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which she had no subject or no plan. No, she expected her story to hit her between her curious eyes, or perhaps, even more serendipitously, she wanted the damn story to squander itself between her creamy thighs like some sordid porn flick, exploding in his face like old history. A reporter?
    And stupid moron that he was, all he could do was flutter around her like a mindless moth, risking his existence for the light of the flame. He’d nearly cracked open his head, and did he stop touching her? Shouldn’t he have been smart enough to walk away? Oh, hell no. Instead, she ended up being the one lecturing him on the problems of a liaison. Liaison. Such a pompous word for such a basic need. A man’s insane compulsion to spend a moment with a woman in exchange for his soul.
    His arms cut through the water, his legs pumping untilhis muscles were on fire. Much smarter to work himself into exhaustion.
    All he could think about was her splayed on the rock, nude, her arms reaching for him like some goddess of the earth. She, who worshipped at the altar of communication and technology, instead of the pleasures of the flesh. Dammit.
    The cold water was killer on his skin, completely useless on his dick. As he neared the shore of his cabin, Aaron dove under the water, then came up, before his feet settled on the unsteady shallows. He shook out his hair like a mongrel dog, and stalked toward the grass, feeling his head throb with every step and not caring. A concussion would be preferable to life-altering lust.
    When he got to the dirt path, his still-tormented body stopped and turned to face the woman nearly hidden in the trees. Slim, with moonstruck hair and starlight eyes.
    Aaron felt his body swell, his mouth dry, and he idiotically imagined that he could hear the shallow rasp of her breath.
    His curse was loud and intended to chase her away, but she didn’t move, as if she expected him to run to her, to plunder her, ludicrously believing that he was incapable of restraint.
    In spite of everything he knew, every mistake he’d learned from, every calculated step that he prided himself on, still, still he wanted to taste her again, absorb her undaunted breath, and gulp in great, greedy gulps of her being. She, with the bright, eloquent eyes that desired him, that mocked him, that dared him.
    Right, he assured himself, while his merry cock gave truth to the lie. Still lying to himself, still believing himself completely in command, he took one hungry step toward her, toward the siren’s whisper of her allure, but then,because he wouldn’t go back to that life, sanity resumed. He stopped himself, putting his well-tended restraint back firmly in its place.
    Her swollen mouth curved, twitched, because she knew what it cost him to walk away. But no matter.
    Soulless, heartless, he made his way back to his cabin, pride and self-control precisely back in place.
     
    J ENN STAGGERED BACK against the trunk of the nearest tree, because she needed to stay standing, and she needed to breathe.
    She’d never seen a man more beautifully built, more perfectly arranged. He had no accordion abs sculpted from a love affair with weights. He had no bowling-ball biceps artfully crafted from tedious curls. No, he was lean and loose-limbed and heavily aroused.
    Oh, that was the worst. He was thick and powerful, and she could feel him between her thighs, inside her, and she wanted that, wanted him.
    She rubbed her arms, feeling the night breeze on her skin, warm and damp. The air had hovered around him, steamed with his desire.
    In the city, men didn’t want like that, they didn’t ache with it. They didn’t suffer with the very thought of it. Something out here stripped away the polish from the surface, or maybe it wasn’t this place. Maybe it was only him. Aaron.
    She’d come to his cabin to apologize, at least that was the story she’d invented, but then she heard the sounds from the lake. Safe behind the cover of the trees, she watched him swim,