"Seeing if you were going to need any moral support."

A kind way of saying he'd thought she might need rescuing.

She smiled. "It could have gotten ugly. Thanks for coming by."

He stood, still holding on to her wrist. "You had them from the second you sat down."

She looked around at the crowded bar. "Almost."

"How did it feel to have them all in your power?"

She remembered the flow of the music moving through her, the rightness of creating every note. "Good," she admitted.

He stared into her eyes. "Amy's spending the night with Nicole. Want to come over for a drink?"

He was inviting her for a whole lot more than liquor. Her insides tensed slightly at the thought of him touching her again. Kissing her, holding her. She wanted to feel those amazing sensations again. She wanted him inside of her, connecting them.

"I'd like that," she said.

He took the mug from her hand and set it on the table. "Then let's go."

AS THEY WALKED into the house, Claire tried to figure out how to tell Wyatt she wasn't interested in a drink or polite conversation. What she really wanted was to have him rip her clothes off and have his way with her. She wanted to be taken in the best way possible.

As that conversation hadn't been covered in any how-to book she'd read, she braced herself for a long, frustrating evening until they got to the good part.

But instead of heading to the kitchen or even the family room, Wyatt took her hand and started upstairs. Once in his bedroom, he turned to her, pulled her close and began to kiss her.

She'd thought about teasing that she was actually thirsty, but what was the point? There wasn't anywhere she wanted to be except in his arms. Preferably naked.

He stroked his tongue against her lower lip and she parted for him. As he deepened the kiss, he tugged at her shirt, pulling it out of her jeans and going to work on the buttons. At the same time, she reached for him, which meant they bumped more than unbuttoned. When she clipped him with her elbow, she pulled back.

"This is dangerous," she said.

He grinned. "You're lethal. Tell you what. I'll race you."

"What?"

Instead of answering, he undid his shirt, then shrugged it off. "You're losing," he said.

She shrieked. "I have more clothes on than you."

"Always an excuse."

She jerked the blouse over her head as she kicked off her sandals. She undid her bra and pushed off her jeans and panties in one, quick shove. Then she straightened only to find him still dressed.

"Hey!"

His smile faded as hunger replaced amusement. "Damn, you're beautiful."

He grabbed her and pulled her against him. She went willingly, wanting to feel his hands on her. She wanted it all-the touching, the stroking, the intensity as he took her to paradise and back.

They tumbled onto the bed. Wyatt rolled her onto her back and leaned over her, then bent down and kissed her. Even as their tongues touched and played, he ran his fingers down her belly. She happily parted her thighs.

He slipped between her legs and immediately found that one special spot. He rubbed it lightly, making her squirm to get more. Harder, she thought. Faster.

She soon discovered he had his own agenda. Instead of listening to her psychic commands, he continued to kiss her. Then he moved lower and took her nipples in his mouth, which turned out to be very nice. She had to admit the combination of him sucking on her breasts while touching between her thighs worked in a big way.

Jolts of sensation shot through her. She got hot all over and her breathing quickened. She recognized the rising tension, the pulsing of her muscles and sank into the bed to enjoy the ride.

Then Wyatt stopped.

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

He touched her nose. "I want to try something."

"Another woman? I don't think I'm up for a threesome."

He grinned. "No way I'm sharing you. I want to see if you can come with me inside of you."

As she had experienced exactly one serious sexual encounter in her life, she was more than willing to play. "Tell me what to do."

"Relax and let me take care of things."

An excellent quality in a man, she thought as Wyatt got up and stripped off the rest of his clothes. But before moving back on the bed, he reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom.

Claire's stomach clenched. Protection. It's what any sensible person would use, under the circumstances. But it reminded her of the last time, when he hadn't and the fact that there was a teeny, tiny chance she was pregnant.

She pushed the thought from her mind. Now was not the time to deal with that, she told herself as he knelt between her legs. He braced himself with his arms and slowly slipped inside of her.

It was more comfortable this time, she thought as she parted more for him. He filled her all the way, which was incredibly intimate.

But instead of pulling out and pushing in again, he straightened and, while still inside of her, reached between their bodies and began to touch her.

His fingers found her center and rubbed it. He circled and pressed in a steady rhythm that quickly had her breathing hard again. She tightened her muscles, which made him groan.

"You can feel that?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah."

Cool. She liked that she could make him experience what she was feeling, then the tension increased and it was more difficult to think about anything beyond how good she felt.

He touched her with a sureness that allowed her to relax. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the moment. It was different, him touching her while being inside of her. She felt more full, more sensitive. She pressed down on him slightly and moved her hips, drawing him in. He groaned again, but she ignored the sound.

Over and over, he touched her. Circling, brushing, making her strain and shudder. Her muscles tightened again and again. She got closer, then had the urge to move against him.

She pulsed her hips. He answered by withdrawing slightly, then pushing back in. Closer, she thought frantically. She was getting closer and closer. She strained to part her legs more, to have him touch all of her. She rocked her head from side to side, then sucked in a breath as everything inside her went still again.

