“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he reached around her for the buttons on her blouse. “Delicate, feminine. Sexy.”

“The last one is my favorite,” she admitted as he pulled open the silk blouse but didn’t remove it.

“You’re a huge turn-on. You know that, right?”

Not even on a good day, but she was willing to be convinced.

He reached between her breasts for the catch on her bra. She’d never had a man do this from behind her, pressed against her back, both of them watching. She felt his chin on her shoulder, his breath on her cheek. The bra hook released and the cups slipped back to re veal her modest curves.

She was about to apologize for them when he groaned low in his throat and covered her breasts with his hands.

There was something in the way he touched her—sensually, almost reverently. As if her breasts had somehow made his day. Which she would have thought was crazy if she hadn’t heard his intake of breath and felt his erection surge against her.

He rubbed his palms against her nipples, which was so delicious that she forgot to think, then he dropped one hand between her legs.

There was too much, she thought hazily as he slipped between her curls into the slick, hungry heat. Too many sensations, too many things to watch. He moved his left hand from breast to breast while the fingers of his right explored her, slipping inside, pulling out, then centering on that place right above her opening.

Her chest tightened as all her muscles tensed. He quickly moved her long hair aside and began to nibble on her neck. Thumb and forefinger teased her tight, sensitive nipples. Between her legs he circled around and around. Sensations met, grew, exploded until every part of her body was aroused and on fire and she could only breathe her way through the pleasure. Faster and faster and more and more until her eyes drifted closed and she gave herself up to the—

“Oh, Mac,” she gasped as her body convulsed into orgasm. She clung to him, her hands reaching behind her to grab his hips as she spread her legs more and pushed against his touch, wanting more, wanting it harder and harder and…

The contractions claimed her again. She shuddered and breathed and lost herself in all that he did to her body. When the last waves had faded, she surfaced to find him still gently kissing her neck and rubbing between her legs.

“Wow,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “I like wow.”

As he spoke he stretched out on the bed, drawing her down with him. She turned so she lay on top of him. Her hair spilled down around them both. He was still hard and despite what had just happened, she found herself rubbing against him.

His blue eyes darkened with passion. “I’d like to do that inside of you.”

“Mmm, sounds good.”

She straddled his hips, then pushed up so she could shrug out of her blouse and bra. He fumbled with his belt.

“Maybe I could get naked,” he said as he unfastened his jeans.

“You do that.”

He grinned. “You’re going to have to move.”

She liked looking down at him and feeling his hands bump the inside of her thighs as he pushed at the denim.

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“If you don’t, I can’t be inside.”

As if to demonstrate the plus side of actual entry, he slid one finger inside of her and rotated it.

She sank down, pushing him deeper. Her muscles quivered.

“Okay,” she said, sliding off him. “Good point. Hurry.”

He kicked off his shoes, then pushed down jeans, briefs and socks in one quick movement. “Top drawer,” he said. “Condoms.”

Yikes. Protection. She was still on the Pill, but this wasn’t safe married sex.

Thank God, she thought as she pulled out the unopened box and broke the seal before pulling out a condom. Married sex hadn’t been nearly this exciting and, what with Lyle and his chickie collection, not all that safe.

She turned back to find a very naked Mac lunging for her. He grabbed her around the waist and gently tossed her onto her back. She landed with a bounce and a giggle. She handed over the condom. He bent over and kissed her, not even watching while he slid on the protection, which she thought was a neat trick. Then he was between her legs and things went from funny to fabulous with the first thrust.

He filled her until she thought she might have to scream from how good it was. The feel of his body, the fierce possessiveness of his kiss, the slick friction as he slid in and out in a rhythm designed to make her faint.

It was good. It was better than good, she thought, as she grabbed his hips and drew him all the way in. Then she lost it in a release so unexpected and powerful that she was afraid she was going to pass out. Still, she hung on enough to keep climaxing until he stiffened and shuddered, then broke the kiss long enough to whisper her name.

MAC PUT HIS ARM around Jill as she stretched out next to him, her head on his chest. He felt good being next to her. Really good.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” she said as she stroked up and down the center of his chest. “That would require too much to explain to both Emily and Bev.”

“I don’t think Bev would mind.”

“Probably not. If anything, she’d want details.”

He grimaced. “I don’t want to know if you tell her.”

She shifted so she could rest her chin on his chest and grin at him. “Shy?”

“Scared, as any rational male would be. Guys don’t want to know how much women tell each other. We think it’s weird and a little threatening.”

“Afraid we’ll compare?”

He chuckled. “Of course.”

She sighed and her expression softened. “Oh, honey, you don’t have to worry on that account. You would definitely come in first on my list.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded.

He fingered a strand of her hair. “How long’s the list?”

Her eyes widened, then slammed shut. “Let’s not go there.”

