She knew a crossroad when she saw one…

It was stupid. All Vanessa could think of at the moment was how his eyes promised the pleasure of great sex. Sex that would help her forget the lousy day she’d had.

Outside the thunder boomed.

Vanessa’s heart galloped.

Tanner dipped his head and lightly pressed his mouth to the pulse beating at her throat. Heat shot through her body, pooling low in her abdomen. Against all common sense, Vanessa curved her body against his and opened her mouth. He inhaled sharply and slipped his tongue between her teeth. She came undone.

Was it so wrong to sate the yearning sexual needs she’d been holding at bay for so long? Would it be so terrible to have a one-night stand with this man?

Tanner deepened the kiss, breaking the last tenuous thread of restraint she’d managed to hold on to until this moment. Why not? As long as she accepted this for what it was—a fling—everything would be all right.

“Tanner,” she breathed. “Get us a room…”

Lori Wilde is the author of forty books. She’s been nominated for a RITA® Award and four Romantic Times BOOKreviews Reviewers’ Choice Awards. Her books have been excerpted in Cosmopolitan, Redbook and Quick & Simple. Lori teaches writing online through Ed2go. She’s a registered nurse. trained in forensics, and she volunteers at a battered women’s shelter.

Secret Seduction
Lori Wilde

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

About The Author

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

Preview

Copyright

Chapter 1

“HEY, CHICA. Wanna come over, sit on my lap and see what pops up?”

Dr. Vanessa Rodriquez settled onto the bar stool, tugged down the hem of her flirty red dancing dress so as not to expose too much leg and bit back the scathing retort aching to spark off her tongue after her exceptionally disturbing day. At the same time, her mind was gauging how quickly she could get to the pepper spray clipped to the key chain at the bottom of her purse, in case things turned ugly.

The urge to seek refuge from the chic, white-bread world of Confidential Rejuvenations, the VIP boutique hospital where she worked as a resident in plastic surgery, had driven Vanessa to Emilio’s, a neighborhood bar in amostly Hispanic section of Austin, Texas, on this sultry evening in early August.

Lately, the staff of Confidential Rejuvenations had been left reeling from a series of odd occurrences and circum-stances that was chipping away at the hospital’s once impec-cable reputation as a soothing oasis for the rich and pampered with very private health issues. The stress was starting to take a toll on the employees; Vanessa wasn’t immune.

No matter how rough her childhood had been or how far she’d risen from that El Paso barrio, sometimes she simply had to sate her cravings for the culture she’d left behind.

She was feeling fragile, but was determined not to show it. She came to Emilio’s whenever she felt out of step with her environment. Seeking to wash away the blues with top-shelf tequila, chicken flautas and mariachi bands. Unfortu-nately, along with the food, drink and music came masculine attention. She was in no mood to fend off unwanted admirers, innocuous or otherwise.

All she wanted for the night was a place where she could lower her guard, let down her hair and blow off some steam. A place where, if she so desired, she could let her true per-sonality shine through. If the people she worked with at Con-fidential Rejuvenations knew the real Vanessa, they’d be thoroughly shocked at the bad-girl essence she struggled so hard to conceal.

At Emilio’s she was free to express herself. Maybe even take a wild turn on the apron-sized dance floor if the spirit moved her. Just not with the overweight, middle-aged man sporting a gold wedding band on his left ring finger and a sprinkling of tattoos on his Popeye forearms who was leering at her from the other side of the bar. It had been a long time since she’d had to live by her wits, but she still knew how to deal with the likes of this loser.

Vanessa batted her lashes and retorted, “What, Cabron? And waste all your Viagra on something you’ll never have?”

“She nailed you there,” his buddy snickered in Spanish and elbowed him in the ribs.

The man scowled darkly.

She ignored the guy, raised two fingers and motioned for Julio, the bartender. “Tequila shot straight up, best you’ve got, lime and lots of salt,” Vanessa ordered from the handsome, muscular man making his way over to her.

The corner of Julio’s mouth tilted upward. He had a white bar towel thrown over one shoulder. “Bad day?”

Now that was a serious understatement.

“I’ve had better,” Vanessa said evenly, hoping he wouldn’t fall into bartender-as-therapist mode. Julio was a nice guy, but she wasn’t interested in talking about her miserable day.

She was here to drink.

And to dance.

Julio, who had the dreamy face of a poet and the solid body of a heavyweight prizefighter, slapped a shot glass down on the scarred mahogany bar, poured in three fingers of Clase Azul Reposado, then put down a saucer of fresh cut lime wedges and a shaker of Marguerita salt in front of her.

He murmured an old Spanish axiom that roughly translated into, “May the burn soon sear away your troubles.”

Vanessa dipped two fingers between the cleavage of her bra, extracted a folded twenty-dollar bill, warm from her body heat, and slid it across the bar to him. “Take me as far as this will go.”

He nodded. The twenty would just cover two shots of the expensive tequila and his tip.

“And when the band comes back from their break, how about requesting something upbeat and danceworthy?”

“You got it,” Julio said, polishing the chrome fixtures with the bar towel until they gleamed. The air smelled of lemon oil, cocktail peanuts and beer.

Vanessa licked the area between her thumb and index finger on the back of her left hand, and then shook a dusting of the Marguerita salt onto her dampened skin. Fully aware that the men across the bar were practically drooling over her, she picked up a lime wedge with the fingers of her salt-crusted hand and raised the shot glass of tequila with the other.

“Cheers.”

With a flick of her tongue, she licked the salt from her hand, swallowed back the tequila and then bit on the wedge of lime. The tart burst of green citrus rode her throat down after the velvet smooth fire of the high-quality liquor.

Instantly the world brightened and her belly filled with bit-tersweet, nostalgic warmth. Ah, it had been a very long time since she had done this.

Felt this.

She might have a throbbing headache in the morning, but she didn’t care. Tomorrow was her day off and she wasn’t on call. She possessed a critical need for mindless distraction, and the tequila was merely a jump start. Reaching up, she massaged her temple with the flat of her thumb.

“You want to talk about it?” Julio asked.

“No.” She shook her head.

“Bad day, huh?”

“You’re too perceptive.”

He shrugged. “I’m a bartender.”

“Meaning?”

“There’s only two reasons people come into a bar—to celebrate or to drown their sorrows. In spite of that killer red dress, you don’t look like you’re celebrating.”

“How so?”

“No friends.”

Touché.

