“Come here, Jenny.”

I eyed Dylan from across the room. He’d been quiet ever since we’d finished dinner and left the restaurant. Quiet but vibrating with energy… or maybe tension? I wasn’t sure.

At every opportunity tonight, he’d touched me. A hand on my leg at dinner, his fingers brushing my back as we’d walked out of the restaurant, playing with my hair on the way back to his place. I’d also caught him watching me, his eyes dark and hungry. My girl parts were humming so loud it was amazing he couldn’t hear their mating song.

For some reason, though, I felt like playing hard to get. So I turned my back on him, got a glass from the cabinet, and filled it with ice and water.

“Jenny.”

“Mmm?” I didn’t turn around.

“Come. Here.”

Okay, I turned around. How could I not when his hot command sent the humming to a full-blown singing choir now living in the region below my stomach? He was shirtless, perched on the arm of his sofa. My sight landed on his chest, and I choked on the water I’d just drunk. A million years from now, I doubted I’d ever tire of looking at those broad shoulders and that dusting of dark brown hair above both his nipples.

A knowing smile crossed his face. “Come to me, Jenny.”

Like a woman tranced by a supernatural, I went to him. He spread his legs, and I walked right between them. I’d never given up all of me to another man before, but for tonight, Dylan had from me what no other man ever had.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice not much more than a whisper.

“I want to be bad.”

He chuckled. “And you’re going to be a very bad, bad girl. Take off your shirt.”

This man. Oh God, this man. I was lost in his hungry eyes, in the feel of his hands sliding up my thighs, in his heat and masculine scent. I was lost, and I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to find my way again. When I had my T-shirt lifted halfway up, he brushed my hands away and took over. He tossed the shirt over his shoulder.

“Beautiful,” he said right before he latched his mouth onto my breast.

Hallelujah, my hundred-member choir sang, their joyful voices filling my ears. My knees buckled when he bit my nipple, sending lava-hot fire through my bloodstream. He wrapped an arm around my thighs, and with only the strength in that arm, held me up. His mouth moved to my other breast, and okay, he’d not even reached the mother lode and I was ready to die a happy woman.

“Dylan,” I said. It was a whisper of my need for him, a plea for more. Without warning, he stood, scooping me up as he rose. I buried my face against his neck, inhaling his essence into my lungs as he carried me to his bed. Someday when I stood on a beach in Greece or Italy or Monaco, wishing he were with me, I wanted to remember everything about him.

He lowered me, then stood at the edge of the mattress, staring down at me with those eyes that seemed to want to eat me up. “All I thought about during dinner, Red, was you and me in my bed.”

“I kind of got that.”

He sat next to me. “Did you?”

“Yeah. The way you kept looking at me, like I was your favorite dessert.”

“Go on.” He put his hand on my knee, wrapping his strong fingers around it.

“That gave you away. A choir of needy singers took up residence…” I pointed down there. “They’re feeling kind of achy.”

He stared at me in confusion for a second, and then he smiled. His smile morphed into laughter. He fell onto the bed, his body parallel to mine. “Christ, Jenny Girl, no wonder I lo—” His mouth snapped shut.

I froze. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Please don’t say it, Dylan. I had plans. I would leave him. Love couldn’t happen between us.

“That I love how your mind works.”

Air escaped my lungs, relieved that he wasn’t in love with me. So why did I want to cry? I told my mouth to smile and it did. “My mind is a thing of mystery.”

“Mysterious is hot,” he said. “You’re hot. That goes for your mind and those needy singers. What exactly do they need? This?” He skimmed his fingers up to the hem of the boxer shorts I’d put on after my shower.

“You’re getting warm.”

“Ah, that’s good intel.” He tugged on my shorts. “I think these need to come off.”

My gaze focused on his chest while I lifted my bottom so he could slide the boxers off. Unable to resist, I reached my hand out to touch his stomach. My fingers slid over skin that was both firm and soft. He let out a breath when I reached a nipple and flicked my fingernail across it.

He leaned over me, stopping when his face was only inches from mine. Our gazes locked on each other, and then he lowered his mouth to mine. His tongue pressed against the seam of my lips, and I parted my mouth, inviting him in. My hips involuntarily bucked when he slid a finger inside me. I softly moaned against his lips. He toyed with me, bringing me to a trembling mass. Just when I thought I would step off the cliff, he removed his finger. I squeezed my legs together, trying to hold on to his hand.

