“Is this your definition of a distraction?” she countered. “It fits my definition of a confrontation.”

“You’re right.” He pulled his own sunglasses off, tossed them aside. “We’ll analyze later.”

He moved quickly. She knew he was capable of lightning motion but hadn’t expected him to snap from cynic to lover in the blink of an eye. His mouth was hot, hungry, and hard on hers. His hands gripped her arms, pressing her against him so that as the heat and the need poured out, she couldn’t tell if it came from him or from herself.

He’d spoken no less than the truth when he told her she was in his system. Whether she was poison or salvation didn’t seem to matter. She was in there and he couldn’t stop the flow.

He jerked her back so that their lips parted, but their faces remained close. His eyes were as gold and powerful as the flare of the sun. “You tell me you don’t want me, you don’t want this. Tell me and mean it, and it stops here.”

“I—”

“No.” Impatient, suffering, he shook her until her gaze lifted to his again. “No, you look at me and say it.”

She’d already lied, and the lies weighed on her like lead. She couldn’t bear another. “This will only complicate things, make them more difficult.”

Unmistakable triumph flashed into those tawny eyes. “Damn right it will,” he muttered. “Just now, I don’t give a damn. Kiss me back,” he demanded. “And mean it.”

She couldn’t stop herself. This kind of raw, wicked need was new to her, and left her defenseless. Her mouth met his, just as hungry now, just as desperate. And the low, primal moan that escaped was an echo to the beat of desire between her legs.

She stopped thinking. Found herself swamped and spinning with sensations, emotions, yearnings. The kiss roughened, teetered toward pain as his teeth scraped and nipped. She clutched at his hair, gasping for air, shaking with shock as that skillful mouth streaked down her throat and sent wild chills over her skin.

For the first time in her life, she surrendered utterly to the physical. And craved the taking.

He pulled at her jacket, tugging the soft silk off her shoulders and tossing it heedlessly aside. He wanted flesh, the feel of it under his hands, the taste of it in his mouth. He yanked the slim ivory shell over her head and filled his hands with her trembling lace-covered breasts.

Her skin was warmer than the silk, and somehow smoother. With one impatient flick he opened her bra, then dragged it aside. And satisfied his need to taste.

The sun blinded her. Even with her eyes tightly shut, the strength of it pounded on her lids. She couldn’t see, only feel. That busy, almost brutal mouth devoured her, those rough and demanding hands doing as they pleased. The whimper in her throat was a scream in her head.

Now, now, now!