“Have you heard from your cousin in Mexico?” Vanessa asked, changing the subject as she nibbled on the lime wedge. Six months ago, Vanessa had traveled to El Salvador as part of the group Surgeons Without Boundaries. Julio’s sixteen-year-old cousin, Pilar, had been one of Vanessa’s patients. She’d repaired the girl’s cleft-palate malformation.

Julio’s caramel-colored face beamed. “I just heard from Tia Giselle that Pilar is doing great. Healing well. She has her first boyfriend and she smiles all the time. Thanks to you.”

“That’s wonderful news. Thank you for referring her,” Vanessa said. “It was my honor to help Pilar.”

A chuff of pride filled her chest. Most of the time her work at Confidential Rejuvenations consisted of nipping and tucking wealthy clients as they chased the fountain of youth. Not that she disliked her job at the exclusive hospital, but it didn’t give her the same sense of altruism, satisfaction and accomplishment that volunteering for Surgeons Without Boundaries did. The world of the rich and famous was galaxies away from what she’d experienced in the harsh but beautiful El Salvadorian landscape. It was nice having that balance in her life. For a moment, she wished she were there, performing surgery, changing lives.

Hiding out from Carlo Vega?

“You ready for another?” The bartender nodded at her empty shot glass.

“Not yet.”

“Just let me know when,” Julio said, and then turned to a young couple who’d sidled up to the bar, arms around each other, giggling and pecking kisses at each other’s necks.

After reaching for another lime wedge, Vanessa brought it to her mouth and spun on the bar stool, enjoying the hazy glow settling over her. At first glance, she realized she didn’t know anyone in the bar, but then she hadn’t really expected to, since she hadn’t been in Emilio’s in a long time. Mainly she came here whenever she felt the constraints of her job squeezing in on her. Working for Confidential Rejuvenations meant you had to maintain the utmost sense of decorum and discretion. She’d signed a confidentiality agreement to that effect.

Whispers. Secrets. Mysteries. She was tired of subterfuge.

Suddenly, she felt exceedingly lonely and wished she’d called her best friends Julie Demarco and Elle Kingston to come drinking with her. But Elle had a hot new fiancé in Dr. Dante Nash, and Julie was studying to get board certification as a counselor specializing in sexual dysfunction.

In all honesty she’d needed to be alone. Her friends didn’t know about her hostile past and she simply couldn’t bring herself to tell them. Vanessa couldn’t bear to see the disap-pointment, disbelief and shock in their eyes if they found out the truth.

No. Getting out of the house all by herself was the only way she could exorcise the demon plaguing her. She refused to stay home and cower under the covers simply because she’d gotten the news she’d spent fourteen years dreading. Come what may, she was going to live her life.

Drink. Dance. Forget.

Determinedly she motioned at her empty glass for another shot of tequila, and Julio returned to give her a refill. She swallowed it back with a tight-lipped grimace, this time forgoing the salt and lime.

What she needed to forget wasn’t pretty and her method of forgetting shouldn’t be pretty, either. It would take some-thing raw and primal and elemental to blot out the past on a day like today.

But the tequila wasn’t working.

In spite of the delicious heat searing straight to her brain, she remembered all too well that ugly night a little over fourteen years ago.

The night she’d witnessed a murder.

Vanessa shuddered and shoved away the memory.

Today had begun like any other weekday morning. Up at 4:00 a.m. to get dressed and head over to Confidential Reju-venations. Grab a breakfast protein bar to eat in the car on the way. Prepare for her surgeries that usually started at six-thirty. The governor’s wife’s face-lift had gone splendidly, as had the nose job on an up-and-coming young Austin celebutante. Lunch had been an uneventful Cobb salad with low-fat rasp-berry vinaigrette, rye crisps, a fruit bowl for dessert and a bottle of Evian in the hospital cafeteria. Her follow-up ap-pointments in the clinic had been run-of-the-mill.

And then her cell phone had rung and she’d heard a voice she hadn’t heard in years. A voice she’d prayed never to hear again. A voice that had shaken her to the core.

Even now the memory of the phone call had her hand trembling and her heart racing.

It’s not finished, a man had said. You owe me fourteen years of my life.

Drink. Dance. Forget.

The mariachi band trooped past her as they returned to the stage from the side door after their smoke break. They smelled of tobacco and marijuana and alcohol. Grinning knowingly at each other, they picked up their instruments and began to play a familiar dance tune with sexually sugges-tive lyrics.

It was the perfect song for her mood. Fast and hot. Vanessa smiled and licked her lips. Now all she needed was a dance partner.

She scanned the room for possibilities.

A minute later, she spotted him sitting in a darkened corner nursing a beer. Light skin, blond hair. His Nordic ethnicity stood out starkly in a roomful of Latinos. Not to mention that he was jaw-droppingly handsome.

For a brief, startling moment, his eyes drilled into hers.

Delicious bedroom eyes. Brilliant, blue and yet strangely brooding. Sultry, enigmatic eyes that both roused her curiosity and inspired her lust.

She studied him through the smoky haze. He possessed rugged masculine features that would make other men think twice about crossing him and he looked like a person who planned everything. She imagined he laid out the clothes he would wear in the morning the night before, hooking a wooden coat hanger laden with his pressed chinos and starched chambray shirt on the bedroom doorknob. Crisp new boxer shorts and rolled up socks stuffed inside his shoes.

Vanessa tilted her head. No, she decided. He wore briefs. He just seemed the tighty-whities type. Straight and narrow. Traditional. A good boy lurking behind that hard-ass mask.

The pulse at the hollow of her throat fluttered, and Vanessa’s fingertips itched to trace the lines of his unyield-ing chin. To run her fingers through that thick shock of blond hair. To test his lips to see if they were as hard as they looked.

The thought sent her imagination soaring. In spite of her miserable day, Vanessa smiled. She hadn’t had sex in months, and he was looking more and more like an ideal candidate to help her forget.

He was different from the other men in the bar. He didn’t stare at her the way they did, but he was paying attention. It sounded illogical and maybe she was fooling herself, but he looked like a man she could trust.

Stupid, that thought.

But the expression in his eyes wasn’t one of lust so much as concern. As if he somehow knew exactly what she needed and was more than willing to provide it. Scary.

Drink. Dance. Forget.

Then he quickly glanced away, dropping her gaze as if it was a hot lava rock. As if he had something to hide and he was afraid that if she looked too long into his eyes, she would figure out what it was.

