They fit together perfectly, and were so in synch that moments after she started to come, he was right there with her, feeling the sensations overtaking him harder, faster than ever.

“Fuck, Ally!” It was impossible to stay standing. He edged her sideways so as not to flatten her, then collapsed onto the bed, still buried in her warmth. He sank his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in her scent, feeling the soft, warm skin rise and fall beneath his lips.

* * *

Jace curled around her with one hand on her stomach. His breath was warm against her skin, and her bottom nestled into the cradle of his hips. They couldn’t be closer, and instead of the normal feeling that came over her in these situations, the urge to escape, she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d prefer to be at that moment.

What had Chris said before she left for Shepherd’s Crook? That she had rules. No staying over. No mushy stuff. No thinking this was going anywhere.

She yawned. The arm around her tightened, but in an instinctual way, rather than consciously. Jace’s breathing was slow and regular, and without looking, she could tell he had surrendered to sleep.

Rule one was shot to hell. She could wake him and boot him out of her bed, out of her temporary, rented home, but they had so little time together remaining, she wanted to experience every moment of it.

Rule two: No mushy stuff. He was asleep; he wouldn’t know how she was replaying their lovemaking in her head, luxuriating in the feel of his body holding her so tight.

Rule three: What harm could there be in imagining what it would be like to have this every night? To actually have someone to love, who would love her in return? Everyone is allowed a fantasy—a temporary escape from reality. The side of her that knew the truth—that everybody cheats, and there’s no such thing as happy ever after, was being suffocated by hippy-dippy, rose-tinted romantic daydreams that never afflicted her usually.

This is dangerous.

Screw it. If this is dangerous, bring it on.

Ally woke in a sunbeam. The sun streamed in through the half-open drapes, filling the room with light. She reached behind her, turned, flattened her palm against the cold indent Jace’s body had left in her bed. Where is he?

There was no sound from the bathroom. She climbed out of bed, and went to check. The shower stall was beaded with water drops, and a damp towel hung on the rack. Maybe he’d left. Her stomach hollowed at the thought. Was this how he felt when she disappeared on him after their first night together? At least she knew his name, his number, and where he lived. When she ran, she left him no way of finding her again. She’d left him nothing.

The realization was sobering.

She shoved her feet into slippers, tightened the belt of her robe and went into the kitchen.

Jace was seated at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading something on his phone. Her heart swelled in her chest, and for a moment she just stood in the doorway looking at him, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling within. Relief. Joy.

He looked up. “Hey.” His mouth curved into a smile. “You’re awake.”

How could she feel shy around him after last night? They’d woken a couple of times during the night, their bodies silently finding each other in the room’s inky darkness, and there was no way to describe their coupling apart from making love. Because it was more than fucking. More than the collision of two bodies for mutual satisfaction. Now, in the cold light of day, wrongfooted and unsure, words dried up in her throat.

“Come here.” Their gazes were locked, but he didn’t move, just waited.

Ally swallowed. “We should talk about finding this girl.”

“Not yet. Come here first.”

Slowly, she advanced toward him. When she was within touching distance, he snaked his hands around her waist. The heat of his palms through the thin silk, the way he stared into her eyes, made her antsy and nervous.

“Kiss me.”

She swiped her tongue over her lips.

“Kiss me,” he repeated. “I won’t bite, unless you want me to.”

“Last night was…”

Jace shook his head. Placed a finger on his lips.

Fine. She could kiss him without losing her mind, without losing herself in him again. Ally teased his lips with a featherlike caress.

His hands tightened, and his lips curved. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he murmured against her mouth, then he was kissing her back, increasing the intensity until they were once again whirled away into a land where being separate entities wasn’t possible.

Her hands were in his hair, digging into his scalp. It was hard to breathe, and all thoughts of coffee, of Sophia, receded in the overwhelming urge to get closer, skin to skin.

Fingers unfastened the ties at her waist, then the robe was open, and his hands were on her breasts. She arched into his palms, gasping at the sensation of her erect nipples brushing against him, tugged his T-shirt up, and stepped away a couple of inches to pull it off and throw it to the floor.

Could she ever get enough of this man?

Her fingers moved to his waist, unfastening his jeans with a haste born of desperation. She’d never fucked in a kitchen. Never been taken on a kitchen table, but it looked as though there was another first in her immediate future, as he cleared a space and lifted her to the smooth pine surface.

