"It's not fair."

Ethan pushed up on his elbows and looked at her over his shoulder. "What's not fair?"

Shivers danced across her skin at the sight of his crooked smile. Oh, who was she kidding? The shivers had nothing to do with the adorable grin and everything to do with the expanse of warm hard flesh beneath her palms.

She squeezed more sunscreen into her hands and went back to rubbing it over his back. "How tanned you got already. I mean, look at me! I'm still all pink. And peeling. It's not fair."

"Would it help if I said you looked cute that way?"

Cindy reached behind her and swatted his thigh with one hand. "No, because I know better. Peeling isn't cute. And neither is being pink. Or burnt."

Ethan shifted beneath her, rolling to his back so she was now straddling his lap instead of his nice firm ass. His hands closed over her thighs, holding her in place as he gently lifted his hips against hers. The hard length of his erection pressed into her. More shivers danced across her skin, followed by a sweeping wave of desire that made her eyes drift shut.

"Now do you believe me?" Ethan's voice was thick with desire, soft and low in the humid air surrounding them. Cindy swallowed back a groan, told herself she absolutely could not peel his swimming trunks down and ride him. Not now, not here, on the beach in the middle of the day.

She forced her eyes open and bit down on her lower lip as she looked around. The beach wasn't crowded but they definitely weren't alone. For a brief second, she considered moving to the large cabana lounge they had been in a few nights ago—their first night together. Maybe with the side panels closed…

Oh God, what was with her? She'd never been that brazen before. Never. But she'd also never felt so alive before. These past few days with Ethan had completely erased the odd detachment that had been plaguing her the last few months. The darkness didn't hover by her side, ready to swallow her. The grayness didn't follow her wherever she went. Not anymore. She was feeling again, all thanks to these last few days.

The sun. The water. The fresh air. The islands themselves. But most of all because of Ethan.

His hands tightened around her thighs as he lifted his hips against her once more. Did he know what she was thinking? Cindy looked down at him, her heart speeding up at the desire so clear in his eyes.

"We could always go back to the room." The invitation was issued in a husky whisper, low enough so only she could hear. And even though it was phrased as a suggestion, she didn't miss the question in it. Like he wasn't quite certain of her answer, like he couldn't quite believe what was happening between them.

Neither could she. With Ethan, of all people. She leaned down, ready to tell him yes, ready to tell him she didn't want to be anywhere else. But the sounds of laughter and teasing broke out a few feet away and she looked up, swallowing back a groan of dismay when she saw several of Ethan's teammates making their way toward them across the beach.

She scrambled from his lap and dropped into her own lounge chair with a whimper of dismay. Ethan glanced at her then looked to his left. He muttered a string of oaths and quickly rolled to his stomach with a muffled groan.

"Aren't you two tired of the beach already?"

"Yeah. All this lazing around is starting to make me antsy."

Cindy pulled the sunglasses over her eyes and reached for her book, ready to open it in case she needed the distraction. But her gaze wasn't on the book, it was on Ethan's teammates.

Brad Goodrich, one of the Banners' goalies. Corbin Gauthier, the team's other goalie. And John Murdoch, one of the defensemen.

She didn't really know them, at least not well. She'd joined them on some of the excursions this week. They all seemed nice enough. At least, they were friendly to her, not questioning why she was suddenly accompanying them. But she didn't miss their questioning glances and she knew they were trying to figure out exactly what was going on between Ethan and her. They knew they were friends. Did they know they were more than friends?

The first chilled finger of reality crept along her spine, leaving a trail of numbness in its wake. No. No, not now. She was only imagining it. She wouldn't allow the numbness to return. Not now, not after this week, not after finally coming back to life.

Maybe it wasn't the numbness. Maybe it was just the uncertainty the question posed. Were they more than friends? She glanced at Ethan, felt her heart trip in her chest as another wave of numbness attacked her.

