“I can believe in you enough to trust what you say.” Juliette rested her head against his chest.

Closing her eyes, she could see his face behind her shut lids. If she’d thought him handsome earlier this evening, after a run in the rain and her fingers in his hair, he was devastating and her pulse rate increased rapidly.

“You should. Remember I’m not the one with the fear of storms. If I didn’t want to be here, I could walk out the door.”

What he said made sense. Of course he could walk away. And unlike the past men in her life he didn’t know who she was, therefore he couldn’t want anything from her except sex or her company. Phrased that way, she ought to be grateful he’d opted to get to know her better first, she realized, and she let herself relax against him, trusting him even more.

After all, no man had ever shown interest in her. Doug did. And her interest wasn’t just reciprocated, it ran high. But he was holding himself in check and Juliette had no doubt his restraint was related to his fantasy. He wanted to prove he could put a woman’s needs first, before his own. Unfortunately, that put his fantasy at odds with her desire.

She’d already experienced the luxury of being catered to and doted upon by a very special man. With Doug, she felt desirable and the center of his universe. At times she even forgot the hurt of her broken engagement. And now that Doug had completed her basic fantasy-one she hadn’t known she’d possessed before coming down to this island-she wanted more.

But first she had to prove to him they could share more intimacy and make love without one or the other of them being used for selfish gain.

He said he wanted to get to know her better. It was a start toward her goal and she had no problem complying. “So what is it you want to know about me?”

“How about we begin with your fear of storms.”

She curled into his waiting strength. His arms cocooned her in safety and heat but she couldn’t ignore the tingling awareness rioting through her. “Dad built us a tree house when we were eight. It was so cool and Gillian and I spent so much time there. Too much time, so Mom and Dad had to restrict the hours. But we were kids, you know? We just had to play there no matter what.”

“And here I thought you were the perfect child.”

She shook her head. “Gillian was the wild child, which made me the more perfect daughter, but that came later, as I got older. At eight I just wanted to have fun.”

“Nothing wrong with having fun.” He rested his chin on her head and Juliette sighed.

The comfort and ease of the situation wasn’t lost on her. Not only did he understand, he was interested. He cared. “I liked fun too. We were playing at Stuart’s house…”

“Stuart?” he asked.

“My…neighbor. Fiancé,” she admitted, not wanting to bring the word into her private time with Doug but wanting honesty between them just the same. He let out a low growl but before he could question her about Stuart the man, she continued her childhood story. “And it was getting late. When it started to drizzle, his parents sent us home.”

Doug groaned. “Let me guess. You detoured.”

“Right. And then it started to pour.”

“Aha.” His drawn-out word rumbled deep in his chest.

“Exactly. By the time Gillian and I heard the rain, it was so late we were afraid to go back. At eight years old, punishment is scary. We spent too long arguing over what to do and, before you know it, thunder, lightning and major windswept rain was coming down. We were soaked, scared and wanted to go home.” She shook her head, remembering. “Dad found us first.”

“Of course he did. You guys were in the most obvious place to look.”

She laughed. “I said we were eight years old. I didn’t say we were smart. But he found us after lightning hit a branch on a neighboring tree. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. I was holding on to Gillian and crying, while she was having the adventure of a lifetime.” She shrugged. “And that’s why I’m afraid of storms. I guess I should have known then I wasn’t cut out for too much excitement.”

“Oh, I think you handle excitement extremely well.”

There was that deep rumble again, Juliette thought. The sexy sound that reverberated inside her, turning her inside out and making her want him even more than she already did. “Depends on who’s sharing the excitement with me.”

“Right now that would be me.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “You won’t get any argument from me.” She stretched her feet out on the couch and he followed suit. Though cramped, she’d never felt more at ease.

Perhaps because he’d freed them from jumping into anything immediately sexual, he’d taken the pressure off. Thanks to Stuart, she possessed this driving need to entice a man and prove he could be interested. Thanks to Doug there wasn’t another man who interested her except for him. He’d just shown her a nonphysical but still intimate way of expressing that interest. And she was grateful. Enough to let herself go and relax in his arms, the rain outside distant and so far away.

SHE WAS BEING shifted, lifted and carried. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep but Juliette awoke with a start to find herself held in Doug’s arms. “What are you doing?”

“Moving before I wake up permanently twisted like a pretzel.”

She laughed. “You could have just woken me.”

“And miss the opportunity to hold you in my arms? Not a chance.”

He carried her into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed, going so far as to pull down the covers and tuck her in, then lower himself onto the mattress beside her. Such a parental gesture, yet there was nothing familial about the heat in Doug’s eyes or the sizzling awareness he ignited inside her. Her pulse rate kicked into overtime as she waited for whatever he had to say.

He picked up a lock of her hair, twisting a long strand around his fingertip, seemingly distracted, but Juliette knew better. He was savoring every touch, every feel, just as she did whenever he was near. She curled into the downy softness of the pillows beneath her.

“Rain’s stopped,” he murmured.

“You’re leaving.” Unexpected, unreasonable disappointment filled her.

“I don’t have a choice.” His gaze fell from her face to the low neckline on her shirt. His fingers followed the movement, tracing the straight edging from her collarbone downward, brushing her chest and lingering in the deep vee nestled between her breasts.