“Why not? Come on, Jill. You can’t have played around that much. I happen to know I’m rebound guy after Lyle, but what about before?”

She opened her eyes. “All right, but first why don’t we talk about how my father would feel if he knew what we’d done?”

He feigned being punched, then rubbed his chin with his free hand. “That one hurt.”

“Poor baby.” She kissed his cheek.

“Fine. We won’t talk about your past,” he said.

“No, we can. There’s not much to say. You threw up the first time you saw me naked.”

“I wish you’d quit bringing that up. I feel like a complete idiot.”

“Good. Eventually we’ll be even.”

He touched her shoulder. “Seriously, Jill. I’m sorry. If I’d been sober enough to take advantage of you…” What? Would their lives have been different? He thought maybe they might have been.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “But Evan really cemented things for me.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “Who’s Evan?”

“My first boyfriend at college. He was sweet and sensitive and a lot of fun.”

“I hate him,” Mac grumbled.

“You shouldn’t, at least not for that. The first time he saw me naked, he announced that he was gay. Apparently my body provided the revelation he needed to figure it all out.”

Mac stared at her. She looked just hurt and embarrassed enough for him to know she was telling the truth.

“No way,” he said, because he couldn’t help himself.

She nodded. “Pretty amazing, huh? The first guy who sees me naked throws up. The second turns gay. Is it any wonder I thought I was in love with the only guy who didn’t react badly to the idea of having sex with me?”

He rolled her onto her back and stared into her eyes. She couldn’t be saying…it wasn’t possible that…

“Lyle is the only other guy you’ve slept with?”

“Counting you? Yes.”

He didn’t know what to say. “But you’re incredible. That’s crazy.”

“I know the odds of it are impressive, but there we are. My life.” She picked at the edge of the sheet. “I think it’s a breast thing. As in I don’t have any.”

“You have beautiful breasts.” He loved them. Their perfect shape, the way her nipples got so tight. The soft skin, the color. Just thinking about them got him hard.

“They’re too small,” she said.

“Large breasts are overrated.”

She smiled. “You’re not a bad liar. I like that.”

He moved close and rubbed himself against her. “Does that feel like a lie?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Actually it does not. All that for me?”

“You and your perfect breasts.” He tugged at the sheet. “Now what does a guy have to do around here to get another shot at proving his point?”

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. “Anything he wants.”

JILL ARRIVED at her office shortly before nine. Despite her lack of sleep and sneaking home shortly after four in the morning, she felt alive, alert and perfectly fulfilled.

Last night had been spectacular. Mac was even more amazing in bed than she’d possibly hoped. He’d made her feel things that probably weren’t legal, not that she was going to complain. As she unlocked the front door and stepped into the reception area, she found she didn’t even mind the fish.

“Good morning,” she said to the nearest one and patted its scaly back. “Everybody sleep well?”

Still smiling and happy, she made her way to the blinking answering machine and pushed the button. While the machine informed her she had two messages, she made a mental note to make sure she was available around eleven. Bev was coming by so they could take the 545 to the parking lot by the dump. Surely all the gravel there would do something to the paint job.

Thirty seconds later she didn’t know if she should laugh, dance, or simply give up. What was it with her life?

Donald, the fisherman/attorney/senior partner, had called to offer her a job, and another firm from L.A. wanted to talk to her about an interview.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE MORNING WAS PERFECT, and driving through town seemed like a great way to spend a piece of his day. Mac left the beaches and turned toward the center of town. It was almost eleven and already the temperature was near eighty. Hot weather meant plenty of customers at the vending carts by the boardwalk and lots of tourists too enchanted to head back to the big city.

The jails were empty, the court schedule light and there were very few clouds on the horizon. For the most part—life was good.

Except for Emily, Mac thought. In the past week he’d thought a lot about what he’d overheard when Jill had taken his daughter for the evening, and he was still at a loss as to how to win his daughter’s trust. He loved her with every fiber of his being, but that wasn’t enough. He vowed to keep trying to convince her he would al ways be there for her.

“Keep showing up,” he told himself. She was eight—didn’t actions speak louder than words?

Their day of sailing had been great. They’d laughed and she’d done a hell of a job steering the boat. But back at the house, she’d still insisted her food match her clothes. He was running out of ideas.

As he turned left, he passed the offices of Dixon and Son. Tina stepped out as he drove by. She waved. He wondered what errands Jill’s secretary had at that time of day and if she would bother returning.

Jill. Now that was one part of his life that worked. Good times, great conversation, lots of laughs, all in the package of an extraordinarily beautiful woman with plenty of smarts. Their night together had been one for the record books and he sure wouldn’t mind a repeat performance. It would have to be soon, he reminded himself. Jill seemed to be getting job offers and interview requests three times a day. The odds were she would accept one and be gone.