“We have a private cottage near the back of the estate. I thought you might like the privacy.”

Her brows rose in question.

Phil’s smile quirked to the side. “That’s not what I meant.”

Taylor’s hand covered his as he started the car. “I know. Thank you.”

He didn’t respond as he turned toward her. There was nothing he could think to say. Taylor shouldn’t thank him. It was her. He should be the one to thank her for applying for the job with the Rawlings family, for bringing a part of him back to life. Hell, not back to life, but to life. She’d shown him that he could do his job, protect those he cared about and still have more.

“Taylor, don’t thank me. I’m totally inept when it comes to what to do here.”

She shook her head. “No, you’re not. You’re giving me exactly what I need. Sometimes more can be said with silent understanding than all the words in the world. If it weren’t for you, I’d be facing this alone.” She leaned near and kissed his cheek. “When it all happened, I never imagined ever again having someone I trusted enough to be there for me.”

He squeezed her hand and put the car into reverse. “Let’s go see this cottage. They promised me it was the best one on the property.”

In no time, Phil was swiping the plastic card against the reader on the door of the quaint Florida styled cottage. The manager at the desk had been right about its isolation. After passing many smaller dwellings, the road narrowed and disappeared into the jungle of cypress. The manicured lawns disappeared as only underbrush could survive the denseness of the vegetation. Then, like lifting of a blanket, the trees parted and a cottage the size of many homes came into view. By the description and map that Phil had been shown, he knew that there was a rear screened-in patio that looked out to a small pond. There were also trails that could take them around the grounds, and back near the main mansion was a stable with horses available for the guests. Not knowing how tomorrow would go, Phil had gone ahead and booked the cottage for multiple nights.

“Oh, my!” Taylor gasped as she stepped into the living room. “This isn’t a cottage; it’s a house.”

Setting down her purse, she roamed from door to door. Everything was open and bright with white tile floors, yellow walls, and colorful cushions gracing the furniture. Each room had large windows offering natural light in the heat of the day. In the kitchen, with a counter that arched toward the living room, Taylor spun completely around. “Look at this kitchen! I wish we were staying longer. I’d love to cook.” She turned her smiling gaze toward Phil. “See what you do to me. That’s not something I ever thought I’d say.”

He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her toward him. “There’s a restaurant at the main mansion that also delivers.” He shrugged. “I also saw a small grocery store about ten minutes from the resort.” Phil scrunched his nose. “Do you know how to cook?”

She slapped his shoulder. “Yes! Just because I haven’t done it in a while doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to do it.”

Taking a step and then two, he backed Taylor against the refrigerator pressing his body against hers. “Hmmm, speaking from experience, lack of recent activity has been no indicator of your level of expertise.” He ran his palms down her arms until their fingers intertwined. “As a matter of fact, I think I like being the one who’s fortunate enough to experience your return to previous activities.”

“Oh, you do?” she murmured, as she leaned closer, lifted her chin, and kissed his lips.

Phil nodded as their lips lingered. His chest pressing against her breasts, as the connection of their kiss remained unbroken. The thin material separating their skin did little to conceal the hardening of her nipples. Though the air conditioner roared, the temperature of their cottage rose with each passing moment. Her need filled his senses while her hands released his and began to pull his shirt from his jeans.

He reciprocated and when his touch found the soft skin of her waist, Phil asked, “Shall we find the master bedroom?”

Taylor didn’t speak; instead she reached for his hand and led him through the archway toward the adjoining room with the large king-sized bed. Beyond the unblocked windows, the small lake glistened with the last rays of the evening sun. The earlier redness had bled from the sky, pooled behind the large trees and left lingering purple wisps floating above the horizon as dusk offered the dimmed illumination of only the moon and stars.

Phil didn’t need Taylor’s words to recognize her hunger. The appetite he witnessed wasn’t for food, but for connection. The path before her was more daunting than she wanted to admit. It would take strength and support. As their bodies became one and the world beyond the window darkened, Phil wanted to give her everything she needed. His desire wasn’t purely carnal, though that element’s presence was unquestioned. He wanted to be the one she could lean upon, to applaud her inner strength, and also to catch her if she fell. The woman below him wasn’t a damsel in distress. She was every bit as fierce as he, yet even he craved the knowledge of not being alone. Until Taylor, Phil had never known how badly he desired that connection.

Her beautiful eyes stared into his as her body clenched and her moans subsided. He loved how she didn’t close her eyes, but watched him constantly as they united. Perhaps that too was a sign of her strength. Never did it feel as if she surrendered herself to him. On the contrary, she gave, a gift that only he was blessed to receive.