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from her pants and slid his palms along her flesh until they cupped her breasts. She moaned into his mouth, circled him and pulled her hand up his shaft to his head. He flicked his tongue deeper, flicked his thumbs against her nipples until they hardened and grew and threatened to split her lacy bra.
    He tore his mouth from hers and found a nipple, drawing the cloth-covered flesh deep into his mouth where he suckled until she melted, tearing herself from him to get down on her knees.
    The refrigerator was the only thing holding him up. His arms braced against it, he watched her work her magic on him. Even as a teenager, she’d instinctively known exactly how to enslave him. The breath caught in his throat as the wet warmth of her mouth sheathed him, her tongue flicked against the tip, and she pulled him inside, one agonizingly slow inch at a time.
    But he didn’t want to come this way. He wanted to be deep inside her, to experience once again the thrill of her body moving with his, to make her cry out in ecstasy again and again, finally joining her once she was sated.
    So he pushed himself from the refrigerator, reached down and cupped her chin, freeing himself…
    And then froze as their gazes connected.
    What the hell were they doing?
    Their daughter was missing and they were about to have sex?
    What was he thinking? This was crazy.
    Still staring into his eyes, Isabel rose to her full height. He could tell she had similar thoughts. That she was appalled at what they had started. He was trying to find the words that would make it all right—maybe that they were just trying to find comfort in a terrible situation—when she backed away from him.
    She gasped, “You can sleep in Lucy’s room!” and then fled the kitchen.
    And him.
    Again.
    …
    What had she been thinking? Isabel stripped and stepped into the shower. How had she let Micah get to her the way he had? Worse, how had she responded so mindlessly?
    She’d let down her guard for a few moments, but she wouldn’t do that again.
    A cool shower drove the remaining tendrils of sexual heat from her, but it did nothing for the humiliation she’d felt the moment they’d broken that physical connection. Twelve years ago, she had vowed to never, ever let Micah touch her again, and until today, she’d kept that vow.
    Her emotions were all over the place because of Lucy. Dread for her daughter had made her reach out to the one person in the world who loved the girl as much as she did. Now they had to join forces to rescue their child.
    Isabel knew she had to put out of mind that Micah never fought for her…never fought for them. She hoped that now, at least, Micah would be the man she’d expected him to be when she’d learned she was pregnant.
    As to what had almost happened a little while ago…they’d clung to each other in fear, that was all.
    That had to be all it was.
    No matter what they’d had in the past, what was done was done, and it couldn’t be changed.
    They couldn’t go back in time…
    …
    “Poppi is going to kill you!” Reyna whispered when she caught Isabel trying to leave through a side door in the dead of night.
    “Not if he doesn’t find out.” Isabel had been seeing Micah for months now without Poppi’s knowledge, though never this late at night before. Keeping her voice down, she said, “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”
    “No…but how could you do this?” Reyna demanded. “Sneak around to meet the enemy?”
    Thinking of the way Micah made her blood soar, Isabel said, “Micah Wild isn’t my enemy. Is he yours?”
    “Well, no, not Micah.”
    “Okay, then. This stupid feud our family has had with the Wilds has gone on long enough.” Isabel whispered. She was anxious to leave but not until she was sure her sister wouldn’t squeal on her. “Someone has to end it. Or several someones.” She gave Reyna an intent look. “Like you, me, and Cruz.”
    “What makes you think I would want to?”
    “You just said Micah