“Inside, to the left.”
She nodded. “I won’t be long.”
* * *
Come on. Get it together. Palms flat on the polished vanity, AJ stared at her reflection in the huge bathroom mirror. This gut-sucking passion, this breathless rush of being swept along by something bigger, was all familiar territory. He affected her with every single kiss, every single touch. He had magic hands—magic Matthew hands.
Surgeon’s hands, so familiar with the human body, so familiar with healing, with giving life.
So familiar with her.
She straightened the towel on the rack. This was a good thing. It meant she could relax and enjoy herself, which was highly conducive to baby making. Stressing about it would be counterproductive.
Okay, so go out there and have a good time.
With a nod at her reflection, she smoothed the ends of her hair, tweaked the edges of her bra to plump up her breasts, then rubbed her lips together, the smooth glide of lipstick a time-honored confidence booster.
She left the bathroom, her heels ringing boldly on the polished wood. But when she walked outside, her confidence dissolved under the weight of Matt’s loaded gaze.
“Your phone rang again,” Matthew said as she walked over to the table. “Someone called Jesse?”
“The married ex,” she supplied when she noticed his too-casual, I’m-not-going-to-ask look. “He’s—” Her phone vibrated and AJ glanced down. “Speak of the devil.” She grabbed it and pivoted, stalking to the railing for privacy. Unshielded by the partition, the cold night air blasted over her skin, whipping her hair. She flicked on the phone, then shoved a hand through the whirling mass, shoving it from her eyes. “What do you want?”
“Jay-jay! How are you doing, sexy legs?”
“Stop calling me that—it makes you sound like an idiot.” His deliberate twist on her initials and that little pet name had been mildly cute when they were dating. Now it just made her want to smack him.
“So, I thought we could grab a drink tonight.”
“Look, I told you we’re over. Stop calling me,” she hissed, shooting a glance back at Matt, who was leaning over the opposite railing, his attention seemingly absorbed by the dark water below. “Go back to your wife.”
“Aww, babe, if we really were over, why’re you still taking my calls?”
“Because you keep calling me, dumbass!”
His laugh rumbled down the line. “I miss that mouth! Especially when you did—”
She hung up. With a frustrated growl she stalked back to the table, then slowly, deliberately put her phone down when all she wanted to do was hurl it into the ocean.
She put a cold hand to her cheek and sighed. Her face was burning.
“Why do you still have your ex on your phone?”
Matt had turned back to her and she eyed him, cupping her other cheek. “So I know when to ignore his calls.”
“He calls often?”
She shrugged. “Once or twice a month.”
“Why don’t you tell him to piss off?”
She gave him a look. “I have. He keeps calling.”
“So get him blocked. There are laws against stalking, AJ.”
“Yeah, I know.” She sighed. “But then I’d have to visit the police, file an official report—” That was the biggie. Her parents had screwed with her psyche so well, drumming in that irrational fear of the cops so deep it had taken her years—and a good therapist—to overcome their conditioning.
Plus, there was the small matter of her criminal record....
Her phone rang again but this time, Matt beat her to it. “Jesse? Yeah, this is AJ’s phone. Listen, you need to stop calling her,” he said in that cool, clipped tone. He ignored her silently mouthed protest and turned his back on her. “She’s not interested in jerks who cheat on their wives. So get over it and move on.” He paused. “Me? Dr. Matthew Cooper, former head of neurosurgery at Saint Catherine’s.”
“Oooo, a doctor! And British, too!”
Oh, Lord, she could hear Jesse’s mocking comeback from here! And judging by the way Matthew’s expression turned carefully blank, he was not impressed, either. His eyes locked on hers as Jesse let fly with something she couldn’t quite make out.
Finally, Matt said softly, “Yeah, okay. I’d be careful who you’re threatening, if I were you.” Another pause, then a slow smile bloomed, his direct gaze still on her. “Because my best mate is ex-CIA and he really, really loves his guns. So be a good boy and lose AJ’s number.”
With that, he hung up and handed her phone back.
Honestly, she should be furious he’d butted in, but all that came to mind was... “Do you really know someone in the CIA?”
“He’s my head of security.”
“Right. But he wouldn’t really shoot him.”
“Who knows? Decker’s been in some tight situations where force was the only option. We both have.”
“So your job is dangerous then?”
“It can be.” He reached for her hand and drew her close. “Why? Are you worried?”
“No.”
She glanced away but Matt, damn him, had her measure. He pulled her flush against him, his heat searing into her, his laugh a soft breath against her cheek.
“You’d miss me, Angel. Admit it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t miss your huge ego, that’s for sure.”
“Ahh, but you’d miss this, I bet.” Then his lips swooped down to meet hers and she just about melted on the spot.
They kissed until they were both breathless, until she felt her legs go wobbly and Matt gently drew her toward the cabin doors. Then they were inside and after a few more agonizing kisses, AJ felt a soft pressure on the back of her legs.
The sofa.
Matt nudged her and she sank into the cushions, taking him with her. He sprawled across her lap, his thighs hard against hers, his arms against the backrest on either side of her head.
“The windows—”
“Tinted,” he got out, nipping her jaw.
“But the crew—”
“Topside. With instructions not to interrupt.”
“But—”
“Angel, do you want to keep talking or would you rather I do this?” And with one smooth movement, he swept aside her dress and brought his mouth down to her breast.
Her back arched as he tongued her nipple to painful erectness through the black satin bra. Then he dragged the cup down, exposing her fully to his careful ministrations. His teeth latched on to that swollen nub and her breath hissed out in glorious ecstasy.
Oh, yes. She’d miss this. He was so very, very good at arousing her, whipping her into a bundle of aching, raw nerves until she was begging him to take her. Like now. She squirmed, eager for more of his lips, his tongue, his hands. Pinned by his thighs, the bulge between them only frustrated her, fueling her desperation.
“Just so you know,” she began, “this...ah...is going to be...” Another small groan escaped her as he dragged her dress off one shoulder and flicked his tongue along the exposed flesh. “It’s just a simple matter of...”
“Want.”