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hormones was a unique experience that would make for interesting analysis, but not right now.
    Yet she seemed to have no choice. Every breath he expelled, every tiny movement he made caused a reaction in her. She was excruciatingly aware of every contact point between them, even the feel of the mattress beneath her.
    His fingers tightened slightly around her wrists. She was a tall woman with a frame to match, yet his hand easily encompassed both of her wrists with a strength that did not need to be exerted to be understood. She heard his whisper again in her mind.
They like feeling theweight of their man between their legs
. Indeed the weight of his body on hers wasn’t at all unpleasant. It made concentrating on anything but the sensations he was causing inside her all but impossible.
    Stop!
she commanded herself.
Think
. She couldn’t very well lie beneath him on a bed and keep him talking for eight days.
And nights
, her mind inserted helpfully.
    She stifled a groan. Battling him was a difficult enough challenge. She did not need to battle herself as well.
    “Enough about me,” he said. “Let’s talk about you.”
    “Let me up,” she instructed. “We can talk in the kitchen after you’ve dressed.”
    “You give orders very well. Does that come from being the detective? Or the princess?”
    “I’ve never been a princess of any kind in my life.”
    “Oh, you went straight to queen then. How plebeian of me. Please forgive me Your Highness.”
    Scottie didn’t know whether to laugh or scream in frustration. Even in his condescension there was no cruelty. In fact, there was an underlying amusement in most everything he said that begged her to join him in his mockery. Considering she was the target, it should have been easier to resist. She had to work at it.
    “Fancy speech for a cop. Or does that come from playing bartender-philosopher?”
    His smile remained, but the light went out in his eyes. She could have shivered from the chill. It was much easier now to recall the dark specter that had loomed over her an hour before. Sarah. Scottie wondered again who she was, this woman who had the ability to make him lose control.
    Without warning, Logan flipped her on her back.She was not a small woman. His power and the ease with which he exerted it made her realize again just how lucky she’d been earlier.
    He straddled her, his ankles pressing hers to the bed to keep her legs straight so she couldn’t rear up. Her wrists were still pinned at the base of her spine by his hand, the uncomfortable position made worse as it cocked her hips at an awkward—not to mention disturbingly intimate—angle.
    His other hand captured a fistful of hair. He leaned down. His black eyes glittered, giving his smile an almost evil cast. The dark specter had returned.
    “Who the hell are you? How do you know me?”
    This menacing side of him made her relax. Bullies and madmen she could handle. She had a lifetime of experience with their kind.
    “Let me up and I’ll tell you,” she said calmly.
    He reared back and tugged her half off the bed. With her hands and arms immobile, she had no balance and was forced to brace her chest against his. Their faces were less than an inch apart.
    His smile disappeared. When he spoke, his voice was a growling whisper. “Now.” He nodded to the straps tangled on the sheets. “Unless you want to see if you’re double-jointed too.”
    “Try it.”
    His eyes widened, then the smile returned. She’d surprised him. Good. She had no chance in her current situation. She doubted mentioning Sarah would throw him again. She had to get him to move off of her.
    “You like living dangerously,” he said.
    “I’m here, aren’t I?”
    He said nothing. Then, very deliberately, hedropped his gaze to her mouth. After a long moment when she could almost taste her pulse in her throat, he looked up at her through thick black eyelashes.
    “Why, yes. Yes, you are.”
    His voice, those eyes, the weight of his