Marty couldn't sleep. She didn't know if it was because she was in a strange bed or because she was caught up in thoughts of what tomorrow would bring, or if it was because…she was hungry. Yep, that's what the problem was. Her stomach grumbled in agreement.

She glanced at the clock. It was one in the morning. Surely she could slip downstairs and raid the refrigerator without getting caught. She hoped so because all she had to wear was this big t-shirt Jake had lent her to sleep in.

She got out of bed and pulled the hem of her shirt down. It came nearly to her knees, so she was decently covered for her trip to the kitchen. She slipped her feet into her flip-flops and padded down the stairs.

She had her nose stuck in the fridge examining the contents when she got the strange feeling she was being watched. She turned her head slowly without straightening up and spotted Jake standing behind her.

"Great minds think alike I guess." He flashed a grin at her. "I'm hungry, too."

"I'm sorry." She gasped and stood up, tugging at her shirt. "I didn't have any supper." She thought about the forgotten soup in the microwave in Big Red. It was history now.

"How about one of my famous Stryker BLT sandwiches?"

"Oh, so he cooks, too, does he?"

"But of course, Madam. Have a seat at the table and be prepared to be awestruck." He waved her to a chair, bowing low over his arm.

Marty couldn't help but smile as he gathered his ingredients and started the bacon frying. He kept up a silly description of his movements as he sliced a tomato, washed the lettuce, and popped bread into the toaster.

"And, voila." He presented her with a sandwich on a paper plate then sat down across from her with a matching plate of his own. "I'll bet that is the best BLT you've ever tasted."

She took a tentative bite and couldn't hold back a groan of satisfaction. It really did taste like a little bit of heaven.

They didn't talk as they ate, just sat in companionable silence. For once she wasn't focused on his sexiness but concentrated on the food instead. She was nearly finished when she glanced up and happened to catch his eye.

"You've got mayonnaise on your lip," he said huskily, his gaze fastened on her mouth.

She flicked her tongue out and ran it across her lips, making the white spot disappear.

Jake gulped.

Now damn it. He'd gone and broken the spell of cozy togetherness and made her think about him sexually again. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his.

Maybe she could break the spell if she got up and started cleaning away the evidence of their snack. She gathered up her plate and the rest of her sandwich, her appetite suddenly gone. She was only hungry for one thing now.

Marty stuffed her trash into the garbage can and turned around and ran smack into Jake.

He towered there in all his glory, his body covered in pajama pants and a silky t-shirt. His hair was rumpled, a heavy shadow covering his jaw line. God, he looked good.

She felt his gaze skim over her figure in its brief shirt…his shirt. The thought sent goose bumps skittering across her skin and oh my God, her nipples were turning hard.

She had to get out of here or she was going to throw herself at him and start eating him alive. He looked too delicious, too irresistible. She moved to pass him and he sidestepped, blocking her way.

"Marty." Just one word, just her name, and she felt herself melting.

She turned her head away, afraid to look into his eyes.

"Marty, look at me."

Was that a tremor in his voice?

"I almost lost you tonight." His hands reached out and grasped her upper arms. "I came so close to losing you."

That's when she did turn and look at him—saw the look of raw pain on his face.

Nobody had ever looked at her like that before.

Aw, damn it. He'd gone and done it. He'd made her fall in love with him.

Lord, she didn't want to love him. He was exactly the kind of man she didn't want. A musician. A fucking rich musician. The worst kind.

But she couldn't help it. She was caught in a whirlpool being pulled deeper and deeper into its depths. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move.

Until he reached out and caught her in his arms. Then she eagerly burrowed against him, turning her face up to receive his kisses. God, she was drowning in sensations.

He drove his fingers into the rich abundance of her hair, drawing her closer and closer. She kissed him back, eagerly, hungrily. Her own hands swept the length of his back, feeling the strength in his muscles, marveling at the steel beneath her fingers.

Jake played one hand across her throat, feathering his touch, gently caressing her velvety skin. She shivered and tossed her head back giving him free access to the area. His lips soon followed his fingers, a blaze of desire igniting beneath his touch.

Jake tugged on her hand and led her out the door to the deck. The storm had disappeared, a star-spangled sky spread overhead. The warm night air whispered across her body as he gathered her in his arms.

"I don't ever want to come so close to losing you again," he whispered. "God, I don't know how it happened but you have become essential to me. I need you in my life."

His words reverberated in her ear. Essential. Necessary. She knew the feeling. It felt like she couldn't live without him.

"I don't want to lose you, either. I keep reliving that scene, knowing how close we both came to dying." Her voice caught in her throat.

"Ah, Marty, I didn't want to feel this way about you. I wanted to run from the first moment I laid eyes on you. But I couldn't. I knew you were my destiny the minute I saw you on top of that pool table, wielding that stick. You looked so pretty, so wild. I couldn't help falling in love then and there."

Holy crap. He'd said the L word.

Now what was she going to do?