“I don’t want to slow down. I don’t want excuses. I don’t want to feel like this, Rico!” She didn’t care that her shoulders were shaking, she didn’t care.

“Okay. Okay. Will you let me do something? Promise not to stop me?”

She turned around, not in the mood to make any promises to anyone. There was only one thing she wanted right now.

“I’m going to pick you up and take you inside. My knee is fine. Will you let me do that without worrying about my knee? I really need to hold you.”

“I can’t. I can’t let you carry me when your knee is hurting.”

He threw his head back and groaned in frustration, and despite herself she smiled.

Taking her hand as though it was unspeakably precious, he tugged it. “But you will come inside with me? We can talk inside? Yes?”

“I don’t want to talk.” But she followed him into the enormous living room with a giant marble bar overlooking a clear view of the Bay Bridge, lit up. For the first time in her life she didn’t care about the beauty of it, about the view, about anything but being in his arms again, being wanted. He slipped behind the bar and turned on the sculptural faucet that was almost as tall as he was. Almost as extravagantly beautiful.

“Water?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Really? He wanted to play hostess right now?

He walked around the bar and handed her a glass.

Good, because if had been a plastic bottle she would have thrown it clean across the room.

She placed the glass down on the bar, refusing to be gentle, refusing to be managed. Glass clattered against stone.

She took his hand, gazes locked, grip firm. “Does this place have a bedroom?”

If anyone could fill a nod with erotic heat, this man could. She pulled him toward what had to be the bedroom (please let it be). He followed, eyes intense, hungry for her.

The sight of the bed was such a relief she almost cried. Turning around, she pushed him onto it, then climbed into his lap and straddled him. With a mighty moan that was pure need, he pulled her close. Body to body. Her legs tightened around his hips, all of her wrapped around him. He reached back and unclasped her bun as though he’d waited a million years to do it. Her hair cascaded around them as she shook it free, shook herself free. Then her tongue was in his mouth, and his hands were tugging at her clothes.

Their bodies recognized each other, coming together like elemental atoms, their only purpose to fuse and re-form. Everything old turning into something new in an explosion of desire and trembling connection and unvarnished hope.