Odd, this strange, inexplicable tugging that pulled her toward him.

Intrigued, Vanessa decided this was a man she simply had to know better. He looked like her ticket to oblivion.

And she intended to seduce him.

SHE WAS DEFINITELY the woman he was looking for.

Tanner Doyle didn’t even need to consult the photograph he carried in the pocket of his jacket. Her beautiful face wasn’t one a man easily forgot. And her slight resemblance to his dead wife made her doubly memorable.

Not to mention that today was the fourth anniversary of Maria’s death.

Maria.

Tanner strummed the pad of his thumb along the back of his bare ring finger. God, how he missed her.

Briefly he closed his eyes, tamped down the grief he couldn’t seem to shake. Maria wouldn’t want him to grieve this hard, this long. She’d want him to let her go, get on with his life. But that was easier said than done.

Especially today.

He swallowed back the remains of the beer he’d ordered from the cocktail waitress after he’d followed the woman into Emilio’s. His drink had gone warm in the meantime and tasted darkly bitter. Tanner didn’t even like beer, but Maria had been a Dos Equis fan, which was why he’d ordered it.

Don’t think about Maria, do your work.

Even though it entailed shadowing a woman who looked like Maria.

She doesn’t look that much like Maria, he argued with himself.

Sure, they were both tanned, black-haired beauties with deep brown eyes and wide, generous mouths, but Maria had been petite, just over five feet. This woman was statuesque. At least five-eleven even without those stilettos. With them, they would probably stand eye to eye.

Maria had possessed a small chin, heart-shaped face and button nose. Vanessa Rodriquez had a strong jaw, oval face and regal nose that lent her a queenly air.

He’d seen the drunk at the bar mouth off to her with some smart-assed sexual comment, and Tanner had also noticed how quickly and effectively she’d shut him down with one stern look and a barb from her sharp tongue. Whenever he looked at Vanessa Rodriquez, the word formidable sprang to mind.

She slid off the bar stool as the band struck up a fast-paced dance tune, the hem of her sexy red dress swirling against her firm thighs as she walked. She was heading straight toward him.

When Tanner realized this, he set his beer on the table and straightened in his chair.

Had she figured out he was following her? If so, his employer was going to be pissed that she’d spotted him so easily. What kind of security expert was he?

How had she spotted him so easily?

You’re off your game tonight.

She stopped at his table, held his gaze.

Unnerved but determined not to show any weakness, Tanner latched on to her bold stare.

She extended her hand. “Dance with me.”

Restraint had him hesitating a fraction of a second. He’d already screwed up by letting her get a bead on him and he didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than he already had and risk blowing his cover. But then again, he didn’t want her going on to the next guy—who could very possibly be the person he’d been secretly hired to protect her from. “How do you know I can dance?”

She eyed him up and down. “You look graceful.”

“Just what every guy wants to hear.”

Her soft laughter sounded like wind rustling through cot-tonwood leaves.

Actually, he did know how to dance. In college Tanner’s football coach had made his players take lessons to improve their balance and agility on the field. It had worked. During his senior year, the University of Texas Longhorns had won the Southwest Conference.

She just stood there, one hand cocked on her shapely hip, her other palm held out for him to accept, a challenging quirk raising one perfectly arched eyebrow, her long, dark eye-lashes lowering seductively.

It was his duty to watch over her. What better way to accomplish that than to dance with her?

Tanner took her hand and got to his feet in one fluid movement, pushing his chair back with a bump of his thigh. He shouldn’t have noticed the sensuous curve of her breasts beneath the silky fabric of her low-cut dress.

But he did.

And in spite of his best intentions, he couldn’t stop his gaze from roving over the lush, golden skin of her cleavage. She smelled as enticing as she looked. A tropical combination of coconut, vanilla and lime.

This attraction seemed surreal. He hadn’t felt the slightest interest in a woman in four long years.

Oddly enough, he resented Vanessa for stirring his dormant desires. It didn’t feel right; he felt as if he was cheating on Maria.

His desire tasted like wine. Oaken and loamy and lingering and more real than the taste of the beer he’d been drinking. One sip of sin and the daydream started—of long summer nights and sweaty flesh pressed hotly together.

Vanessa walked backward, swishing her hips, leading him out onto the patio-sized dance floor that was empty except for a young couple wrapped in the throes of a passionate embrace. The couple wasn’t even bothering to dance. They just rhythmically groped each other in time to the music.

Reluctant to draw her too near to him, Tanner draped one arm around her shoulder instead of her waist as he would have done if they were intimate. He had to do something to moderate his escalating temperature or he’d have no control over his natural masculine response.

But the maneuver didn’t work because her dark hair was swinging provocatively at the level of those fabulous breasts as she swayed her hot little fanny to the bouncy beat. She had the moves of a total pro and every gaze in the place was glued to her.

“You don’t have to dance so far away, big man,” she murmured, her eyes bright and direct.

She wasn’t shy about expressing what she wanted. Tanner liked that about her, but he wasn’t eager to hold her soft feminine curves against his body. He didn’t trust this unexpected surge of testosterone blistering through him.

Didn’t trust it and didn’t want it.

But the feeling wasn’t fleeting.

She wriggled closer, forcing him to drop his hand from her shoulder to the middle of her back. He could feel the outline of her bra and experienced curiosity, longing and annoyance with himself.

“I was right,” she said.

“About what?”

“You are a good dancer.”

“I’m out of practice,” he said.

“So am I.”

“You don’t come here often?”

She shook her head. “You?”

“First time,” he admitted.

“I thought you looked out of your element.”

“You, on the other hand, look like you own the place,” he said. “But then again, I bet you look like that wherever you go.”

“Not hardly,” she said.

He could tell by the faint smile playing at the corners of her lips that he’d pleased her. He hadn’t been trying to flatter—he’d merely spoken the truth as he saw it—but it delighted him to know she was charmed.

The band morphed into a slower tune. More people drifted onto the dance floor, pushing them closer together.

Their hips touched.

Tanner heard her sudden, sharp intake of breath. The trumpet player wailed a mournful note that slid right down his spine and lodged in the center of his chest. The resonant vibrations throbbed through him, pounding rhythmically with each beat of his heart.

The yeasty flavor of beer lay on his tongue, mixed with the pungency of his desire. It tasted as taboo as this closeness felt. His eyes fixed on Vanessa’s raspberry-colored mouth and he found himself wondering what she tasted like. Tequila and lime, for sure, but beyond that he had the unfathomable notion she also tasted of piquant mystery and salty pathos.

