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She undid him. Completely undid him. He didn’t know how that would translate in the real world, but right now as he turned her, pressing her back against the tile, holding her there with his body, so his hands could roam over her wet, hot one, he didn’t care.

“I want you,” she whispered. “So much.”

Stopping nearly killed him, but he lifted his head. “I want you, too, Dorie.” He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. “So damned much it hurts, but-”

“But it doesn’t change anything. I know, Christian.”

When he opened his eyes, hers were shiny, too shiny, but she was smiling. “It’s okay.” Then she kissed him. Kissed him until he could do nothing but wrap her in his arms and moan her name. Only when air was necessary did he pull back, looking into her eyes, those amazing, mesmerizing eyes.

“I know what’s in store tomorrow, Christian,” she said softly. “And I still want today.”

God. He pressed his forehead to hers. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve her, and for her sake, he needed to stop the madness. “I can’t do this to you. I-”

“I’m a big girl, Christian. Now love me. I want to remember this. You.”

Lifting his head, he stroked his fingers over her jaw. “I’ll never forget you.”

“I intend to make sure of that.”

Then she put her mouth to his again, and pulled him under.

TWENTY-FOUR

When Christian came up for air, Dorie’s lashes were wet, sticking together, the shower water running down her face and into her clothing, which was plastered to her every curve. He’d never seen anything so sexy. “Do you always take a shower with your clothes on?”

She smiled. “It’s becoming a habit.”

Taking the hem of her top in his hands, he lifted. Raising up her arms, she let him pull it off over her head and toss it out of the shower. Her eyes filled with arousal and trust and so damned much affection and need he nearly had to close his.

Don’t need me. Christ, don’t need me. At the end of the day, he never had anything left in the tank to give to someone.

At least that’s what he’d always thought, what he’d believed, and he’d lived his life by it. He healed others, that’s what he did, the end.

A little breathless, she smiled again, the one that clenched his gut tight and knotted him up, all in good ways, ways he hadn’t believed possible. Her bra was pale peach and sheer, revealing everything to him, including the fact that he turned her on every bit as much as she turned him on. Flicking open the front clasp, the blood drained from his head for parts south at the low, sexy catch in her throat. Then the bra slipped and fell to the shower floor, and he couldn’t think at all.

She had tan lines, her limbs darkened from the last few days in the sun. Her breasts were perfectly outlined as if she was still wearing her bikini top, the skin there pale and glistening, her nipples hard and pebbled.

With water running over them.

“I’ve had a lot of firsts this week,” she said very quietly, her voice husky as her arms slid up his chest and around his neck, one of her hands sinking into his hair, her fingers tightening. “All life-changing firsts.”

Life-changing. He opened his mouth to ask her to clarify, but then her gaze dipped to his lips and he knew she wanted another kiss.

With their mouths already lined up, only a breath away, with her breasts smashed up against his chest, it was going to happen. But he forced himself to hold back a beat, to make sure he could, and it was just hard enough that he knew the truth. He wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman in a good long time.

Maybe ever.

The enforced wait had anticipation flowing through him, he slid his hands down her sides, barely grazing her breasts, her ribs, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her skirt, which was clinging to her hips and legs like a second skin. He knew he had no right to this, but neither could he summon the strength to stop. “You should really walk away from me.”

Instead, she pressed her body to his. “Don’t say no,” she whispered.

Was she kidding? It’d have taken a bigger man than himself. He slid her skirt down her legs until it pooled at their feet on top of her bra.

She was wearing a tiny scrap of green silk with tinier yellow daisies embroidered on the edging, which for some reason made him smile.

“I know I don’t match. I’m not the most organized-”

When he tugged them off, she shut up. With the water hammering his back, he slid to his knees and pressed his mouth to her hip.

“Oh,” she breathed.

Her other hip.

Her fingers sinking in his hair. “What if someone comes?”

He ran his tongue along the edge of the cotton. “The only person who’s going to come is you.”

Her head thunked back against the tile as her fingers tightened in his hair, hard enough to make him wince, but instead he smiled. Smiled as he drew her into his mouth and made her cry out his name. Smiled while driving her over the edge and into his arms. Smiled as he stood up, lifted her up and thrust into her.

He couldn’t remember ever grinning as he took a woman before, and couldn’t have imagined it, but then her creamy heat surrounded him, pulled him in, and his amusement faded away. In its place came that ache in his chest. A physical pain.

“Christian,” she murmured, her hands cupping his face. Pressing her forehead to his, she panted softly as he moved within her. “I never knew-”

Him either. By her own admission, he had more experience than her when it came to sex, and he’d still had no idea. This wasn’t simple sex, and in a flash of clarity, he recognized it for what it was. Not just pure attraction. Not just companionship, or an adrenaline rush.

But he didn’t want to put a name to it.

Instead, he took her mouth and her body, and when she came apart for him with his name on her lips, he felt his already racing pulse kick into an even higher gear. Hell, his heart nearly burst out of his damn chest, especially when he thought about this being the last time. Because it hurt to even think the words he thought he’d wanted, he kissed her-a long, deep, wet kiss designed to make them both forget everything but what they did to each other, only even that backfired, because in the forgetting, he remembered how perfect it really was…

Dorie tossed back her wet hair and walked down the decadent upstairs hallway, marveling anew at the sharp contrast between the past few days with no luxuries, and now, surrounded by the most gorgeous house she’d ever seen. She caught sight of her own reflection in a long gilded mirror and stopped short. Her skin was glowing, her eyes sparkling. Seemed being shipwrecked agreed with her.

That, or the sex.

Actually, Christian. Christian agreed with her.

The hallway was wide, tiled, and cool, thanks to the lush plants and openness of the layout. The colors were definitely South Pacific, bright primary colors splashed on the walls. Everywhere there were plants, big and small, all moist and green and swaying in the light breeze provided by all the opened doorways and windows.

The balcony was lined in clear glass so that she could see down to the huge open room beneath. She came to a stop at the top of the stairs, aware that her body was still humming with carnal pleasure, and that most likely she wore a grin from ear to ear that screamed Just Satisfied.

Multiple times.

God, she felt alive, and had since Christian had pulled her into the shower and stripped her out of her clothes.

Actually, she’d felt this way from that first moment in Fiji when she’d stood watching him board the Sun Song, utterly at ease with himself and everything around him.

Being with him, especially when she was naked, was heaven. Leaving him, which she would do far too soon, was going to feel like hell on earth.