Cindy didn't know the answer to that question. Friends, yes. Definitely. Friends with benefits even. Especially after this week. But what about when they returned home? What would happen then? Ethan didn't live in Maryland, not in the off-season. He'd be going back home to Minnesota until it was time to return for training camp. When was that? Not for another month, she thought. What would happen then? They'd talk on the phone, just like always. She was sure of that much. But what then? And what about when he came back to Baltimore when the season started? Would they pick up where this week ended, or go back to the way they were?

And oh God, what was she doing? She was getting ahead of herself. So far ahead. Thinking of things that she had no business thinking. And all because she could feel the numbness trying to creep in on her, saw the darkness at her side and knew it was trying to surround her. Cloak her in its icy detachment. Dammit, she didn't need that. She didn't want it. Not now. Not here. Not yet.

Not ever.

She sucked in a deep breath of humid air, trying to calm herself, trying to stop the sudden panic clawing at her skin. She glanced over, saw Ethan watching her.

Not just Ethan. His teammates as well.

"Are you okay?"

"What?" She pulled her gaze away from his teammates and looked at Ethan, noticed the concern in his eyes as he leaned toward her. His placed his hand on her arm, his touch warm and comforting against her skin. The icy numbness and panic receded, leaving her shaken and confused. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

Ethan tightened his hand around her arm, squeezing gently. "Are you sure? You got real pale there for a second."

She forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah. I just got a chill, that's all."

"You're not getting sick, are you?"

"No, I'm fine. Probably just too much sun."

Ethan didn't look like he believed her so she forced another smile to her face, hoping this one looked more convincing. He was ready to say something, ready to question her or probably call her out for lying, but one of his teammates spoke first.

"All the more reason for you guys to stop lazing in the sun and join us."

Cindy moved her gaze from Ethan to John, wondering what she had missed. They had obviously been talking about going somewhere. Had she been that distracted, that out of it, that she had completely missed their entire conversation? Yes, she had.

She smiled, this one feeling a little less forced, and turned back to Ethan. "Why don't you go? I'll just go back to the room and take a nap."

"I don't think—"

"Come on, Kincaid. It's our last day on the island. Time to kick it up a notch." Brad looked at her then cleared his throat, a small blush fanning his tanned cheeks. "Um, rated PG, of course. And suited for mixed company."

"You guys go ahead. We're staying here."

"Ethan—"

He turned and looked at her, his blue eyes blazing with steely determination. "We're staying here."

"You sure?" The question came from Corbin, the words softly accented. Cindy got the impression he was asking more from politeness, as if he already knew the answer. Ethan turned and nodded.

"Yeah, positive. You guys go, we'll catch up for dinner." Ethan waited for them to leave then turned back to her, his brows pulled low over his eyes. He watched her for a long minute, his gaze focused and intense, refusing to let her look away. She recognized that expression, had seen it dozens of times when he was on the ice, playing. It was more than a little disconcerting to have it focused on her.

"You should have gone—"

"What happened?"

"What?"

"Don't play games, Cindy. I know you too well. What just happened?" He leaned closer, cupped her cheek with his hand. "You looked—I don't know, terrified or something. What was that all about?"

She tried to meet his gaze, to not look away, but she couldn't. Maybe he wouldn't be able to tell since she was wearing sunglasses. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?"

The question hung between them. Cindy shifted, pulled her lower lip between her teeth and wondered if she should tell him. But tell him what? She didn't know what was going on with her. How could she explain it to him when she didn't understand it herself?

She released a long sigh and shifted on the lounge. "Yes, you are. I told you, it's probably just too much sun."

He watched her for a few long seconds, his expression oddly unreadable. Then he quickly stood, pulling her up with him. He kept his hand wrapped around her arm as he bent down to grab the beach tote, then slung it over his shoulder. The bright pink-and-white striped canvas bag should have made him look silly but it didn't. Instead, it made him look even sexier, accenting the width of his shoulders and the broad expanse of his sculpted chest. Another shiver went through her, one that had nothing to do with icy numbness or panic.