A light sheen of perspiration dewed her forehead.

He had a snapshot image of her tangled in his bedsheets, her head cradled on his pillow, hair fanned out like an inky pool as she gazed up at him with the same glistening gleam slicking her brow. He imagined her lips puckered in a playful pout, her long legs drawn up beneath her, the pink of her perky nipples peeping at him above the covers. The vision was startling, unexpected and erotic.

He shook his head, dispelling the picture. It was bad enough he was dancing with her; he wasn’t going to give in to sexual fantasies.

But it had been so long since he’d held a woman in his arms. Felt the sweet curve of soft female flesh. Smelled the scent of freshly shampooed feminine hair. Tasted lust this strong on his tongue.

And it was a damned shame because she was out of his reach even if she was nestled in the crook of his arm. He felt like a kid with his nose pressed up against the front windowpane of a locked toy store, yearning for what lay beyond, but unable to get inside.

“What’s your name?” Tanner asked, figuring that was what a regular guy would do under the circumstances. But he wasn’t a regular guy. He was her bodyguard. Even if she didn’t know it. “My name is—”

“Shh.” She pressed her index finger against her lips. “No names. Let’s not ruin the fantasy. I just want to dance.”

Good enough. The more Tanner said, the more likely he was to reveal his reason for being there.

He spun her across the dance floor, carrying her away on the moment, the music. They moved as one unit. Gliding and swaying. Sliding and twirling.

This whole thing was strange, surreal, seductive.

Tanner understood that he was making a big mistake, that by just dancing with her something inside of him was changing, but he couldn’t think of a graceful way to bow out. Didn’t know how to stop.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and his heart jumped.

He made a strangled noise, half groan, half sigh.

She tilted her chin, angling her head to give him a sideways glance. The movement, languid and curious, was identical to the way Maria used to look at him when she was in a romantic mood.

Tanner’s gut twisted and he suppressed a panicky urge to turn and flee.

A strand of midnight-black hair fell across her face and she tucked it behind her ear, studded with a ruby earring that matched the color of her dress. She smelled like sophistication from the way she held herself to her perfectly manicured nails to her cologne that smelled of forbidden secrets and starlit tropical nights.

The deal was he knew she was a fake. Knew the sophistication was all an act, something she’d developed rather than been born with. He admired her ability to pull it off with such smooth cool.

The song the band was playing was so slow in tempo that he and Vanessa were barely moving. He tightened his hand around her waist, breathed in the scent of her. All he could hear was the sound of his blood rushing pell-mell through his ears.

He peered into her eyes and caught a glimpse of it. The raw fear. The utter vulnerability. The real reason she was here.

In that instant the sophistication was completely gone. It didn’t matter than she had a Mensa IQ or that she had learned to navigate the world of the rich and powerful successfully. She was still that scared kid who’d been forever marked by a very rocky early life.

That naked, vulnerable expression told him she was trying to blot out the awful news she must have gotten today. The same news that had spurred Tanner’s employer to hire him, the news that must have rattled her secure little world.

Carlo Vega, the man who’d vowed to get even with Vanessa Rodriquez for testifying against him fourteen years earlier, had been paroled from prison.

The woman was hurting.

And was using Tanner to blunt her pain.

He understood. His protective instincts kicked into overdrive. He wanted to tell her everything would be all right. That she wasn’t alone. That he was here now and no one would ever hurt her again.

But, of course, he couldn’t say that. The man who had hired Tanner had been adamant. Vanessa could not know she was being guarded.

He gazed at her, trying to tell her with his eyes what he could not say with his mouth. I’m here for you. I’ll keep you safe.

What she read in his face must have scared her even more than Carlo Vega’s release. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open and for one brief second she looked absolutely terrified.

Then just as quickly as she had let it fall down, she zipped her guard back up, locking herself inside her tower, hiding her emotions beneath those dark eyelashes. He wondered what it would take to scale that fortress.

“I’m thirsty,” she said matter-of-factly, pulling out of his arms and stepping away from him so quickly she almost collided with another couple. He took her elbow and guided her off the dance floor, but the way her muscles tensed beneath his fingers, he could tell she didn’t appreciate his proprietary touch.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked, dropping his hand.

Her gaze darted toward the bar. “I have a drink.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

“No, no,” she said. “I can get it myself.”

Tanner’s eyes met hers again. “Am I being dismissed? Did I do something wrong?”

“Nothing. It was a nice dance. Thank you.” She smiled with her mouth but not with her eyes.

“I am being dismissed.”

She laughed a sound of nervousness, not humor. “I’m just tired of dancing.”

“Is there something else you’d like to do instead?” He didn’t mean to sound suggestive, but he heard the innuendo in his voice and instantly cringed. “I mean,” he hurried to amend, “like play pool? Or shuffleboard? Darts, maybe?”

“I think it’s time I called it a night,” she said, walking away from him, heading toward the bar.

“Do you think that’s wise?” he asked.

Vanessa halted, looked back over her shoulder at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’ve had two shots of tequila in under two hours.”

Suspicion descended over her face like a heavy curtain. “You were watching me?”

“The entire bar was watching you,” he said. It was true enough. “You shouldn’t be driving. Maybe we could go to the hotel down the street, next block over, and grab a late dinner in their restaurant. They stay open until eleven on weekends.”

“I don’t drink and drive,” she said. “I took a taxi. When I plan to drink, I think ahead.”

He knew that. He’d followed her here from her condo, but he couldn’t show that he knew it.

“But,” she said, “I am hungry.” Then she raked a glance over him like a very naughty girl and licked her lips. “So I accept your offer of dinner.”

Whoa, Tanner thought as he stared into her dark, enigmatic eyes.

How had he ended up here? Nothing about this evening had gone according to plan. He was getting in over his head and he realized too late that he’d forgotten how to swim.

Chapter 2

“I’M IN THE MOOD FOR STEAK,” Vanessa told her dinner companion as they sat in the hotel dining room. At this late hour there was only a handful of other diners in the place. “I don’t normally eat red meat, but tonight I’m feeling—”

“Like you need to bolster your courage?” he finished.

That wasn’t what she was going to say at all, but it was the truth. Taken aback, Vanessa stared at him.

The man’s unsettling blue eyes held her own over the flickering candles in the middle of the white linen tablecloth. She had an urge to put up her dukes in a boxing stance.

