He brushed his hair from his face, finished gathering his spilled belongings, then stood. He was barefoot, dressed in dark jeans, his dark shirt thrown on, but still untucked and unbuttoned. His hair was tousled from the Change. Sweat-soaked stray strands clung to his face.

I knew from Elena that the Change wasn't some Hollywood-style morphing where not a single hair gets mussed. Jeremy's face was shiny with exertion, spots of color on his cheeks, his eyes gleaming, lips parted as he caught his breath.

My gaze traveled down his open shirt front, along the thin line of dark hair, the lean muscled chest, the flat stomach…

My heart-and other body parts-started doing flip-flops.

He snapped his watch back on and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to brush it into some semblance of order.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm a bit of a mess."

"That's okay." Really okay.

He motioned me closer. I tried not to trip over my feet in my rush to get there. He backed farther behind the shelter of the pool house.

"Not much chance of being spotted back here," he said, nodding at the brick wall beside us. "Grady didn't seem like he was going to raise a fuss, did he?"

"No, Claudia convinced him nothing was there."

He started to button his untucked shirt, leaving the top half undone. He plucked at the neck with an apologetic smile. "Hot."

"Uh-huh."

I was two feet away, but I swore I could feel the heat from his body, smell the faint scent of his sweat. And his eyes… They glittered with something that was not quite predatory, but different. Less civilized. Like he'd forgotten to pull that mantle of control completely back into place.

If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd had a few glasses of wine. That's what it looked like-the gleam of slight drunkenness, that lowering of the inhibitions. I looked into his eyes and shivered, body straining against the urge to cover those last two feet-

He did it for me. His arms went around me and he lowered his lips toward mine, but stopped short. I looked into his eyes and saw, not uncertainty, but a teasing smile. I lifted my lips an inch, covering half the distance, then said, "Your move."

His brows arched. He brought his lips so close I could feel his breath, then waited for me to close the gap.

"You like having me give in first, don't you?" I murmured.

A fraction of an inch lower, lips brushing mine as he said, "No, I'm being courteous."

"Bullshit."

A low laugh. I hung there, in his arms, our bodies barely making contact. His hands slid up my back, his touch so light I shivered. A gentle tug as he wrapped his fingers in my hair, then brought them up to the back of my head. His lips moved down, eyes closing, and I shut mine, reaching up for him, waiting for that first contact, expecting a kiss as soft and teasing as his touch.

His mouth crushed against mine so hard my eyes flew open. A low growling chuckle rippled through him. He started pulling back, to soften the kiss, but I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned it hard enough to make him gasp.

He swung me up, lifting me easily, hands going to the back of my thighs. My legs parted to wrap around him, but my skirt caught. His hands slid down my thighs and pushed my skirt up, his touch firm, fingers splayed, gripping me as they traveled up my thighs to my ass. Then he let out a soft breath of surprise.

I pulled back from the kiss enough to say, "I don't like panty lines."

Another delicious growl of a chuckle as his fingers dug in, pulling me against him. I wiggled until I could feel him hard against my crotch, then tightened my legs around his hips, rubbing against him.

My hands dropped to his sides and squeezed between us, finding the button of his pants, then…

I broke the kiss. He dove to find it, but I brought my hands to the sides of his face, holding him back. His dark eyes wavered there, his face indistinct, my vision still clouded with lust.

"Just a second," I said as I squirmed from his grip and lowered myself to the ground. "I think I'm making this too easy for you."

"Easy?" The word was almost a growl. "Do you know how many times I've thought of this in the past year… and had to see you at council meetings and pretend the idea never even entered my mind?"

A quiver of excitement raced through me. So he hadn't been as oblivious-or immune-as he'd pretended. It was almost enough to make me throw myself into his arms. Almost…

"A year?" I murmured. "That's nothing."

I lowered my lips to the base of his throat and tickled my tongue up to his chin, tasting his sweat.

"If it hasn't been easy, you have only yourself to blame," I said. "I've been here, ready and willing the whole time."

I leaned against him. My fingers skated over his hip, then stroked the back of his thigh, heading between his legs. He growl sent tremors through me and I had to stop for a breath before looking up at him.

"Four years, Jeremy, and I'm thinking…" I looked into his eyes. "Maybe you can wait a little longer. Just to be fair."

I inched back, my hands going to his chest, as if to ward him off, but sliding under his shirt, feeling his heart thumping under my fingers, feeling the beat of his quickened breathing, the sheen of sweat over his lean, muscled chest… all of which didn't make it any easier for me, but I closed my eyes and savored the tease. Then, his shirt parted, I leaned forward, my nipples pressing hard against the silk, brushing them against his chest as I arched up on tiptoes, kissing the bottom of his throat, tongue sliding out to feel his pulse. He shuddered, but didn't move, and I wondered how long he'd stand there, and what I could do to tease him, to tease both of us, to break that legendary control…

I swallowed a moan and stepped back.

"It's late," I murmured. "I should get inside. Are you coming tomorrow?"

A pause. "Well, apparently, that depends on you."

I choked on a laugh and swatted his arm. "I meant to the house. Breakfast is at nine." I looked up at him. "As for the rest… we'll see."

I turned and started to walk away.

"Are you sure?" he called after me. "When I've had time to clear my head, I might change my mind."

"Oh, I think I can change it back."

I could feel his gaze glued to me as I sauntered off around to the front of the house.

UP IN my room, I let out a deep, shuddering sigh. Part of me screamed that I'd gone crazy. I could have had Jeremy in my bed-or in the backyard-tonight. Wasn't that what I wanted? What I dreamed of? I should have seized on the chance before the adrenaline rush of his Change passed and he realized he wasn't ready yet.

But that was exactly why I'd walked away. Because if he wasn't ready, I didn't want him. I wasn't taking the chance that he'd wake in the morning, apologizing and backpedaling furiously. Let him sleep on it and make up his mind. Because that's how I had to win Jeremy-body and mind-or I'd never keep him.

So I tried not to think about what I'd just walked away from, and was busying myself checking cell phone messages when a patter sounded at the balcony door. I froze. Jeremy? Tossing up pebbles to get my attention? I'd ignore him. I had to ignore him or-

I turned. And there was the man himself, at the glass balcony door, his shirt still undone, shoes off, hair mussed, lips curved in a small smile.

I looked past him. No ladder or other sign of how he'd gotten there. I cracked open the door just enough to be heard.

"How the hell did you get up here?"

"Magic?"

"Well, I haven't changed my mind so-"

"You forgot to say good night."

I struggled not to look at him, at that sexy crooked smile, at his unbuttoned shirt, at his black eyes still glinting with the heady exhilaration of the Change, still hungry-