He stood up, stark naked himself, allowing the water to pour off of his body. “Yes. I want to feel your skin against my skin.”

Saria didn’t avert her eyes. She reached for a towel and instead of handing it to him, when he stepped from the tub, she began to dry him off, her hands gentle as she skimmed the soft material over the lacerations on his chest and belly. When she lingered, he pretended not to notice, standing patiently, waiting for her to claim his body in her own way.

She seemed fascinated and not at all shy. Nervous, yes, but not shy. She stroked the towel down his back and over his buttocks, removing the water drops as she continued down his legs.

“You’re really quite beautiful,” she said. “Very symmetrical.”

He was struck by the tone of her voice. It was factual, observant, almost scientific. He found himself smiling. “Symmetrical?”

She touched his muscles. “Each side is amazingly perfect when the human body isn’t really that way at all.”

“You do know I’m real, don’t you?” He tried not to laugh.

“You’d be perfect to photograph, Drake.”

“It isn’t going to happen, Saria.” He looked down at the expression on her upturned face and he did laugh. Dragging the towel from her hands, he tossed it aside, wrapped his arms around her and walked her backward into the bedroom. “No matter how much you pout, how cute you are, no matter if you’re the sexiest woman alive, the answer is no.”

“Consider that you should do it for art. For science.”

He lifted her easily and tossed her on the bed. “Absolutely, unequivocally, no.” He plunged the room into darkness.

“We’ll see. You have to open the French doors.”

“Are you too warm? And the answer will always be no.”

“I have to sleep with the windows or door open or I can’t breathe.”

He opened the double doors. The night breeze slid into the room and Saria smiled at him. He couldn’t help just standing there by the door admiring her with the moonlight spilling into the room. Her hair was tousled, her skin gleaming like porcelain and her body soft and curvy and inviting.

She patted the bed next to her. “Come and lie down.”

“You don’t have a camera hidden somewhere, do you?” He put suspicion in his voice.

“I might,” she teased.

“I’ll have to search you.” She was studying him just as thoroughly as he was looking at her. He liked the feel of her gaze on him. He might be exhausted and hurting, but she made him feel more alive and exhilarated than he’d ever felt in his life.