He only hoped he’d timed it right, and that his excuses to Jim for taking in the catch before checking all the pots weren’t as ridiculously transparent as they’d seemed. He wasn’t going to let guilt eat at him either, Ethan promised himself as he secured his boat at his home dock.

He would work a couple extra hours that evening in the boatyard to make up for leaving Cam on his own that afternoon. If he didn’t have one hour alone with Grace, if he didn’t release some of this pressure that was building up, he’d go crazy. Then he’d be no good to anyone.

And if she’d already finished up at the house and left, well, he’d just have to hunt her down, that’s all. He had enough control left not to scare her, or shock her, but he just couldn’t get through another day without her.

His grin began to spread when he came through the back door and saw that the morning untidiness had yet to be cleared away. The washer was rumbling in the laundry room. She hadn’t finished. He started into the living room, looking for signs of her.

The cushions were all smoothed and plumped, the furniture dust-free and shining. And as the floor above his head gave a quiet creak, he glanced up.

At that moment, he thought Fate was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. Grace was in his bedroom, and what could be more perfect? It would be much easier to lure her into a daytime bed without jolting her sensibilities if she was already close by one.

He started up the stairs, delighted when he heard her humming.

Then his system suffered a sizzling lightning bolt of lust when he saw she wasn’t just close by his bed, she was all but in it. She leaned over, smoothing and tucking fresh sheets, her long legs showcased in ragged cutoffs.

His blood raced, a roar of speed that left him breathless, that turned the low ache he’d learned to live with into a sharp and gnawing pain. He could see himself springing forward, dragging her onto the bed, pulling and tearing at her clothes until he could hammer himself inside her.

And because he could, because he wanted to, he made himself stand where he was until he was certain his control was firmly in place.

‘‘Grace?’’

She straightened, whirled, pressed a hand to her heart. ‘‘Oh. I . . . oh.’’ She couldn’t speak, could barely think coherently. What would he think, she wondered giddily, if he knew she’d been fantasizing about rolling naked and sweaty over those crisp clean sheets with him?

Her cheeks had gone pink, charming him. ‘‘Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.’’