His tanned skin contrasted with her paler flesh and though his touch was gentle, his intent was sexual. And Juliette experienced an instant flare of heat. Suddenly the silk top, which had been so soft seconds earlier, rasped against her hardened nipples. Nothing would ease the tension inside her except his touch, and from the determined look in his eyes, that wouldn’t be happening now.

Let loose. Be yourself. What other way to break past his stubborn convictions? “Of course you have a choice. You can stay.”

His jaw clenched tight. “Not yet.”

She wanted to question him further, find out what kind of hurt he believed he’d inflicted in the past or why he felt the need to atone now. “Why…”

Before she could finish, he dipped his head and lowered his lips to hers for another one of his long, drugging kisses. The kind that sapped her energy and stopped all rational thought. And the kind that told her whatever reason he wasn’t staying the night had nothing to do with his feelings for her.

While he worked magic with his mouth, his fingertips eased inside her shirt and though he encountered the barrier of her flimsy bra, he wasn’t deterred. With a light touch, he held her nipple between two fingers, rolling and flicking with enough pressure to first ease the ache and then increase it.

She raised her arms, seeking to touch him, too, but he gripped her hands and held them against the mattress, keeping himself in charge. And her at his mercy. She sighed into him, letting him know with her mouth, the only way she could, how much she enjoyed his ministrations and how badly she wanted more.

“I don’t want to go.” He leaned his forehead against hers.

His admission sent talons of hope soaring through her veins. “Then don’t.”

“You’ve been hurt recently.”

She stiffened at the reminder. “I never said that.”

“Your ex-fiancé wanted what you could do for him and not you. I’d call that hurt.”

“And you ought to know?” She deliberately pressed harder.

“Something like that.”

Accepting his vague answer for now, she stored further questions away for another time.

He lifted her chin in his hand. “If I stay, we both know where this is headed.”

She nodded, her heart filling with heated warmth.

“But for your sake you need to be sure.”

“I think I know what my body is telling me.” And right now it was screaming for his touch.

He laughed but didn’t sound at all amused. “I want your mind to know it, too. And that takes time.”

More like he needed time, Juliette thought. As difficult as it was, she heeded his boundaries but Juliette didn’t plan on leaving the island without breaking past his barriers and experiencing complete intimacy-his body, deep inside hers. She trembled at the thought of making love with Doug, knowing she’d never be the same afterward.

He lifted the covers and tucked them around her, then leaned forward for another brief kiss. “Night.”

She sighed. Knowing what was right and necessary didn’t make saying goodbye any easier.

WHEN THE TELEPHONE rang, Juliette was in another world. Alone with Doug on a deserted island, surrounded by bright sun and tropical flowers with the softest petals-for which Doug found the most inventive, arousing uses. She didn’t want to be disturbed, but the persistent ringing wouldn’t abate.

Reaching over, she grabbed the receiver. “Hello.” If she had to be awakened, she hoped it would be by Doug.

“When I sent you on this trip I didn’t think you’d forget to check in. How are you?” Gillian’s concerned voice came through loud and clear.

“There aren’t supposed to be phones in paradise,” Juliette wailed. But she couldn’t deny she was happy to hear from her sister even if the feminine voice wasn’t her first choice.

She closed her eyes, but her dream slipped further and further from her grasp, replaced by reality: a too-cold room courtesy of the air conditioner, a too-cold bed thanks to Doug’s late-night departure and a humming, lingering emptiness because her dream had stopped short of satisfaction.

“If you’re in paradise, why do you sound so miserable?” Gillian asked.

“Not miserable.” Lonely for the man who’d left too quickly last evening. Juliette sat up in bed, letting the morning sun stream through the blinds and bathe her in warmth. “And I recall leaving a message on your answering machine the day I got down here.”

Gillian cleared her throat. “Yes, well, would you believe I was out and too busy to get back to you?”

“Too afraid is more like it. I know you, Gillian Stanton. You were afraid to hear what I had to say about you arranging a fantasy vacation without telling me-oh, and switching my wardrobe. You knew I’d have a few choice words on that subject, too.”

“When I didn’t hear back from you again I got worried.”

She wasn’t surprised her sister had all but ignored the issue at hand. “You should be worried,” Juliette muttered. “It would serve you right.”

“That bad an idea?”

She didn’t miss the hesitancy in Gillian’s voice and decided she’d tortured her sister enough. Besides, she needed her twin and best friend’s advice. “It was probably the best idea you’ve had in this lifetime,” she admitted.

“Wow! That good. Well, I read about Fantasies, Inc. in a magazine. Would you believe couples actually end up married thanks to that resort and its owner?”

Married. Before Juliette could either process the word or speak, Gillian continued. “And speaking of married-or more accurately, not married-you should know Stuart’s been suspiciously silent since you’ve been gone.”

Juliette let out a stream of breath. “Silent in what way? I haven’t been in contact with him since we came to that so-called understanding to keep quiet.”

“He called the day you left.”

“He called me?” Gillian was staying in Juliette’s house to throw the reporters off the trail. “Why would Stuart want to deal with me now?”

“Most likely he was checking up on you and, believe me, he wasn’t buying my ‘this is Juliette’ act.”

Despite the circumstances, Juliette laughed. “He’s known us too long.”

“Well, don’t worry. I wasn’t talking or giving away secrets. He tried a few more times and gave up. It’s the giving up part I don’t like or trust.”