“Jilly?” Ben whispered against her ear.

In response, she snuggled closer in to him. Breathing in his manly scent—grass and soap and sex. Her lips nuzzled his neck, still warm and dewy from sleep. Memories of last night flooded her mind as her tongue found his pulse racing beneath the sinews of his neck. He groaned as he shifted next to her.

“The photographer,” was all he managed, his voice tight and strained. Her hand traced down his body, finding the rest of him was as well.

She giggled, dreamily drawing her mouth down his neck to his rigid collarbone, never letting go of him. Wanting to bring back the glow of last night.

“Jilly, ten more seconds of this and I won’t be able to talk to you,” he hissed.

“Promise?” Her voice was rich and throaty from sleep. She pulled her leg over his, lowering her other hand until they met, feeling him pulse beneath her gentle fingers.

“Woman, I am trying to focus here,” his voice teasingly threatened. He tilted her face to look up at him, not moving the rest of her. “Last night was...”

As his eyes closed, she searched his face for meaning. Suddenly unsure, her hands scurried back up his body, a barrier between them. Insecurities thundered in her head.

His eyes flew back open. “I didn’t mean for you to stop.” His eyes smiled and her body relaxed. He reached down, engulfing her fingers with his own. “It’s just that I’ve never...”

“Never what?” She stared up at him, wishing she could peer into his mind and find the words he fumbled for.

His eyes closed again as he pressed his lips to her fingertips. “Last night, you, I mean we, didn’t, we forgot —“

Jilly snatched her hands away from him. “Spit it out Ben, I can take it.” She set her jaw so that he wouldn’t see the tremble she felt in her lower lip. Her stomach boiled with uncertainty. He seemed to enjoy himself last night, hadn’t he? Had she completely misread him?

His eyes opened wide as he took back her hands, his strength winning the tug of war for proximity. “Are you on the pill?”

Her arms slackened, releasing her fight out of curiosity. “Yes, why?”

“Last night we didn’t—I forgot to remind you about a condom.”

Feeling the color rise from her shoulders, she buried her face against his chest. For once she was completely at a loss for words. What do you say in this moment? Apologize, give a complete medical history, what?

His arms enveloped her, easing her apprehension a little. His breath on her ear warmed her as he whispered, “I’ve never been so overwhelmed by anyone in my whole life.”

She nuzzled into him again, still unsure of what to say. Sorry? Thank you?

“I trusted you knew what you were doing. I’m probably messing this all up, right? I’ve never gone without a condom before. No one has ever made love to me, not just—”

Her mouth kissed him quiet, quelling his insecurities with her own. He got it, he knew what she’d been trying to do.

“Never?” she asked quietly.

His head shook for an answer, his eyes telling her it was the truth.

“Thank you for letting me be your first,” she said gently. Pressing her forehead against the warmth of his, she closed her eyes, drinking him in.

* * *

Leaning against the bar, Jillian flipped through the golf magazine. Angela had been right, just pretending to be interested in golf worked like a charm. Of course the photographer might be helping. Everyone wanted to know what they were up to.

The day had gone smoothly, the fresh air keeping her awake despite her lack of sleep. She’d made sure to catch shots of all the places she’d written about in her draft for the magazine. The new shots, coupled with stock photos, should give the editor more than enough to choose from.

Now she focused on getting the sassy shot to run opposite her column. If she hurried, she’d have time to find Ben and talk him into driving her to the airport. A car was coming for her and the photographer, but she wanted more.

It was silly, and needy, and desperate. But that didn’t matter. She needed him to call, to try, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do to put the odds in her favor. Even tempt him with a repeat performance from their last road trip.

“Finally, you smile.” Jensen, the photographer from Mine & Ours sighed, adjusting her lens. “I think that’s the first one that might work. Keep smiling. Let me see if I can round up someone to hit on you. That might look fun.”

Before Jillian could respond, Jensen was knee deep in duffers, passing out her business card and pointing. Jillian straightened her posture. The sooner Jensen got a shot she liked, the sooner Jillian could hunt down Ben. A meeting had pulled him away before Jensen arrived, and he’d been working ever since.

“This is Doug.” Jillian blinked at the introduction, listening as Jensen gave them both instructions. “Jilly, make sure you arch your upper body and really make eye contact.”

Following Jensen’s instructions came easy. Jillian had a photo like this to correspond with almost every column. She knew what Jensen was looking for. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, flirting for all she was worth with the man next to her. Talking to Doug, Jillian got the feeling he’d be perfect, for Jensen. She started talking up her friend, sparking interest in the man’s eyes.

“Hey baby, you been waiting long?” Ben’s voice rumbled through her, his hand snaking its way across her middle. His lips pressed against her temple. It would have been sweet, if she hadn’t seen Ben’s possessive expression mirrored in Doug’s eyes.