There was a single heartbeat, then she shattered into her climax. He continued to touch her, while moving in and out, carrying her forward on a tide she couldn't control. She groaned her release, breathing his name, her muscles contracting over and over again.

Then he wasn't touching her with his fingers. He'd knelt over and began to fully move in and out. She hadn't known what to expect...but what stunned her most was how each stroke pushed her orgasm on a little more. She came again and again, trembling in rhythm with his thrusts, sure this was going to kill her, but what a way to go.

She was still climaxing when he shuddered and was still. He collapsed on his side, pulling her with him. They lay there, a tangle of arms and legs, breathing hard, holding on to each other as if they were never going to let go.

THE SUNRISE STARTED shortly before six. Claire knew because she and Wyatt were already in the kitchen, making coffee. She wore one of his soft, warm plaid shirts and nothing else. She felt sexy and wicked and more satisfied than she'd ever felt in her life.

She leaned against the counter while he turned on the machine, then put his hands on her waist and drew her close.

"You're always beautiful," he murmured as he kissed her. "Even first thing in the morning."

"Thank you," she said, knowing she wasn't. Not really. But if he thought she was, she wouldn't do any complaining.

He slipped his hands under the shirt and touched her bare waist. She began to tingle in anticipation. But instead of exploring further, he released her and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"You're going to have to be careful when you go back to New York," he said.

"Go back?"

"Won't you? Eventually?"

She'd never thought about it specifically. "I guess. My apartment is there. My career." Her life had been, until recently. Now she was less sure.

"You'll need to learn how to protect yourself. You're going to be dating and when the men you go out with find out about your financial success, you run the risk of them wanting to take advantage of you. You'll need to be careful."

Claire didn't know what to say. There were so many assumptions in his little speech, where was she supposed to start?

"I don't know that I'll be dating," she said, finding that the easiest one to address.

"What man could resist you?" he asked.

Good answer, but still. "Why would I pick someone like that?"

"Some men are good at hiding that they're bastards."

"You'd never want my money."

"Agreed. But I'm not talking about me, I'm talking about the next guy."

Next guy? Because they weren't going to be going out anymore?

One corner of his mouth turned up. "I'm the guy you met on vacation. I live in Seattle. I have a kid. You live in New York and travel the world."

Meaning, what? They had nothing in common? It would never work? She felt a sharp pain in her chest and it had nothing to do with being scared or worrying about a panic attack.

"I want the best for you," he told her. "I don't want you to get hurt or have regrets."

Too late for that, she thought, as the truth crashed into her. She was already in a world of pain. Wyatt had been straightforward with her from the very start, and now he was trying to do the right thing and take care of her. It didn't occur to him that she wanted more. Someone who would care about her enough to insist she stay, no matter how difficult it might be to work out the logistics. Someone who would love her...the way she loved him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

NICOLE DID HER BEST not to spend the morning sulking, but it was hard. She was tired of being stuck in the house, tired of being the one left behind. Last night Claire had gone off to conquer her fears so she could return to her exciting life in New York. She'd also had fabulously hot sex with Wyatt. It wasn't that Nicole cared about Claire sleeping with Wyatt specifically, it's just that she was soon-to-be divorced, unlikely to trust a man with her heart anytime soon and therefore not going to ever have sex again. She wasn't the type to simply take a man to bed, not that they were lining up, asking. All she had to show for the last three months of her life was a cheating ex-husband, a stealing, backstabbing baby sister and two ugly scars.

She slumped down on the sofa and tried to tell herself the news wasn't all bad. She and Claire had reconciled.

"Now that I like her, I know she's going back to New York," Nicole muttered, feeling crabbier by the second. "Then I'll be all alone again."

She hated feeling like this and was willing to risk watching daytime television to change her mood. But before she could reach for the clicker, she heard a knock at the door.

Nicole pushed herself up onto her crutches and walked to the door. She opened it, expecting to see the mail carrier, or a package delivery. Instead Jesse stood on the front porch.

Nicole's first emotion was relief, followed by a rush of love. She hadn't seen Jesse in weeks and despite everything that had happened between them, she'd been worried. Which just went to show Claire wasn't the only one flirting with crazy.

Nicole was careful not to show any emotion as she said, "What are you doing here?"

"I heard about your surgery." Her baby sister shifted on the porch. "I wanted to see how you're doing."

The initial rush of affection quickly faded. All of Jesse's betrayals lined up in her head, making her want to lash out. She didn't care that her sister looked tired and contrite and even a little sad. She wanted revenge.

She also wanted to talk to Jesse. Damn.

"I'm fine," Nicole said at last. "Healing."

"Can I come in?

Instead of answering verbally, Nicole stepped back. She led the way into the house, two parts hoping things could go back to how they'd been before and two parts knowing some wounds took more than a few weeks to heal.

Nicole sank onto the sofa. Jesse stayed standing. She looked around. "The place looks the same."