His mouth was on her breast. His tongue circled her nipple, then he drew her into his mouth and sucked hard, causing her inner muscles to clench and moisture to flood her pussy.

She was ready, so ready.

He retrieved a condom from his pocket, shoved down the jeans and boxers, and lunged into her in one quick move.

Ally lay back onto the table, her legs gripped around him, and she cried out as he moved fast and frantic. There was no foreplay, no need for any; she was so wet for him she couldn’t even think straight. With every thrust, her inner muscles clenched around him. The brush of his pelvis on her clit so delicious she couldn’t hold back the moans and gasps that had to escape. Heat rolled through her, head to toe. She stared into his eyes, watching the change come over his face as he started to come. A series of unfamiliar emotions slammed into her, pride, that she was responsible for this man losing his control so thoroughly. Possessiveness, an alien acknowledgment that he was her man, and she his woman. Warmth, longing, love.

The last emotion should give her pause, but she was too far gone, too incredibly overcome to fully process her reaction to it. Instead, she held on to him for dear life, as her body spasmed, and he collapsed onto her, chest to chest as his orgasm followed hers, and they found nirvana together.

* * *

Jace’s face was buried in the soft curve of Ally’s neck where it met the shoulder. His parted lips rested on her skin. The rise and fall of her body slowed as she came back to herself. With every breath, he inhaled her scent, and just as ever, it went to his head, intoxicated him. Warm, fragrant, undeniably Ally. Her soft hair tickled his face, and he pressed a kiss there, feeling her move her head to the side closer to him like a cat angling up to its human’s hand. He was squashing her, he had to be. And the kitchen table was hard and unyielding, it couldn’t be comfortable. He smoothed a hand over her hair, lifted himself a fraction so he could look into her face.

She smiled. “Good morning.”

“That’s how we should greet each other in the morning.” Every morning. But how many mornings did they have left? He could tell the same thought was running through her mind because her face changed, the smile dimmed, and her eyes closed as if she were committing this moment to memory.

He stood, pulled on his boxers and jeans, and fastened them. Then took her hand, and helped her up to sitting. “I’ll put on some coffee.”

“I’ll be back in a minute.” She scooted off the table, holding the silky robe closed with one hand.

Alone again, he stared out of the window at the rented house’s back yard. Sex on the kitchen table. Another first. And an experience they’d have little chance of repeating. The day after tomorrow, Rory would be back home, and this, whatever this is, would be over.

The tiny garden was neat and trimmed. Someone must have cut the grass in the last few days.

Unlike his own yard, which he’d neglected since Ally showed up. Back home, his grass was overlong, and the tire hanging from the old oak was motionless without Rory sprawling on it. There’d never been a time when a woman had been part of their picture, part of their present. Rory’s mother hadn’t even been to the house they lived in now. He hadn’t been a monk, but any time he slept with anyone it was somewhere other than the home he shared with his son.

He’d even been reticent to share his home with Crystal, the woman he’d been considering marrying.

He wanted Ally to meet Rory. Their previous meeting didn’t count, although it was the meeting that had brought her to him. For the first time, he wanted to introduce her to Rory as the woman who meant something to him. As his girlfriend.

He washed out the french press and loaded it with fresh grounds.

Rory was becoming a man. They were both moving into a new phase in their relationship; they were both growing up. Once, the presence of his son meant that no woman could be in their house. Now, he wanted to be able to sleep with her in his bed with Rory’s blessing and understanding. He wanted them to be a family.

The thought struck so hard he had to sit down. He wanted her to be in his family. He loved her.

When had that happened? How had Ally’s presence in his life become not just fantastic, but vital?

Her life was in Seattle, and there was no way he could up and leave his home to be with her. This arrangement had been a temporary thing, a stolen week. She’d left before without a glance back, and he didn’t know how she felt about him, whether she felt the same gut-wrenching ache at the thought of their parting.

There would be challenges ahead—heck, it wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time in years, he knew exactly what he wanted. Who he wanted. And he wouldn’t let this chance of happiness walk out the door without at least letting her know how much he wanted to keep her.

“Hey, where’s my coffee?”

She stood in the doorway, fully dressed, with her hair damp from the shower. Sunshine picked up the red glints in her hair as she walked over, not reticent and worried like before, but confidently, with a purpose in mind.

She walked up to him, and snaked her arms around his waist. “I want breakfast.” She pouted, grinned, and pressed her lips to his. “And this time I’m talking actual food.”