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her.
    “You’re cold. Let’s get inside.”
    Sahara hadn’t realized she was shivering, but she doubted it was the weather. As he gathered their clothes, she inhaled the woodsy scent of pine, Devon and sex, a heady combination.
    It felt a little awkward being naked and following him up the cobblestone walkway leading up to his rustic wood cabin. From outside, the structure appeared small and lived in. A porch swing hung from the eaves. A beer bottle and a small tool set sat on a three-legged table. A pair of mud-crusted work boots sat next to a worn welcome mat.
    Devon opened the door and stepped aside. Sahara entered. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it was definitely not what she saw. The first thing that caught her attention was the fireplace, which had to be one of the largest she had seen. The mantel and the facing were beautifully carved wood, polished to the point they glistened. As she scanned the room, she noticed all the detailed carvings, from the baseboards to the large beams in the ceiling. His home was a piece of art.
    Forgetting she was stark naked, she strolled to the fireplace, tracing a finger over the eight-point deer etched into the wood. “Devon, this is beautiful.” She turned to face him. “Did you do this?”
    Pink dotted his cheeks. Instead of answering, he approached her and took her into his arms. He nuzzled her nose with his. “I think it’s time to go to bed.”
    “You sleepy?”
    “Hell, no.” He kissed a path to her ear. “I’m starving—for you.”
    “Then lead the way.”

Chapter Three
    As Devon led Sahara toward his large bedroom, she admired his work to the point it made him self-conscious. Did she think his carvings were beautiful? His place wasn’t much, only two bedrooms, two baths, but it was a reflection of who he was. Where everyone in Whispering Cove hungered for beachfront property, he loved the woods, space and his privacy.
    Entering his man-cave, she drew to a halt. Her eyes widened. “You made this too?”
    “Yes.” It had taken him nearly a year to carve the four-poster cherry-wood headboard and footboard and matching dresser and armoire.
    “Do you realize what something like this is worth? I didn’t know you were such a fantastic artist,” she said enthusiastically.
    Heat flooded across his face. “I’m not. Heidi is the artist in the family. The art on the walls is hers.”
    Sarah took a moment to study the picture above the bed. It was an oil painting of his house. In it, he sat on the swing whittling a piece of wood. Devon hadn’t even known Heidi had been watching him that spring morning. It was one of his most cherished items.
    “And Tabby is an interior designer and she works with you and Devon. What does Kat do?”
    “Kat?” He pinched his lips together and shook his head. “Well. She dances.” Thank God he hadn’t had to pay for her college.
    Sahara laughed. “Dances?”
    “She received a full dance scholarship to Duke University. Thinks she’s going to New York and make it big as a choreographer.”
    Sahara tilted her head. “And, you don’t think so?”
    “I think there has been enough talk for tonight. Come here.”
    Her dreamy blue eyes twinkled as she moved slowly toward him. She placed a palm on his chest, halting him from pulling her into his arms. “What are we going to do?” Her sultry voice made his semi-hard dick stiffen.
    “I think I’ll tie you to my bed and have my wicked way with you.”
    His tastes ran a little kinky. Yet he’d never found a woman who wanted to explore the world of bondage. When her pupils dilated and her breasts rose with each breath, he wondered if he’d finally found the one for him.
    “Are you game?”
    When she nodded, the air left his lungs in a single gush. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath or that her answer would mean so much to him, but it did. He wanted to do things to this woman he had only dreamed about. This time when he attempted to pull her into his arms she