The boat swayed at its mooring, and a shift in the wind sent a wet blast through the open end of the boathouse. Drips from the leaky roof had begun hitting the deck and, more damaging, the food stash. “Come on.” Panda picked up the cooler and carried it to the boat’s cabin, ducking as he entered.

Their relationship had changed today, and following him was fraught with peril. She liked thinking of him as the bad guy, but today had altered that. On the other hand, his vasectomy, not to mention that incredible body, made him irresistible.

Viper followed him.

The cabin was small, with only a tiny galley and a V-shaped berth in the bow. Panda set down the cooler and sank into the navy-blue vinyl cushions. He gave her a lazy smile, then opened the peanut butter jar, scooped up a glob with a pretzel rod, and held it out to her.

Two consenting adults … One vasectomy … An ex-fiancé who, on this very night, was making love to her best friend … The stars were in perfect alignment.

Lucy accepted the pretzel and sat on the cushion across from Panda. “I don’t even like peanut butter very much.”

“It’s the deprivation,” he said. “It makes you want what’s forbidden all that much more.” The way he gazed at her across the narrow space—straight into her eyes—made his meaning clear.

She had the perfect smutty prop in her hand, a pretzel stick with a dollop of peanut butter clinging to the tip. Another woman might have made the most of it, but Viper didn’t feel like it. She snapped off the end between her teeth. “I’m the only one eating.”

“I got a head start.” He opened a bag of licorice whips but didn’t take any out. He simply gazed at her. Not at her legs or her breasts. Just at her, which felt even more intimate. His voice came to her in a husky vapor. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“I know.”

“I keep trying not to think about how much I want you.”

Her skin prickled. “How’s that going?”

“Not well.”

The cabin was too warm, too close, but she wasn’t leaving. Darts of heat zipped through her. She wanted this man with his tarnished eyes, inky hair, and powerful body. But she wouldn’t make the first move.

That wasn’t a problem for him. Ducking his head, he closed the short distance between them, took what was left of the pretzel from her hand, and put it aside. “You make me crazy,” he said.

“Glad to hear it,” she replied, “but I really don’t want to talk now.”