She quickly stripped off her robe and nightgown and wrapped a huge, white, bath towel sarong-like about her body. Carefully balancing the bowl and towels, she opened the heavy birch door and entered, pausing just inside the door while her eyes adjusted to the dimness. The sauna was lit by a single red bulb that cast a rosy glow and she could see only dimly the benches bordering the birch walls. In the center of the room was a large metal container filled with white-hot coals and a small regulator faucet that sent waves of dry heat through the small compartment.

"Over here!" Rex called, and she followed his voice to the far side of the room. As she drew within a few feet of him, she stopped abruptly. He was lying full length on his stomach on one of the wide benches, and he was totally nude!

She supposed she should have expected it. It would obviously be more practical if she were to treat him, and she'd realized this afternoon that Rex had no inhibitions regarding nudity. It was just that it hadn't occurred to her. She allowed her gaze to trail lovingly over long, muscular legs dusted lightly with dark hair, to the tight buttocks and slim, taut waist and then up to the broad, powerful shoulders. How beautiful he was, she thought dreamily.

"Tamara?" Rex turned his head to look at her, and she came immediately to her senses. She moved forward briskly and seated herself beside him.

"I’ll try not to hurt you," she said quietly, setting the towels on the floor and dipping her hand in the oily liniment.

For long, silent minutes she soothingly massaged the ointment into the muscles of his shoulders and upper back. Then she started on his lower spine and the hard, corded muscles of his buttocks. She derived an almost sensual pleasure out of the play of muscles between her fingers, and the occasional low grunt of contentment that Rex emitted when she managed to ease a particular pain.

She finally reached down for a towel to wipe her hands and said, "We'll let that ointment bake in for ten minutes and then I'll do it one more time."

His eyes opened lazily. "This bench is damnably hard," he said. "Would you hold my head on your lap?"

She drew a deep breath and felt a sudden, fluid languor in every limb. "Of course." She moved to the end of the bench and took his head on her lap.

He moved his head uncomfortably and then swiftly rolled over on his side to bury his face in her belly. "That's better," he said contentedly. "You smell so sweet. I don't think I know that perfume."

She could feel his warm mouth move through the towel across her stomach, and she found it hard to answer. "I blend it myself," she said faintly. "It's a combination of gardenia and distilled cinnamon."

"I like it," he muttered, his teeth nibbling delicately at the soft flesh of her thigh where the towel ended.

She gave a shaky laugh. "I'm glad you approve."

He suddenly stopped his playful nibbling and turned his head to look up into her face, his dark gaze holding hers effortlessly, his face almost solemn. "It's happening, isn't it?" he asked quietly. "You're going to let me love you."

She looked down at him tenderly, noting the shadows his lashes made on his strong, masculine face. The rosy lighting turned his silky hair an even darker shade. The mint-scented heat, the intimate silence broken only by the occasional hiss of water on the hot coals, the glow that turned the room into an erotic other world, all combined to bring about a dreamy lassitude that completely banished her defenses.

"Yes, I think I am," she said huskily, leaning her head back against the birch wall.

"Tonight?"

She chuckled. "No, not tonight. You can barely move."

"Tomorrow?" His lips were once more brushing lazily against her belly and a flash of fire shot through her.

"Three days," she said firmly. "You need to rest."

He sighed. "If you think I’ll be able to sleep for the next three nights, you're insane." He looked up with little-boy wistfulness. "You're sure you won't change your mind?"

"I'm sure," she said with a low laugh.

Abruptly a dark frown clouded his face. "Why now?" he asked. "Are you feeling sorry for me?"

"No, I don't feel sorry for you," she said softly.

"Then why?"

Because I love you, she thought. Because when I looked at you lying on that kitchen floor white and hurt, I knew I'd love you for the rest of my life.

"Why do you think?" she parried evasively.

His eyes danced with mischief. "Because you suddenly realized how utterly irresistible I am?"

"Right the first time." She smoothed the dark satin of his hair with a tender hand. "You've completely swept me off my feet."

"Did you like your song?" he asked lazily, his hand reaching up to toy with the tuck of the towel across her breast.

"I loved my song," she said throatily, her eyes misting. "It was the most beautiful gift anyone could ever receive."

"Well, you wouldn't take the necklace." He looked up, his dark eyes hopeful. "Will you…?"

"No, I will not take the necklace," she said firmly.

"Oh, all right," he grumbled. "You're certainly a stubborn wench."

His toying hand suddenly gave the towel a tug that brought it slipping to her waist, baring her breasts. Tamara gave a cry of surprise. She felt his upper body rise and then looked down to watch him nip at her pink nipple.

"I guess you've noticed that I'm a breast man." Rex chuckled mischievously, and quickly suckled at one breast, while toying with the other nipple until it was a hard button beneath his fingers. She moaned, a little breathless.

His voice was hoarse and shaking as his lips left her breast and he muttered, "I'm suddenly feeling much stronger, sweetheart."

Tamara looked down into his face, which was tautened into a beautiful sensuality. He rested on his elbow. She drew a shuddering breath and, grabbing her towel, stood up. "You'll feel even better after I apply this second treatment," she said briskly. "Now roll over!"

He obediently rolled over onto his stomach, but when she pulled the towel up over her breasts again, he protested.

"Don't! I like to look at you."

She was still for a long moment, then dropped the towel and fastened it about her waist. She decided she liked him to look at her, too. She began the gentle massage of his lower back as he continued to study her.

"Not tonight?"

"Not tonight," she answered quietly, dipping her hands into the ointment again and going to work on his shoulders.

"Tamara?"

She looked up inquiringly.

"You're sure, aren't you?" he asked softly. "In three days you'll let me love you?"

She tore her eyes away from the deep intensity of his. "I'm sure."

"In three days well be in Las Vegas," he said thoughtfully, his eyes on her face. "I'm playing the Pagan Room at the Santa Flores, and I don't have a show the evening we arrive there."

Her hands paused an instant in their massage. Despite her acknowledgement of her desire to belong to Rex, his persistence caused her a moment of panic. Then her hands resumed their gentle kneading motion.

"In Las Vegas," she assented slowly. "At the Santa Flores."