Sam tossed and turned. She dreamed about Peter, Quentin Johnson and Natalie Jordan, and for once she actually remembered the dreams when she awoke with a start, her heart racing. Glancing at the bedside clock, she saw it was just after three and realized Nick wasn’t in bed with her. Her eyes darted around the dark room and found him standing at the window, the glow of a street light illuminating his tall frame.

Taking a moment to appreciate his muscular back, she remembered him telling her he loved her and was filled with a warm feeling of contentment and safety that was all new to her. Then she remembered arguing with him over Noel and Natalie, and her stomach took a sickening dip. The soaring highs and crushing lows were just one reason why she’d stayed away from men since she broke up with Peter, who never would’ve been as civil as Nick had been during a fight. Even though they’d disagreed, Sam didn’t doubt for a minute that he loved her. That made him as different from Peter as a man could get.

She got up and went to Nick. Slipping her arms around him from behind, she pressed her lips to his back. “What’re you doing up?”

He rested his hands over hers. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“He’s not stupid enough to come back here. By now he knows we’re looking for him.”

“I think I could kill him if I got my hands on him. I really think I could. Not just because of the bombs, but all those years ago, too. All the years we could’ve had.”

“He’s not worth losing sleep over, Nick.” She turned him so he faced her and shivered with desire when he ran his hands over her while looking down at her with hot, needy eyes. Looping her arms around his neck, she gasped when he lifted her and carried her back to bed. “I thought you were mad with me.”

“I am,” he said in an unconvincing tone as he snuggled her against him and pulled the comforter up around them. “Try to get some sleep.”

She dragged a lazy finger from his chest to his belly and smiled when he trembled under her touch.

“Sleep, Samantha.”

“What if I don’t want to, Nick?” she asked, curling her hand around his erection.

“I’m sleeping,” he said with an exaggerated yawn. “And I’m mad with you.”

Laughing, she clamped her teeth down on his nipple.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“But you’re not asleep anymore,” she said with a victorious smile as she raised herself up to plant wet kisses on his belly while continuing to stroke him.

His fingers combed through her hair. “You’re going to be tired again tomorrow.”