If he noticed, he didn't say anything. He slid his hand down her arm and grabbed her hand, threading their fingers together as they walked the short distance back to his small cottage. Cold air swept over them as they walked through the sliding doors, making her skin pebble. Ethan muttered under his breath and dropped her hand, moving across the room to adjust the thermostat. He gave her a sheepish grin then dropped the beach tote on the sofa.

"Sorry. I didn't realize I had it set so low."

Cindy smiled, tempted to tell him it wasn't any colder than what he usually set it at. But she didn't get the chance because he was standing in front of her again, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. She pushed up on her toes, ready for the kiss she was so certain was coming.

Ethan didn't kiss her. His gaze focused on hers, too intent. Studying, watching. "Tell me what's going on."

Cindy stiffened and tried to pull away, then immediately regretted the action. It was the wrong thing to do if she wanted him to believe that everything was fine. It was the wrong thing to do if she wanted to avoid having this conversation.

"Nothing's going on."

He watched her for a few quiet seconds then released her from his hold. He grabbed her hand and tugged, leading her to the sofa. His grip was gentle but strong. Warm and comforting. Ethan shifted, turning so they were facing each other, then stretched his arm along the back of the sofa.

"You know I know when you're lying, right? I haven't brought it up all week but now it's time to come clean. What's going on?"

"Ethan, honest. It's nothing—"

"Why aren't you going back to school? And what did you mean when you said you wanted to feel? That isn't 'nothing'. Talk to me."

How could he remember that? True, it had only been several days, but so much else had happened in that time. And she had said the words in passing, only once, the night of the wedding. Why was he bringing it up now? It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. Not to him. So why was he asking?

She dropped her gaze to their clasped hands. Hers, small and a little pale. His, so large and strong, the flesh firm and tanned. She had teased him once, right after they first met, telling him he had farmer's hands. And he laughed and said she was right, that he had grown up on a farm and was used to hard work. Looking at them now, she knew they were so much more. Yes, his hands were strong, calloused. Used to physical labor. But she had seen how skillfully they held a stick on the ice, how they could make the stick work magic when he handled a puck. And she had felt how gentle they could be against her body, how they wielded a different kind of magic when they touched her.

He squeezed her hand, drawing her gaze up to his. "Talk to me, Cindy. What's going on? Why aren't you going back to school?"

"I just—" She stopped, looked away, chewed on her lower lip. Then she took a deep breath, searching for courage. "I changed my mind. I don't want to study psychology anymore. I don't want to spend my life listening to other people's problems, solving other people's problems."

Not when she couldn't solve her own.

But she didn't say that out loud, not when it would only make Ethan ask more questions. Questions she didn't want to answer. Questions she didn't have answers to.

He was quiet for a long minute. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, knew that if she looked up, she would find those smoky blue eyes focused on her. Watching, searching. Studying. Seeing too much.

She didn't want that. Not now. This was their last day here on the island. Their last day before reality reared its ugly head and thrust her back into…whatever was waiting for her. She wanted one last day to feel. One last night to spend with him.

Cindy stopped thinking, stopped worrying. All she wanted was to feel. To lose herself in Ethan's touch, to lose herself in the weight of his body against hers. She shifted on the sofa, forced a smile to her face as she moved to straddle him.

His eyes widened, desire flaring in their depths as she tilted her hips against his. She wrapped her hands around his neck and smiled again, this one real, when his hands closed around her hips and held her in place against the hard length of his erection.

She pressed her mouth against his, the kiss short and teasing. "How about we pick this conversation up later?"

"Cindy—"

She stopped him with another kiss, this one longer. Deeper. He groaned against her mouth and swept his tongue between her parted lips. A thousand shivers of delight raked across her skin, pushing all thoughts and worries from her mind. This was what she wanted. What she needed. Ethan's touch. Ethan's kiss.

Ethan. All of him.

She melted against him, surrendering control.

Surrendering her body to nothing but sensation.