“Why did you say that?” she asked.

“Going to a nightclub you don’t often frequent, dancing with a stranger, then joining him for dinner. Now ordering steak. Do you want to talk about it?”

Irritation sideswiped her like transfer paint in a fender bender. Vanessa swallowed, arranged her face into a smile. Was she that transparent or was he that perceptive? “I changed my mind. I do want to know your name. But only your first name.”

“Why’s that?”

“Last names complicate things.”

“Tanner,” he said. “How ’bout you?”

She extended her hand across the table. “Vanessa.”

He shook her hand. His palm was warm in hers, calloused. These were not the pampered hands of a surgeon, the type of men she usually dated. These hands knew manual labor.

The waitress appeared at their table with two glasses of water.

“Two tenderloin steaks.” Tanner looked at Vanessa, “Medium?”

“Medium rare,” she supplied to be perverse. She did prefer her steaks cooked medium, but she didn’t like him guessing that about her.

“Two coffees, steaks medium rare and the sautéed vegetables,” he told the waitress and handed her their menus.

She frowned, not knowing why she was feeling so argumentative and yet so interested.

“Why are you trying so hard to look so tough?” he asked.

“Who says I’m not tough?” She hardened her jaw, sat up straighter in the seat and gave him her best barrio-girl expression.

“That cross-me-and-you-die look in your eyes.”

“You don’t think I’m serious?”

He shook his head. “Oh, you’re tough on the outside, but inside—” he thumped his right fist over his heart “—you feel deep.”

A sense of vulnerability wrapped her in a sweaty hug. She made a derisive noise even though she would like very much to feel him inside her. “Is this your best pickup line?”

The notion was unexpected but intriguing. One night in bed with this tall drink of water might just be the antidote she needed to quell thoughts of Carlo Vega. She found Tanner far more appealing than she should. Everything about him was sexy, even the proprietary way he’d ordered for her.

“You picked me up, remember?”

She had indeed. “And now you think you know everything about me.”

“Not everything.” He took a sip of water. “But I’d like to know more.”

Yeah, she’d like to know more about him, too. But why? She wasn’t in the market for a serious relationship, or any relationship for that matter. She still had a year to go on her residency and it required all her dedication and concentration. But one glorious night with the studly Viking here? Oh, yeah.

The waitress, clad in a simple uniform of black slacks and a white silk blouse, brought their order, rescuing Vanessa from having to answer the question in his piercing blue eyes. She couldn’t help wondering what he would think if he knew the truth about her. Where she was from. The things she’d done to survive and make her way in the world. And that nothing mattered more to her than her career.

“Did you used to be a Boy Scout?” she asked to derail him.

He stopped buttering his roll and looked at her. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged. “You just look like a Boy Scout. Blond. Clean-cut. Perfect posture.”

“Yes,” he said. “I was a Boy Scout. Even earned a good conduct medal.” His grin was self-deprecating. “Were you ever a Girl Scout?”

In the barrio?

“So what do you do for fun?” he asked, cutting into his steak. “When you’re not dancing at Emilio’s?”

“I don’t have much free time. The closest I come to a hobby is my daily jog.” Vanessa cut into her own steak. “And once in a rare while I get to indulge my passion for old movies.”

“Ah,” he said. “A workaholic.”

She eyed his biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt. She wished she had X-ray vision so she could see the delineation of each strata of those muscles. “I can see you’re not a slacker in the exercise department. What do you do to keep your guns in shape?”

He smiled and flexed his upper arms. The man had every reason in the world to be proud of his spectacular physique. “Power lifting. But for fun, I kayak the Colorado. You ever been?”

“No,” she admitted. Not much opportunity for kayaking where she came from. “But it sounds like fun.”

“Maybe I’ll take you sometime.”

Hope coiled tight inside her. Sometime. Ha! There’d be no other time with him. Now was all she could afford and even this was risky. She ducked her head, busied herself with spearing a bit of juicy tenderloin. “So you’re a Texan?”

“Born and raised,” he said.

“Where’s your hometown?”

“Right here in Austin. You?”

“El Paso.”

“What brought you to Austin? Boyfriend? Husband?”

“Is this your way of asking if I’m attached?”

His eyes darkened. “Hey, no guy likes ugly surprises when he’s out with a pretty woman.”

The comment made her smile. “I’m single,” she said. “Never married.”

“I’m single, as well.” Tanner nodded, but he had a strange look on his face, almost as if he were lying. “So you’re in Austin because…”

Here he was asking the question she dreaded most. Vanessa gave him the pat answer that was only partly the truth. “Med school.”

The minute the words were out of her mouth, she could have bitten off her tongue. She hadn’t wanted him to know she was a doctor. A lot of guys got weird when they found out what she did for a living. Many of them felt challenged by a smart, successful woman.

“You’re a doctor?” He sounded impressed.

“Resident.”

“I see why you don’t have much time for fun.”

“Work does take up most of my time.”

“So what is your favorite classic movie, when you have time to indulge your passion?” he asked.

“Dark Victory,” she said without hesitation.

“You go for the tearjerkers.”

“Tearjerkers are more like real life.”

“Which is exactly why some people like to escape into comedies.”

“Let me guess, you’re a Three Stooges fan,” she said. “Or maybe the Marx Brothers?”

“Actually, “ he admitted, “when it comes to classic movies, it’s John Wayne all the way.”

“I should have guessed.” She smiled. “What’s your fav? Rio Bravo?”

“McLintock!”

“Seriously?”

“I’m a sucker for romance. Plus Maureen O’Hara was pretty easy on the eyes. I have a thing for feisty women.” He winked.

Suddenly she had a hard time catching her breath.

The conversation lagged and Vanessa didn’t try to stir it. Strangely enough, the silence between them didn’t feel awkward at all. It felt nice. Natural.

They finished their meal and lingered over a cup of coffee.

“What’s your specialty?” Tanner asked.

“Specialty?” She was so busy staring at his impressively broad shoulders, his question caught her off guard and for a minute there she thought he was asking her a very personal question.

“Pediatrics, internal medicine, heart surgeon?”

“Cosmetic and reconstructive surgery.”

“Really?” His tone sounded almost accusatory.

She bristled. “Something wrong with plastic surgery?”

“Settle down,” he said. “The question wasn’t a shot against your chosen career. You just seem like you’d be a pediatrician.”

