“I want you to take your shirt off.” Her face was bright red as she said it, but she got the whole sentence out. He grinned.

“Your wish is my command,” he said, and leaned back to pull the bottom out of his trousers. Slowly, teasingly, he unbuttoned each button, watching her eyes track his every movement. His mouth was dry by the time he reached the last one—he’d meant to tease her, but in the process he’d frayed his own control. He sucked in a breath when she reached out and ran one tentative finger down his sternum, her touch agonizingly light on his skin. He forced himself to stay absolutely still, not even breathing until she lifted her hand away.

She was staring at him, seemingly mesmerized by the expanse of his chest. Surreptitiously he looked down, wondering what it was she found so fascinating. All he knew was he wanted her to keep looking like that at him. Forever.

She knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it. Even her fevered imagination had failed to conjure anything remotely accurate. He had muscles on his chest, where Alain had been all elegant smoothness. As soon as she made the comparison she rejected it. Alain had no place here. There was only Sam and Alva, no past, no ghosts. No last names. She’d decided on this, consequences be damned, and she wasn’t going to waste a second of it.

She took a deep breath, calming the trembles racing through her limbs, and touched him. This time there was no hesitation; she let both of her hands flatten against him, his muscles contracting under her palms. He was holding his breath again, this enormous, strong, brilliant man brought absolutely still by her touch. Power rushed through her, an explosive reaction down her body, pooling in the tips of her breasts and between her thighs. She felt drunk on it.

His eyes were closed now, his head tipped slightly back. She let her hands trail down his stomach until they encountered a trail of dark blond hair that disappeared under the waistband of his pants.

She was really going to do this. She was going to … have relations with this man, like the scandalous woman everyone already thought she was. So far, she had to admit, she wasn’t doing a very good job of being scandalous. That was going to have to change.

She let that woman, the daring one, take the reins. “Now the rest,” she said, and even her voice sounded like the other woman now—husky and low and sensual. No trace of fear.