“Can’t.” She choked out the single word as the last of her tremors eased away. Shaking her head, she looked at him and whispered, “I can’t. It’s too much. Too fast. Too soon.”

“It’s never enough.” His gaze locked on hers and she fell into the green depths. “I want to watch you go over. I want to feel you shake for me.”

His thumb stroked her again and she whimpered as a pleasure/pain jolted across her too-sensitive flesh.

The elevator doors dinged and opened into his living room. The wood floors gleamed in the lamplight, the bright rugs scattered over the floor shone like gem-stones tossed to the ground. He set her on her feet, but her knees were like jelly.

Instantly he swept her up into his arms and Debbie hooked her own arms around his neck. Burrowing into him, she tucked her head against his chest and listened to the wild crashing of his heartbeat.

His long, hurried steps took them through the living room without a pause and when they entered the master bedroom, he didn’t waste any time. He stretched her out on the bed, but when she reached for him, lifting her arms to him in welcome, he held her wrists and slowly turned her around. She felt his fingers at her back and when he pulled down the zipper of her dress, the cool air caressed her heated skin like a promise.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, and bent to kiss her at the small of her back. She sighed and closed her eyes as his lips touched her in an intimate touch. Then as he pulled her gown off, his hands cupped her behind, his fingers squeezing, kneading.

Debbie groaned and twisted on the silken duvet, the cool slide of the fabric adding to the sensation overload slapping her system.

She burned for him all over again. It was as if her body hadn’t shattered at all just a few minutes ago. She ached to be taken again. Ached to feel his body invading hers. His lean but muscled body crushing down on her. “Gabe…”

“Right here, babe,” he murmured the words as he trailed nibbling kisses up and down the length of her spine. While his mouth teased her, his hands explored her. Dipping into every curve, exploring every inch of her body until Debbie could hardly breathe with the fire caging her lungs.

“I want…” You, she thought. You. She needed him desperately. Wanted him even more. Her mind was a whirling jumble of racing thoughts that splintered when she tried to catch hold of them. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to think.

Only needed to feel.

Only needed him.

She tried to roll over so that she could see him, touch him, do to him what he was doing to her. But he held her in place with his strong hands.

“Not yet.” He kissed the nape of her neck, scraping his teeth against her skin and she groaned softly. “Just let me touch you.”

She buried her face in the silky duvet and curled her hands into fists over the material, as if she needed a firm grip on the world to keep from sliding off. She twisted and writhed beneath him, her skin burning, itching for him, and when his hands stopped their exploration, she whimpered again and couldn’t even blame herself for the sighed complaint.

Looking back over her shoulder, she watched as he quickly tore his clothing off and tossed it to the floor to join her discarded gown. She licked her lips in anticipation as the pale, gold lamplight fell on his hard, muscled chest, his flat abdomen, his…He was big. Bigger even than she remembered. And obviously more than ready for her.

Her core tingled in expectation. Her body trembled with want. She rolled over to welcome him.

“Gabe…I need you. Now.”

“I know,” he said, and she saw a brief, half smile curve his mouth. “And you’re going to want me even more in a minute.”

He lifted her hips, and she wrapped her legs around his waist in invitation. “Gabe…”

“Trust me,” he whispered.

He stroked her behind, his fingers dancing over her flesh as if he were coaxing a beautiful tune from a concert piano. Debbie sighed and then gasped as his fingers dipped inside her again, exploring, stroking, goading her higher and higher on the climb to satisfaction.

Her hips rocked with the rhythm he set. Her breath hitched as he stroked her damp heat. She grabbed fistfuls of the duvet again as her hold on the world began to tumble from her grasp. And still, he pushed her higher.

“Please, Gabe…”

He shifted, the bed dipping with his movements. She blew out her breath, lifted her hips for him and sucked in a gulp of air when his body plunged into hers. The feel of him, thick and hard and eager, filled her. It was as if he was taking not only her body, but her soul. Pushing himself so high and deep within her that she couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t imagine existing without him being a part of her.

His hands slid up and down her sides, scorching her skin with his heat. She sighed and moved against him, taking him deeper still, higher. She needed to feel all of him within her. Needed to fill the emptiness within.

She’d spent ten years denying what this man really had meant to her. Ten years where she’d talked herself into believing that the connection between them hadn’t been as deep and all-consuming as she remembered. Ten years where she’d convinced herself that life without Gabe was just as good as life with Gabe.

She’d even lied to herself enough that she’d accepted a marriage proposal from a man who had never touched her heart as Gabe did without even trying.

And in that one crashing moment, she recognized the lies she’d told herself for what they really were. Cold comfort to take the edge off of what she had walked away from.

He moved within her, taking her, staking a claim, and Debbie gave herself up to the glory of it. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out with the pleasure jolting through her and closed her eyes to hide the tears of completion welling there. He rocked against her, over and over again. She heard his heavy breathing, felt the tension coiled in him and reaching for her. Felt the amazing, soul-satisfying hum of their bodies moving as one and knew…finally knew that she loved him.

Desperately.

Eternally.

She loved Gabe Vaughn and nothing could change it. Not time. Not her own foolishness.

Nothing.

She moved eagerly, frantically, twisting against him, and heard him groan in reaction. That soft, helpless sound urged her on.