“Why? Because I’m a woman? You just assume I’d be good with kids?” She knew she sounded defensive. She didn’t even know why she was reacting this way.

Tanner held up his palms. “I surrender. I can see I’m snugged up behind the eight ball on this one.”

He looked so contrite, Vanessa laughed. “Well, thanks for having dinner with me, Tanner,” she said, opening her wallet to pull out enough cash to cover the cost of her meal.

His hand closed over hers. “Dinner is on me.”

“No,” she said and lifted her chin proudly. “I always pay my own way.”

He didn’t argue, just let go of her hand. Vanessa suddenly realized she was breathless. “All right,” he said. “If you insist. But then at least let me give you a ride home.”

“I’ll catch a cab.”

“Beholden to no one,” he said lightly.

“That’s right.”

He studied her for a long moment. “Doesn’t it ever get exhausting?”

“What?”

“Never letting anyone help you. Always going it alone.”

“I’ve been beholden to people before,” she said. “There are always strings attached. I prefer life without any ties that bind.”

“So you don’t have any family.”

“No.”

“Don’t you ever get lonely?

Yes.

The man was too perceptive. It unnerved her that he could assess her so easily, how much he seemed to understand.

Vanessa swung her purse strap up on her shoulder and pushed back her chair. “Nice dance, nice meal, have a nice life, Tanner.”

She got to her feet, her movements tense and jerky. She felt so many conflicting things at once—nervousness, disappointment, sexual frustration—and he was the cause of it all.

Not really. Carlo Vega has a lot to do with you ending up here.

“What’s your hurry, Vanessa?”

She wished she’d given him a fake name. The sound of her name on his tongue, spoken in that deep, arresting voice, did funny things to her insides. “It’s late,” she said. “I gotta go.”

Without a backward glance, she hurried from the hotel restaurant, pushing through the revolving glass door and ending up on the vacant street.

The wind had kicked up while they’d been inside, tossing litter and leaves along the sidewalk. Lightning lit the sky in the distance. Thunder rumbled. An unseasonable rainstorm on the way.

Goose bumps raised on her arms. Who would have thought she’d need long sleeves in August in Austin?

She walked to the front of the hotel entrance, but there were no cabs at the cab stand. She stood underneath the streetlamp, glancing up and down the block. No taxi in sight, but surely one would be along in a minute. No sign of the valet, either. She paced to the end of the block, feeling like a target in her red dress and high heels. Maybe she should wait in the hotel lobby.

And risk running into Tanner again? No thank you. She had the feeling if she saw him again she’d throw all caution to the wind and ask him to take her home with him.

Where was a taxi?

“Come on, come on,” she muttered and glanced at her watch. She remembered other late nights, other lonely streets and her gut squeezed.

Footsteps sounded behind her and her heart froze. She fumbled for the mace in her purse and found it.

With the mace in her palm, finger on the nozzle, she whirled around, growling, “Back off!”

Tanner raised both arms. “Don’t shoot.”

“Oh,” she said and let out a breath. “It’s you.”

“Storm got you spooked?”

“A little,” she said, dropping the mace back inside her handbag. She hated to admit it, but she was relieved to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you stand out here alone? Are you sure I can’t give you a lift home?”

In the time it took her to draw in a deep breath, she considered his offer, but she was intensely private and didn’t like strangers knowing where she lived.

No, but you’ll dance with a stranger and have dinner with him.

That wasn’t normally true, which was what was so unsettling about this man. He made her want to do lots of things she normally wouldn’t do.

Lightning flashed again, moving closer, rapidly followed by more grumbling thunder. Fat raindrops spattered the cement around them.

“Let’s go back in out of the rain,” he said, and inclined his head toward the hotel.

The combination of his hard body, his delicious masculine smell and the quickening raindrops were too compelling to deny. She nodded. They pushed through the double doors together and ended up inside.

Vanessa couldn’t deny she was attracted to the man. She loved that he was taller than she. At five eleven, it was often a challenge to find a man whose height surpassed her own. Even with the two-inch stilettos she wore, he was still taller. He made her feel petite, which was an alien feeling. She wanted him and that was damned dangerous considering how emotionally vulnerable she was right now.

He said nothing. Just stood waiting beside her. A powerful, comforting presence. He felt like a bodyguard. Strong, silent, but muscles coiled, ready for action. They stared out the window, watching the rain coming down. She was so aware of him, her skin prickled.

“Really,” she said. “You don’t have to wait with me.”

“I don’t mind.”

The earnestness in his eyes unnerved her. Why did he have to be so nice? She wasn’t accustomed to the men she met in bars being so chivalrous. Neither was she accustomed to the rampant fantasies circling in her head. She kept imagining him hot and hard and naked.

Oh, God, it had been far too long since she’d gotten laid. She was a hormonal disaster. All it would take was one kiss from those rugged lips of his and she’d melt like candle wax. And judging from the look he was giving her, he knew it.

“You want to go back to Emilio’s?” she found herself asking. “I could use another drink.”

“A drink isn’t what you need,” he said.

She dared to look him in the face. There was no mistaking the glimmer in his eyes. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

The air around them snapped with sexual energy. His gaze hung on her mouth and he angled his head lower.

Was he going to kiss her? Right here in the lobby with the desk clerks watching them from the registration counter?

She could see the invitation in his eyes, but he wasn’t crossing any boundaries. She flicked a tongue out to lick her lips, egging him toward that kiss.

“There’s a taxi.” He nodded toward the street.

“Is there?”

“Which is a damned good thing, but I was just about to ask you to stay.”

“Were you?”

Vanessa knew a crossroad when she saw one. Take the well-traveled fork and you knew you could stay safe. Take the fork that disappeared into the undergrowth, and while there might be adventure, you were also taking a big gamble.

It was stupid. She knew it as she was doing it, but all she could think of at the moment was how his eyes promised the pleasure of great sex. Sex that would help her forget all about the lousy day she’d had.

She wrapped a hand around his forearm. “So ask.”

He blew out his breath and pulled from her grasp, but he took hold of her chin and tipped her face up to his.

Outside the thunder boomed.

Vanessa’s heart galloped.

Tanner brushed his lips over hers. Not so much a kiss as the inherent promise of one.

All the air left her body.

Then he dipped his head lower and lightly pressed his mouth to the pulse beating in her throat. Heat shot through her body, pooling low in her abdomen. The first pinch of pure passion fisted inside her.