“Not yet, Jenny Girl.” He stood, slipping his pants over his hips, letting them pool at his feet.

He was magnificent. Jaw-dropping, mouthwatering, just plain crazy hot. The sex lines on his hips caught my eyes, and I lifted my hand to trace one. He stilled, watching me with that intense focus of his. Maybe it was a cop thing, the way he could zero in on his target, seeing nothing else. The only thing on his mind right now was me, and I loved that about him.

His skin quivered under my touch, one side of his mouth curved up in a wicked half smile, and raw hunger shimmered in his eyes, so dark now they were almost black. He’d always been attentive, his attention on me and only me, when we were in bed together, but tonight felt different. As if something had changed between us, gotten more serious. A part of me that I couldn’t suppress wanted that kind of relationship with him, but I couldn’t break my promise to Natalie.

“Where’s your mind right now, Red?”

I blinked, pushing away the doubts I’d been having lately. Nothing had changed. Thinking it had was only my imagination working overtime. “My mind is wondering why you’re not in this bed with me.”

He grinned as he slid next to me. “Let me show you where my mind is, beautiful girl.”

“Yes, please.” He put his thumb on my bottom lip, and keeping my eyes on his, I sucked it into my mouth. I wished I could take a picture of him right now to keep with me. In some country, on some night when I was missing him—because I knew that was going to happen—I’d take it out and remember how he watched me, his eyes all soft and hungry for me.

“You’re killing me, looking at me like that,” he whispered into my ear.

“I don’t think I’ve ever killed a man before just by looking at him, but I’m sure going to try to render you comatose tonight.” I slid my hand down his chest, past his stomach, to his hard shaft, and wrapped it around him. He groaned right before his mouth crashed down on mine.

Hours later I lay on my side, watching Dylan sleep. I wanted to memorize everything about him. How the tension lines next to his eyes had disappeared, making him look younger. How his mouth was slightly parted, his full lips one of my favorite features. They were lips that begged a girl to kiss them. I smiled, thinking that I pretty much had rendered him comatose.

After the way we’d gone at it, I should be worn-out and sound asleep, but my eyes were wide open and my brain was going to short circuit. As soon as Autumn and Brian were married, I’d get on a plane and leave. Nothing and no one was going to get in the way of that happening. Not even Dylan. And that was my problem.

My heart was trying to fall for him, and I had to put a stop to that. This trip wasn’t just about me. It was also my promise to my sister on her deathbed to make our shared dream come true. Somewhere on some foreign beach, she was waiting for me. If I fell in love with Dylan, I wouldn’t be able to leave him. My gaze traveled over him. He had the cover pushed down to a few inches below his waist. I hovered my hand over his chest, wanting to feel him against my palm. Instead I pulled away, afraid I’d wake him.

I didn’t know what to do. Stop seeing him altogether, or at the very least, slow things down. Not spend every night at his place like I’d fallen into the habit of doing. If I put some distance between us, I could better protect my heart, which even now screamed in protest at this idea. I needed time to think, and I couldn’t do that here, lying next to him.

There had been something desperate in the way his eyes had locked on me as his body covered mine, almost like he was memorizing me. Was he already thinking of my departure? For the first time since I’d had this dream to travel the world, I wasn’t bouncing in my seat, raring to go.

As quietly as possible, I slipped out of bed, grabbed my camisole and boxers, and then made my way to the living room. After slipping on my clothes, I sat on the sofa, wrapping the afghan Dylan kept on the arm around me. Moonlight came in through the glass doors, enough that I could easily see my surroundings. Dylan’s owl hooted in the distance, and I was even going to miss hearing him.

“You can’t sleep either?” I asked Daisy when she padded into the room, sitting at my feet. She whined. “Ah, you think I should have stayed in bed with your daddy? Is that it?”

She put her chin on my knee, staring up at me with those soulful brown eyes. “I don’t know what to do,” I confided to her as tears fell down my cheeks.

I scratched her nose, and she crawled onto my lap even though she knew she wasn’t supposed to be on the sofa. It was as if she understood that offering her doggy love was more important than furniture rules. Or maybe she just didn’t like tears. I didn’t like them either, but they always came when I thought of Natalie. God, I missed her with an ache that would never go away.

“I can’t break my promise to my sister, Daisy. Tell me you get that.”