“That could work.” Jensen sounded excited as she bounded from across the room.

Jillian introduced her, explaining the situation to Ben. She tried to wriggle free of his grasp, but he held firm. Jillian pursed her lips together. There was no way she’d make it back to New York without whispers of their relationship. Which, if he called, wouldn’t be so bad. But if he didn’t, she didn’t care to be reminded of it.

Doug offered to buy Jensen a drink, allowing Jillian to drag Ben to a quieter corner.

“You can let me go now.”

Ben released her, his finger drawing a line across her neck. “Where is it?”

“Jensen vetoed it for the pictures.” Jillian rolled her eyes, smiling hopefully inside. “She’s going to suspect something, after the way you came in here. I have a whole flight back with her.”

“You’re going to have to tell people sometime, Jillian.”

If there were anything to tell, she’d gladly broadcast it to the world. But if it turned out as she feared, to be nothing more to him than a convenient fling, she didn’t care to share her humiliation and heartbreak.

“Fine, you want me to say I’m sorry?” Ben pulled a box as long as his hand from his pocket.

Jillian took the box, her stomach queasy. Presents were a good sign, right? Not a parting gift. The hinge creaked as she opened it to find a black velvet choker lying on white satin, a teardrop-shaped black pearl pendant threaded in the middle.

“I thought it would match your earrings, the ones you’ve worn all week.”

Jillian’s hand rose to her earlobe, dangling with fake diamonds. Another of Jensen’s mandates from earlier. Ben had noticed her lucky earrings? The knot in her stomach melted, warming her.

“You swear you’re going to call me tomorrow?”

“Of course.” He was laughing, but she was relieved. Wrapping a hand around his neck, she pulled him down to her, kissing him full and deep. To hell with the questions she’d have to answer on the plane, back at work. None of it mattered as long as they were real.

Jillian stepped closer, running the other hand up his body. Where was his office again? Surely it was close enough. Ben’s pants vibrated against her hip.

Startled, Jillian pulled away. Ben cursed, pulling his phone from his pocket and barking orders at it. Jillian smiled patiently as he tried to get rid of the person on the other end.

“Tell them no.” He smiled, holding up a finger. “What do you mean? They brought who? Two minutes.” Ben slammed the phone shut and jammed it back in his pocket. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll take care of it as fast as I can so we can still say good-bye.”

Did he believe it? He nodded slightly as he smiled down at her. Jillian’s heart stuttered. Would she ever see him again?

Calm down, Jilly, she admonished herself. Give him the benefit of the doubt here.

She nodded, not wanting to let him hear the doubt in her voice. His lips grazed against hers much too quickly before he walked away.

* * *

“We want the tape. This is endlessly fascinating to the community. It’s a phenomenon that should be shared.” The stout man slashed his enthusiasm through the air with his hand.

Ben tried to pay attention as the two biologists prattled on in his office, but he kept glancing at the clock. Jillian would be getting on the plane, the photographer in tow.

There was no way he could catch her. Which meant there was no way these bastards were going to get what they wanted. It was only fair.

“I’m not inviting that kind of publicity onto my course. It was a one-time incident, not an annual happening. I appreciate your interest in the phenomenon, but we will not be releasing the tape publicly.”

Willy crossed his arms across his chest and smiled smugly, leaning against the back wall. Ben tried not to return the grin. Willy had been trying to drill this point home to these people for an hour so Ben could slip away to see Jillian. Good thing too, from the way that character was eyeing her at the bar. Even if it was just for pictures, he didn’t like it.

“It will help illustrate how these animals interact naturally. We’ll be able to study why this happens, what circumstances might bring it on.” The biologist tried again, but Ben wasn’t interested. Even more so because of the local newspaper reporter sitting in the corner, recording every word.

“I disagree. This is a golf course, not a nature preserve. This is not the natural habitat for either of the creatures involved. And the issue has resolved itself. No need for the curious to be camping out on our greens waiting for a repeat performance.”

“You don’t know that. We never determined what started it in the first place, so it could happen again at any time.”

“It’s happened in Germany,” Willy chimed in. Ben pursed his lips together and prayed Willy wouldn’t mention how the problem resolved itself. The last thing they needed was an animal rights activist sit-in protesting for the rights of crows. “There they decided it was a lack of food that made the birds go after them toads. Probably the same thing here.”

“So you’re feeding the birds?” The reporter leaned forward in his chair. He looked disappointed, his interesting exploding-toad story turning into the tale of a golf-course bird problem. Ben smiled. Good. That meant it would probably get buried in the back, next to last week’s corrections.

His smile fell as he realized the room was silent, Willy staring at the floor. To lie or not to lie?

“Birds seem to congregate where the food is.” Ben said. “We don’t know what brought them there in the first place, but we’re vigilant to ensure this won’t happen again.”

