After a delicious dinner of grilled steak and salad that Rylan had insisted on cooking, Jaci had retreated to the bathroom for a steamy bubble bath.

She told herself she wasn’t hiding from Rylan.

She just wanted some time alone to soothe her raw nerves. Something that wasn’t possible when Rylan was hovering over her, his instincts to protect on full alert.

But it wasn’t his vigilant attitude that occupied her mind as she was soaking in the soapy water. No. Her thoughts were entirely consumed with the way Rylan’s gaze had lingered on her as they ate dinner at her small kitchen table. And how he’d pressed the hard line of his leg against hers as they’d sat on the sofa.

Every lingering touch was like being struck by lightning. Her skin tingled and her stomach fluttered with dangerous excitement.

At last she’d fled, hoping to regain command of her out-of-control hormones.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t been as easy as she’d hoped.

She’d been unable to close her eyes without having her thoughts hijacked by images of Rylan joining her in the bathtub, his hard, naked body moving against her as the steam wrapped around them.

Finally, she’d conceded defeat. A hot bath wasn’t going to ease the awareness that was sizzling through her.

Wrapping a towel around her still-damp body, she entered her bedroom. She’d already made sure the spare room was aired and the sheets changed for Rylan. Hopefully he was already tucked in for the night.

She was barely through the doorway when she realized her mistake. Rylan wasn’t tucked in his bed. Instead, he’d spent the past half hour preparing for the perfect seduction.

Her startled gaze skimmed around the shadowed bedroom, which was lit by a dozen candles that flickered on her dresser and the two nightstands. Next to the double bed was a bottle of wine that he’d bought when they were in town earlier, and two fluted crystal glasses.

She blinked, barely managing to absorb the transformation of her boring room when she found warm arms wrapping around her as Rylan pressed her against the wall.

Raw excitement blasted through her at the feel of his hard body pressing against her. He’d changed out of his clothes and was wearing a loose pair of sweatpants that left his chest bare.

Her fingers twitched, longing to explore the chiseled hardness of his muscles and the dusting of golden hair that arrowed down the flat plane of his stomach.

He’d always been lean, but as he’d matured he’d gained a toned bulk. It was no wonder the women in California had been lining up to spend time with him.

Her mouth went dry, her heart racing.

It’d been a long time since she’d been this attracted to a man. Then she swallowed a sudden urge to laugh. Hell, who was she fooling? She’d never been this sexually attracted to another man.

It’d always been Rylan.

Always.

Pressing against her, Rylan allowed his fingers to trace the line of her shoulders, his eyes shimmering like pure gold in the candlelight.

“Did you enjoy your bath?”

His voice was low and already husky with desire. She shivered, her skin tingling beneath his light touch.

“It was relaxing.”

His lips twisted in a knowing smile. Did he sense that she’d spent her time trying to squash her vicious hunger?

“Good.” His head dipped down, his lips skimming over her cheek before they nuzzled the corner of her mouth. At the same time his fingers moved to trace the top of her towel, lingering on the upper swell of her breasts. The heat of his touch seared against her skin, making her nipples harden with anticipation. “I intend to relax you even more.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, her toes curling against the hard floor.

“This doesn’t feel relaxing.”

He kissed her. Hard. His tongue pressed against her lips, demanding entry. Desire drenched the air, sucking her under like a whirlpool.

“Give me time,” he assured her, catching her lower lip between his teeth. He pressed his hips forward, letting her feel the hard thrust of his erection. “I’ve just started.”

Her stomach clenched, a damp need pulsing between her legs.

“There’s more?” she asked.

“Much, much more.”

With one skillful tug, he had the towel loosened, allowing it to fall from her body to pool at her feet. Jaci stiffened, feeling intensely vulnerable as his gaze ran a heated inspection over her naked body.

She was a woman. Which meant she’d spent far too much of her life looking in the mirror, searching for every imperfection. She was acutely aware that her breasts were full, but not perky like she’d seen in magazines. And her stomach wasn’t flat. Instead it had a soft swell that spread even further at her hips. And her legs were sturdy, not slender like Payton’s.

Rylan, however, didn’t look disappointed as he studied every quivering inch of her. Instead, his eyes darkened to molten gold, and heat stained his cheeks with color.

“Christ,” he breathed. “You’re so beautiful.”

She blushed. “I’m not.”

He halted her protest with a fierce kiss. “Don’t ever say that again.”

She trembled, her hands lifting to smooth over the solid strength of his chest. He felt good. His skin was hot to the touch, and silky smooth beneath the rasp of hair.

Unlike her, he looked like he’d been sculpted by the hands of an artist.

“It’s the truth,” she said.

“Then you’re not seeing what I’m seeing.” Pressing his forehead against hers, he allowed his hands to brush through the damp strands of her hair. “I love everything about you,” he insisted. “I love your hair. It makes me think of a wood sprite.”

Her heart missed a beat. Did he truly think she was beautiful?

She sternly chided herself for her silly vanity.

A man would say anything when he was trying to lure a woman into bed.

“A wood sprite?” she instead teased.

His fingers moved to brush over her brow, his expression oddly somber.

“And I love your eyes,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “They can be the blue of a summer sky, or the mysterious silver of moonlight, depending on your mood.”

“Very poetic.”

His hands traced the curve of her throat before heading lower to cup the softness of her rounded flesh.