“Tanner.” Her voice came out in a choked whisper.

His lips were back on hers in a feather-soft kiss, and Vanessa simply had to have more. Against all common sense, she curved her body against his and opened her mouth. He inhaled sharply and slipped his tongue between her teeth. She came undone.

Languid heat curled through her body. Was it so wrong to sate the yearning sexual needs she’d been holding at bay for such a long time? Would it be so terrible to have a one-night stand with this man? They were both mature, consenting adults. They were both unattached and attracted to each other. What could possibly be the harm in letting nature take its course?

He deepened the kiss, breaking the last tenuous thread of restraint she’d managed to hang on to until this moment. Why not? As long as she kept her heart out of the fray, as long as she accepted this for what it was—a one-night fling—everything would be all right.

No expectations, no regrets, just mutual pleasure giving and receiving. She was a physician. Vanessa was aware of how important a healthy sex life was to mind, body and spirit.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. The question was there. He was waiting for her to answer it.

“Tanner.” She breathed. “Get us a room.”

He studied her face, his hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret. Are you certain this is what you want?”

She didn’t know where the word came from, but it was completely heartfelt. “Absolutely.”

FUMBLING, TANNER TRIED to slip the electronic key through the card reader while still kissing Vanessa. After three attempts and a couple of well-timed curse words, he got the door open and they tumbled inside.

Vanessa giggled. Funny, she didn’t seem like a giggler. It was probably the tequila.

The door slammed closed behind them.

Her mouth was on his and her arms were around his neck and they were sort of dancing around the room. They fell onto the bed. Tanner was on his back. Vanessa straddled him.

She tugged his shirt from his pants and plowed her hands underneath the hem to plane her palms over his belly. Then she lowered her head and planted hot kisses around his navel.

His body burst into flames. His blood burned and his cock throbbed. He hadn’t been with a woman in four years. Not since Maria. He told himself that’s why he was so hard, so blindsided by lust. He couldn’t even think straight. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He was her secret bodyguard and he was about to screw the woman he’d been hired to protect.

He was breaking the number one rule of the bodyguard’s code: Don’t get sexually involved with your protectee.

But the sweet, intoxicating smell of her warm body and the taste of her hot lips and the feel of her soft flesh made him forget his job. At the moment he was all male, awash in testosterone and desperate to have this woman.

She traced her thumbs over his nipples and Tanner groaned aloud. He grabbed her hips and pressed her flush against his pelvis, letting her see exactly what she was doing to him.

The bedsprings creaked beneath their weight. He didn’t care how noisy it got. He had to have her or go mad.

He flipped her over, pinning her to the pillow-top mattress, and speared his fingers through her mass of lush black hair, holding her in place while he ravaged her mouth with kisses.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, simultaneously opening her mouth and letting in his tongue. She tasted incredible. Rich and robust and sexy.

“I want you, Tanner. I want to feel you, all of you,” she murmured against his mouth.

“We’ve got all night. Let’s take our time,” he said, as much to convince himself as well as her. What he wanted was to hike up the hem of her skirt, strip off her panties and plunge right into her.

Not since Maria had a woman made him so hard. Who was he kidding? Until Vanessa, he hadn’t even thought of another woman. This felt strange but good. Healthy to be able to feel something again.

It’s neither good nor healthy. You’ve been hired to protect her. You’ve got to stop this.

It was a rational thought, but the ability for any rational action was lost when she angled her head up to take his earlobe between her teeth and nibbled.

Outside the storm raged. Rain pelted hard against the thirdstory window. The scarlet-neon hotel sign threw a red glow into the room. Vanessa’s smile was wickedly naughty as she dropped her head back to the mattress and looked up at him, her lips glistening.

She splayed a palm against the flat of his chest and pushed him away.

“What is it?” he rasped huskily. “Have you changed your mind?”

“Sit,” Vanessa commanded, getting to her feet and patting the mattress with her hand.

Tanner obeyed.

She stepped away from him and in that soft red glowing light slanting through the window, she slowly begin to disrobe, sliding down the zipper of her dress, easing the capped sleeves over her shoulders, exposing inch after tantalizing inch of light caramel skin.

He gulped. What a show.

Finally, the silky dress floated down her body to pool at her feet. She stepped out of the garment, but Tanner didn’t notice. He was too busy staring at the hot vision of her in a black lace bra molded to her high, sumptuous breasts.

His hands tingled with the need to touch her, to fill his palms with the weight of her bosom. He wanted to run his tongue over her skin, taste her rich womanly flavor. He wanted her in the most elemental way. At least for tonight, for this moment. She was the antidote to his malaise.

Tanner’s attention fully captured, his gaze tracked from her chest to the smooth curve of her belly to her black satin thong panties, clinging so provocatively to her sweet, luscious ass.

Then slowly she raised one leg and cocked her stilettoed foot on his thigh, the thin heel digging lightly into him. “Undo me.”

His fingers felt big as sausages as he fumbled with the delicate buckle at her slender ankle.

Her breathing was shallow and quick.

The buckle was stubborn.

Not looking so smooth, slick.

In irritation, Tanner slipped the strap under her heel and just peeled the shoe off her foot, leaving the buckle still fastened. He tossed the shoe over his shoulder. It landed with a plop on the other side of the room.

“Give me,” he said, indicating her other foot.

She complied, putting her bare foot on the floor and extending her other leg across his outstretched palm. Touching the sensuous curve of her calf proved more than Tanner could handle—he had to have her now. He dispensed with the second shoe, then wrapped his hand around that delicious calf and lay back against the headboard, pulling her with him.

Vanessa made a soft noise of half surprise, half pleasure. She was atop him again and his arms went around her waist. Her breasts were pressed against his chest and her head was cocked back.

She was ogling him as if he was something interesting she’d found in a novelty store. Her look was both unsettling and provocative.

His fingers went for the clasp of her bra.

She reached back and closed a hand over his fingers. “Not so fast, Tex. It’s your turn to remove an article of clothing.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement than that.

Tanner pulled his shirt over his head without bothering to unbutton it, and toed off his shoes. Her fingers were plucking at the waistband of his pants, working the snap and zipper almost simultaneously.

She shucked the pants down his legs, Tanner lifting his hips to help. His slacks quickly joined her dress on the floor. He and Vanessa were left in their underwear staring into each other’s eyes.

Sharp appreciation increased Vanessa’s awareness as she drank in Tanner’s muscular body. The man was a work of art.