“We’d be better able to do that if we could analyze the tape,” the biologist insisted.

“No.”

“What about a still picture?” the reporter asked. “Just of one of the toads?”

No way was he going to let Cannon Meadows be forever associated with exploding amphibians. “I appreciate your interest, but this incident is best put behind us. I’m sure your readers would be much more interested in learning about the tournament we have coming up to raise money for breast-cancer research, than about some anomaly.”

Ben stood, signaling the discussion was over. The biologists kept making arguments as he ushered them out the door. Closing it behind them, he turned to see Willy’s beaming face.

“Your old man would have done it. He would have caved and I’d have been dealing with walk-ons for the rest of the summer.”

Ben smiled and nodded in agreement. His father was always one to cave when things got dicey. Probably why the resort hadn’t been making the kind of money it should since his mother died.

“You’re doing great, you know. I know he doesn’t tell you that, but you are. Your mama would be so proud of you.”

Ben nodded again and sat back down at his desk. It had been a long day, and the sun was still up. He flipped open his planner, searching for his window to go to Jillian.

“You could convince her to come here.” Willy stepped closer, leaning on the edge of the desk. “But if you decide to go, give me some warning. I’m not working for Cross.”

Ben dropped his brows. “We’re not selling to Cross. Jay and my dad will be back soon. Everything will go back to normal.”

“He only held onto it so that you boys could take over. Your dad hasn’t wanted to be running this place for years. Since your mama got sick. He’s been waiting on you to be done with school, on Jay to dry out. Jay might come back, but your daddy’s done with this place.”

Ben’s heart sank. If Willy was right, he couldn’t leave. Jillian moving here would be the only option. Not a bad one, considering he loved Cannon Meadows. The land, the business, the possibility. But did Jillian feel more for him than she did her career?

The phone on his desk rang to life. “I’ve gotta get back to work.” Willy sidled to the door. “Gotta make sure they didn’t go muck up my turf looking for more toads.”

Ben chuckled, trying to clear his mind before lifting the receiver. His father’s voice grumbled over the line.

“Who the hell is Jillian?”

* * *

Sliding his key card through the electronic lock, Ben took a deep breath. Then he turned the handle and stepped into the room. When she hadn’t come to say goodbye, he’d hoped she’d changed her mind and decided to stay.

He called her name, but she wasn’t there. He walked through the rooms slowly, looking at everywhere she’d been. The bed still in its disarray from the morning, the bathroom door wide open.

Ben stepped inside, able to pick up the faintest trace of her perfume. Noticing a washcloth on the counter he reached for it, wondering if it would still be wet. When he picked it up, something dropped to the floor. He looked down and watched her black pearl earrings spin across the tile.

Crouching down, he found them both and slid them into his pocket. Had she left them on purpose, so he’d have a reason to call? Probably not; a maid was more likely to find them than he was.

Ben shook his head at the sap in the mirror and made his way out of the room. He kept his hand in his pocket, his fingers studying the earrings. Glad to have some part of her, no matter how small.

He walked out and sat on the bed, his head sinking into his hands. His father’s voice still echoed in his head, frantic. Jay had disappeared from the facility, leaving only a note. Jillian had told Angela where to find him, and they’d left together. They’d be in touch when they worked through some things.

How could he not be upset with Jillian? She knew what his family meant to him, how hard Jay had been working to stay clean. Why would she think she knew Jay better than his father? His brother? She’d never even met him.

Ben had been with Jillian for a few days, and she gave him no promise of more. They were his past, present and future. How could she expect him to react any other way to this kind of betrayal?

She hadn’t—that much was obvious in the way she left without a goodbye. It had taken everything in him to come here, to come to her for an explanation. He needed her to tell him why she had done it, to have it all make sense.

It didn’t make any sense at all in the world he had created around them. He shook his head, trying to dispel the romanticized ideal crumbling around him. In the real world, where Jillian was as she claimed to be, it made perfect sense. She was a woman looking for a fling to write about in her column, nothing more.

Jay’s sobriety hadn’t mattered to her. Angela had asked her to find the information and she had. Jay didn’t matter, and neither did he. They were all a means to an end. Good copy.

He’d been such a hopeful fool. She’d been honest with him about what she wanted. Never giving him anything concrete about when and where they’d meet again. He was the one who kept reading more into it, hoping that behind her walls, she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

The sound of his ironic laughter echoed through the room. He was in love with her. He had thought the connection with her was phenomenal, when for her it had been just sex. It was reality, the awful truth, yet it did nothing to turn the tide of despair washing over him.

Even now, alone in her empty room, he wanted her. Was willing to take anything she offered as long as she didn’t leave. That kind of desperation and lack of control didn’t sit well with him. Because he knew with a few words, he’d let her do it all over again.