“Enough.” The word came out on a strangled growl. He pulled his body free of hers and before she could complain, took a jagged breath and looked down into her eyes.

Green. Forest-green and filled with shadows, his gaze moved over her in a hot sweep that shook her right to her bones. Then, leaning to one side, he snatched open the drawer of a bedside table, grabbed up a condom and ripped the package open in a frenzy. He sheathed himself in a second and then loomed over her again, bracing himself on his hands, placed at either side of her head.

She stared up at him and saw the man she’d dreamed of for ten long years. She cupped his face between her palms and whispered, “Come to me, Gabe.”

He didn’t speak. Didn’t have to. She read all she wanted to know in his eyes. The flash of hunger. The spark of something deeper. The gleam of need. It was all there.

Then he slid into her heat and Debbie nearly gasped. She held him deep within her. Reveled in the hard, solid weight of him atop her. Loved the feel of his body locked inside hers.

When he rocked his hips, pushing himself deeper, she gave herself up to the magic she’d only ever found with him. She matched his rhythm, moving with him in a dance that seemed as new as it did familiar. She ran her palms up and down his back, scoring his skin with her nails. She inhaled the scent of him and dropped a kiss at the base of his throat before meeting his mouth with hers.

His tongue pushed inside, tangled with hers and as they devoured each other, his body continued to plunge inside. Fiercely, passionately, he claimed her again and again, taking her higher, faster, than she’d ever been before.

The first twist of release spun out inside her and Debbie gasped, lifting her hips into his, tipping her head back on the bed, holding on to him as though he were her only remaining link to the world.

And then it was more.

It was everything.

Her body splintered and her mind shattered. She shouted his name, held him tightly and rode the wave of amazing sensation that carried her into oblivion. And when he called her name and followed her, Debbie was there, waiting to catch him as he fell.

Gabe rolled to one side of her and then pushed off the bed. He needed a little distance from Debbie. A little bit of room so that he could catch his breath and congratulate himself on a job well done.

After all, that’s what this had been about. Seduction. Sex. Payback. It had worked like a charm, he told himself. He had her right where he wanted her. Glancing over his shoulder, he looked briefly at Debbie, stretched out across the duvet, practically purring in contentment.

And he wanted her again.

That hadn’t been the plan, but plans were meant to be changed, right? Just because he’d had her once didn’t mean the game was over. Until she left-until he let her go-she was his.

“That was…” Her voice trailed off as if she couldn’t quite find the right descriptive words.

“Yeah.” He knew how she felt. Damned if he could come up with a word to describe what that experience had been like, either. So he put it out of his head, forced his voice into a casual tone and said, “You want a drink? I want a drink.”

He walked naked from the bedroom into the living area and headed straight for the bar. Soft lamplight spilled across the room, chasing shadows into the corners. The sheer drapes across the open French doors lifted and danced in a whisper of a breeze that carried the scent of the ocean into the room.

At the bar, he opened the under-the-counter refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay. Debbie liked white wine, he knew, and it would do for him, as well. He opened the bottle and had the first glass poured before she strolled out of the bedroom wearing only his black bathrobe. He didn’t want to think about her naked body beneath the silk fabric, so he swallowed hard and asked, “Wine?”

“Thanks,” she said, and crossed barefoot to him to accept the glass.

Gabe tossed back his drink as if it were medicinal, then quickly poured another. He stared down into the gold liquid, willing himself to settle. It wasn’t working. Blowing out a breath, he crossed the room and stepped through the fluttering curtains and out onto the terrace. Didn’t matter here if he was naked or not. This was a private balcony and couldn’t be seen from anywhere else on the island.

The cool ocean air caressed his skin and did a good job of banking the embers still warming inside him. How could he want her again so quickly?

“Aren’t you cold?” She stepped up beside him, laid one hand on the stone railing and took a sip of her wine.

“No.” He didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking and he sure as hell wasn’t up to having one of those post-coital conversations all women seemed to thrive on. Damn it, what he wanted to do was to throw her down on the terrace and lose himself inside her again.

Lowering to admit that he was getting tangled up in his own damn trap.

“Gabe…”

He turned his head to look at her. The soft breeze ruffled her hair. Her eyes were shining and her mouth looked too damned delectable for safety. So he kept his voice tight, his tone grim as he said, “Don’t start.”

“Start what?”

He snorted, took a sip of wine. “You know what. Have sex with a woman and she wants to talk about the future, for God’s sake.”

She blinked at him, frowned and said, “I wasn’t going to talk about the future at all.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “Then let’s talk about the past.”

Stupid, he thought. No reason to bring up what’s long dead and buried. But when her mouth flattened into a grim line, he enjoyed it too much to stop. “You want to talk. So talk.”

“What’re you so pissed about?”

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, taking another long drink of his wine.

“You know, you used to be in a better mood after sex,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I used to do a lot of things differently.” His gaze locked on hers and for several humming seconds, neither of them said a word.

“Unbelievable,” she said quietly. “You can stand there and be all snotty and standoffish after what we just did together?”

“It was just sex.”

“It was more than that,” she countered.

“Not to me.”

“Liar.”

“You don’t know me, Deb. Not anymore.”