A flash of lightning flooded the room in split-second illumination, emphasizing the intensity of what was happening between them. A myriad of sensations pelted her. The sound of his ragged breathing. The heat of his flesh. The scrape of his beard stubble as he claimed her mouth in another kiss.

Passion surged high within her, increasing the sexual drive that had been building since their dance at Emilio’s.

He tasted robust and piquant, like the roasted coffee they had shared at dinner. She was thirsty for more.

Their tongues played, gliding in and around and over each other. The tender slide of his palms underneath her breasts as he made her bra disappear became a hungry hunt to increase her pleasure.

The burning urge to stroke him, to travel the tempting terrain of his body compelled her.

She ran her fingertips over his belly, exalting in the way his taut stomach muscles quivered at her touch. His low groan lit her up inside. She tracked her hand lower, finding her way through the coarse curls to glide her palm up the long, hard length of him.

Excitement stirred her blood. A murmured whisper of delight slipped past her lips at the sexy feel of him pulsating in her hand.

Her body clenched, anxious to have him inside her, filling her up, making her whole, but she didn’t want to rush things. She wanted to savor this moment, savor him. It took every ounce of will she possessed, but Vanessa forced herself to hold back. She knew he was worth the wait.

He eased her hand from his shaft and pulled his mouth from hers. “You keep doing that and I won’t last two minutes.”

Tanner kissed his way down her neck to her swollen and achy breasts. His mouth settled over one straining nipple, sending a coil of heat firing like an inferno into her blood.

Her body grew heavier, more languorous until it seemed to liquefy into his. He forsook her nipples and returned to making idle circles around her breasts, until once more he was back, pulling and plucking the straining peaks.

She writhed against him.

He circled back.

This time she moaned through clenched teeth when he reached her nipples at last and rolled them between his rough fingers.

Her breath came out in low gasps and her entire body felt aroused. Nibbling her ear, he lifted her up onto his thigh.

His lips tugged on her earlobe. She delighted in the sensation as he began to suckle on her flesh and the ruby stud nestled there. She shuddered at the wetness of his tongue, the heat of his mouth.

He spread his legs and, in the process, pried hers apart with his knee. His hand slid down her breast and across her inner thigh. His other hand gently massaged her buttocks.

Her breathing quickened and her heart thumped.

Flashes of pleasure bombarding her, Vanessa let out a muted purr of confirmation, telling him he was on the right path as he blazed a trail down her torso with his wicked tongue. She felt his hand at the waistband of her panties, his fingertips taunting her by slipping underneath the silky elastic.

“I’m going to love you with my mouth,” he promised, not asking her permission, simply telling her what he was going to do.

His comment shot her arousal to a fevered pitch. His heated breath against her bare belly was driving her insane. His fingertips shifted through her moist curls, headed for the area she most wanted him to touch.

In response, she arched her back.

Come on, come on.

If she didn’t feel the warmth of his hot, wet tongue against her soon, she was going to lose her mind.

Tanner slipped her panties over her hips, slid them down her thighs, past her knees. She kicked them off.

“You smell so sweet.” He inhaled and then placed a smattering of kisses down the area below her navel.

She felt every quiver of her body, every ragged breath.

With excruciating slowness, Tanner moved his hand to cover the triangle of hair between her legs.

Vanessa moaned her pleasure as his hand cupped her gently.

She allowed her legs to drop open, giving him full access to her body. He lay on his belly between her knees and lightly brushed his lips over her feminine folds.

He hissed in air. “You are so wet.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of wonder in his voice. Desire for him seared her nerve endings as she surrendered to him completely.

It wasn’t easy for her. Vanessa wasn’t used to exposing herself like this, neither out of bed nor in it. Ever since she’d escaped Carlo Vega, she’d been in control of her own life. But now passion was forcing her to relinquish the reins to Tanner’s tender tongue. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

The air was thick, weighted with tension. The sheets smelled slightly scorched, as if they’d spent too many minutes in a commercial drier. Her breath crawled sluggishly through her lungs, filling her with lazy heat. Her limbs were made of marble, heavy and smooth.

Then everything vanished from her mind except the erotic moisture of his lips against her throbbing sex. And when his mouth formed a gentle suction over her clit, she came completely unraveled.

Gently he inserted one thick finger inside her tender folds. She lost all sense of herself, all sense of time. The world tumbled, creating an easy glide into ecstasy.

The pressure mounting inside her womb was sublime torment. At that point, nothing else mattered to her except Tanner making love to her with his mouth and his fingers.

He teased her clit, nipping lightly with his teeth.

All the air left her body and she felt reborn. Her pulse pounded like drums in her ears, rushing blood through her veins, pushing her toward an inevitable conclusion.

Tanner was desperately fighting off completion, but it was almost impossible. She knew the soft sounds of her sexy cries, and the way she threaded her fingers through his hair were getting to him.

She wanted him to be inside her. He had to get inside her now. “Please,” she whispered. “Please take me.”

“Not yet.”

Cruel, sweet torment. He kept at her. Licking and teasing until she was shaking from head to toe and oh, so wet.

He paused long enough to retrieve a condom from his wallet and slip it on and with the intermission she felt oddly bereft. He spent a few moments working her up again and then finally, finally he slowly entered her.

Vanessa whimpered gratefully.

Her body enveloped him. She provided him with her heavenly, moist cocoon. She met each of his thrusts with corresponding movement of her hips, arching her back up to meet him. Urging him to quicken his pace.

Instinct took over. She could no longer think, could only feel. Her focus was attuned to one thing and one thing only—the merging of their bodies. His energy swirled up through her until her whole universe spun dizzily. His stark reaction was such a powerful thing to behold. Vanessa felt both awed and blown away by his responsiveness.

His hands trembled as he held her. He thrust into her again and again. Her entire being seemed to pull him deeper and deeper into her until she simply could not differentiate where his body stopped and hers began.

He cried out one last time and shoved himself as deep as he would go into her warmth. The walls of her sucked at him, gripping, kneading, pulling him into the very core of her.

Then Tanner’s body shuddered as he poured into her.

They clung to each other, helpless, as wave after wave of the orgasm rippled through them. Binding them together in one blazing, crazy light before expelling them into the infinite beyond.

Gasping, Tanner rolled over, sinking onto his back and taking her with him.

He held her close as her chest heaved. He held her and they listened to the rain and Vanessa thought, What in the hell have I done?

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