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Cord clearly wasn’t used to surprises-not surprises in life, not surprises from women. He wasn’t used to being wanted…well, like crazy. He clearly wasn’t expecting a woman who would yank and tug until she had him naked. A woman who would bite, then kiss with tenderness. A woman who could teach him to dance, nowhere near a dance floor. More than anything, he seemed completely unprepared for a woman who focused all her attention, all her heat, all her need, all of everything she had, just on him. Only on him.

Only for him.

He liked it.

He liked it all. But eventually, he seemed to feel there was a thin, very thin, line between pleasure and torture; at that point, he shifted her beneath him smoother than the slide of butter. The yellow bra, her favorite, was long gone. Her legs snugged tight around his waist, her skin a silken sheen as he plunged into her, hard and deep.

Until then, Sophie thought she’d had complete power over the situation. In a single second she discovered she was wrong. She’d always been afraid of needing someone too much, of counting on anyone or anything. She’d never thought she could let it go, allow a man to find her vulnerability. Prove it. Use it…for her. With her.

In another universe, a fire siren screamed and lights flashed and pale moonlight slivered through the windows on a cold, dark night. A cranky furnace came on, steamed dry air through the vents. She heard it all…but not really. There was only Cord in her world. At some point, a picture fell from the wall, startling them both into sudden laughter. They weren’t just making the bed rock. Pillows tumbled to the floor, then her puffy white comforter, and then neither were laughing, because she needed too much. Wanted too much.

Yearned for far, far too much.

She hissed his name, then called it desperately, just as she started that long, long orgasmic soar. When the ride was over, she was gasping for air. He pulled her on top of him, where she poured like a mindless puddle.

He was breathing as hard as she was, damp with hot sweat, as she was. He yanked some kind of cover over her cooling body, but otherwise didn’t move. Eventually, they both started breathing normally again, or close enough.

“It isn’t real, you know,” he murmured.

“I know.”

“Nothing’s this good. I’m going to wake up any minute and give myself credit for the best fantasy I ever had.”

“Hey! It’s not your fantasy. It’s mine.” She said, eyes still closed, muscles still like noodles, “Just so you know, normally I don’t like this all that much. I mean, I’m okay with the cuddling part. I just don’t like all the sweat and messiness.”

She heard his choke of laughter. “All right. If you’re going to bare your soul, I’ll bare mine. Sex is important to me. Abstinence completely sucks. But seriously stupendous sex takes so damn much time that I wish I didn’t have an overdose of testosterone. It’d make life easier. It’s not as if I really like it.”

It was her turn to choke with laughter.

They both felt a thump at the bottom of the bed. Cord looked at her, rather than the source of the thump. “I know we closed that door.”

“He can open it.”

“How? He’s a damned cat!”

“He lifts up and turns the knob.” She wouldn’t have thought either one of them was capable of fast movement, but Cord suddenly swooped her into him, spoon fashion, so smoothly and completely that she never finished the thought.

“I’m not into sharing,” he announced.

“Um…does that mean he can’t sleep on the bed?”

“It means that nobody, but nobody, is sleeping between us.”

That was totally okay with Sophie.

The dream was old, familiar, awful. A cold, dark night. Sophie, huddled between her two sisters, sitting on the curb, bare feet freezing. A fireman had draped a blanket over the three of them. The dread in her stomach was louder than a drum, so loud she couldn’t hear anyone or anything else.

They were all crying, crying, crying. No one had told them their parents were dead. Sophie was crying loud enough so that she wouldn’t be able to hear anyone tell her that, wouldn’t listen, and no one could make her. But no one was even trying, until three strangers came up to them, two in police uniforms. One picked her up. She screamed. He carried her away from her sisters, even though she kicked and squirmed and hit. She had to have her sisters. Maybe she knew about her mom, her dad, but she had to have her sisters. She had to have someone. Everyone she loved couldn’t abandon her, could they?

But then she realized, as loud as she thought she was screaming, she was making no sound. No one could hear.

Sophie woke in the darkness. She always woke at that same point in the dream. Always felt that first punch of unbearable loss…then exasperation.

After all these years, she was tired of the nightmare. All it ever did was bring the haunting sadness back. Throughout her life, she expected to be abandoned whenever she cared too deeply. It was old news, just like the nightmare was old news.

And of course, she knew why the dream had seeped into her consciousness tonight. She closed her eyes, snuggled closer to the long, warm body next to her. For once, she wasn’t going to let her fears get in the way. Cord felt good. More than good. Even in sleep, his lips found her brow and his arm draped protectively around her.

It seemed that only seconds passed, yet the next time Sophie opened her eyes, dawn light filtered through the film of curtains. She loved it, watching the light sneak over the carpet, up on the bed, then over the strong orb of Cord’s shoulder, his neck. She found herself smiling. Goofy or not, she felt as if she were purring on the inside.

One of his eyelids lifted, then the other. “You can’t be perky this early in the morning.”

“It’s one of my faults,” she admitted.

“What a shame. I thought our relationship could last a little longer, but now I’ll have to give you up.”

It didn’t feel that way, judging from how enthusiastically Mr. Big Boy was pressing against her leg. Or, for that matter, from the sleepy glitter of arousal in his eyes.

“I don’t kiss without brushing my teeth,” she warned him.

“Oh. So now you give me the rules?”

“And I get the shower first.”

“I should have known. The greedy, selfish side was bound to show up eventually. I’ve been waiting for it. What’s the rest of the bad news?” He heaved a comical sigh.

She smiled…but then that soft, lush smile disappeared. She didn’t want to think about old nightmares or current dangers, but with daylight, she couldn’t avoid coping with either for long.

“Cord,” she said quietly, “I know you’ve held back from telling me some things. You didn’t mention Jon’s autopsy results. You’ve never mentioned any details about your meetings with the police, or what you chose to tell them about what we found in Jon’s apartment.” When he started to answer, she put a soft finger on his lips.

“You know what?” she whispered. “It’s okay. You could have all kinds of good reasons why you don’t want me to know certain things-starting with the obvious. We’ve only known each other a short time.”

He hesitated before responding. His eyes searched hers. She searched right back. Finally he said, “You woke up mighty serious.”

“I did,” she agreed. “And since you asked about the rules, cookie, I figured I’d give you the big-picture bad news.” Her tone was still teasing, but she wasn’t. Not about this. “I really only have one rule.”

“Which is?”

“For you to be honest with me. That’s the only thing I really need from you. Just be honest. See, I’ve always had a hard time believing in forevers. I’m not in a rush to count on anyone or anything, so I can sure understand if you feel that way, too. I don’t need promises. I’ll even survive if you choose to take off. But I really need you to be straight with me. And that’s it. The only rule I’ve got. You don’t have to tell me stuff you’re not ready or willing to share. But don’t mislead me. Don’t lie to me. Okay?”