“And I love your breasts.” His voice had dropped to a low growl. Sexual pleasure poured through her, arching her spine and making her nails dig into his hard flesh. “I’ve been fantasizing about your breasts for longer than I want to admit. I knew they’d be round and firm and your nipples would be rosy with invitation. Do they taste as good as they look?”

She glanced down, eagerness pulsing through her at the sight of his fingers molding her mounds, the darkness of his fingers in stark contrast to her pale skin.

Her nipples were tightly budded, offering a silent invitation as he lowered his head to close his lips around one tip.

Grabbing his shoulders, she moaned as he used his teeth and tongue to torment her tender flesh. A primitive need beat deep inside her, coaxing her to rub against the thick length of his erection.

For years she’d fantasized about this moment. But nothing could prepare her for the sheer male sensuality that cloaked around her.

A hot, erotic hunger cascaded through her, clenching her muscles.

“Delicious,” he said, turning his attention to her other breast. His tongue rasped against her nipple, his hands sliding down the curve of her waist to grasp her hips. “But I’m not done.”

Jaci’s head tilted back against the wall, her mind fuzzy with a sensual haze. She was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on his words.

She was far more focused on the thunderbolts of pleasure that were making her knees weak.

“You’re not?” she managed to rasp.

“Not even close.” His lips stroked between her breasts, heading downward. “I love your skin.” He kissed a small freckle on her upper stomach, then moved to another freckle just above her belly button. “Silky smooth with tiny speckles that lead precisely where I want to go.”

A choked laugh was wrenched from her throat as he lowered himself to his knees, his lips continuing to press against her stomach.

“You’re saying my freckles are some sort of GPS?” she asked.

“Shh.” He tilted back his head to send her a chiding glance. “I’m not done.”

“Bossy.”

“And arrogant,” he added, his attention returning to his delectable seduction.

“Yes.” She bit her lower lip as he used the tip of his tongue to explore the swell of her hip, his hands moving to grasp the fullness of her backside.

“I love your butt.” He squeezed her flesh, using his shoulder to urge her legs farther apart. “It fits perfectly in my hands.”

“Rylan.” His name fell from her lips as he nibbled a path to her inner thigh.

She’d gone from arousal to painful, aching need in the blink of an eye. It’d been so long. Too long.

Now she was drowning in desire.

Perhaps sensing her fierce hunger, he moved his attention to where she needed him the most.

“I’ve got you, Jaci,” he assured her, stroking his tongue through her damp heat.

There was no hesitation. No tentative tasting.

He licked her with a strong, steady rhythm that sent her spiraling toward an explosive orgasm with a speed that was shocking.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, her eyes squeezed shut as sweet bliss pulsed through her, tiny bursts of aftershocks continuing to quake through her body.

Yow. It’d all happened so fast, she barely knew what hit her.

Clearly realizing that she was beyond words, Rylan surged upright, sweeping her off her feet. Cradling her against his chest, he moved to the nearby bed.

“I intended to have a glass of wine and dazzle you with my charm,” he said, leaning down to place her in the middle of the mattress.

A slow, lazy smile curved her lips as he straightened and quickly yanked off his sweats. Her gaze moved down to the heavy jut of his arousal. Any doubt of whether or not he truly wanted her was erased.

He couldn’t fake that.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I saw you in that towel and I lost all control,” Rylan said, crawling onto the bed. He paused to slide on a condom that he’d left next to the bed, then he wrapped her tightly in his arms.

She studied his beautiful face, her arms looping around his neck.

“You were overcome with lust?”

“It’s more than lust, Jaci. Never doubt that,” he said, his expression determined as he rolled her onto her back.

She instinctively spread her legs, allowing his lower body to settle between them. Holding her gaze, he shifted until the tip of his erection was at the entrance to her body, then with one smooth thrust he was buried deep inside her.

She gasped, her back arching at the erotic penetration.

“Consider me dazzled,” she assured him.

“Not yet.” He pulled back before he was pumping into her with enough force to rattle the headboard. “But you will be,” he promised, capturing her lips in a kiss of blatant possession.

She was.

He’d intended to play with Rylan Cooper. The bastard thought he could sweep back into town and claim Jaci. He needed to be taught a lesson.

Which was why he’d left Anne’s body in that precise location. It was a place that would ensure that Cooper understood he’d been outmaneuvered.

And the sight of his reaction had been sweet.

Almost as sweet as Jaci’s terror.

He’d replayed the tape over and over, zooming in to watch the color fade from her face and her hand lift to press against her lips. He could almost taste her fear. It was glorious.

It was only after he’d satisfied himself that he’d returned his attention to Rylan. He’d chuckled at the man’s rigid frustration as he’d stood at the side of the road.

Rylan was smart enough to sense that the body was a warning. And that Jaci would soon be taken away from him. He’d always thought he was so special. The captain of the football team. The deputy with his crisp uniform who was too stupid to realize there was a killer beneath his nose. The filthy rich entrepreneur with his half-dressed bimbos and habit of swooping into town like some golden god.

Ah, yes. It was sweet to watch him floundering with no hope of figuring out who was taunting him.

But then the sheriff and his men had made their appearance and he’d realized that his enjoyment had come with a cost.

His talents were no longer being shrouded in shadows. Which meant he was going to have to be even more clever than usual.

He’d spent several hours worrying about the way he could finish his game. That’s when he’d glanced out his window and realized that despite his love for meticulous detail, there was beauty in sheer blind luck.

Luck, or fate, or destiny had offered him precisely what he needed.