"Let it go, honey. Anyone would have checked the recorder out." His lips skimmed the pulse beating in her neck, trailed to the hollow of her shoulder, and settled. "Are you thinking of falling asleep on me?" He knew she would lie there thinking about the attack on her, about the lost tape.

"Yes, I hurt everywhere. If you're staying with me, blow out the candle. I'd hate for the house to burn down."

"I'd like to stay all night with you, every night, but I don't sleep in clothes."

There was a small silence. "Fine, take them off."

Ryland shed his jeans quickly, not wanting her to change her mind and send him away. He lay back down, gathering her close, inhaling, her warm scent, and trying to control his body when he fit his body protectively around hers. There was a small silence while his heart beat and his blood pounded through his body.

Lily sighed. "You're breathing too hard."

He laughed softly. "I have a plan, honey."

"Well, keep it to yourself for a while. And don't move so much, my head hurts."

She sounded drowsy, grumpy. Intimate. Warmth spread through his body, did curious things to his heart. No one else saw her like this. Lily Whitney, so in control, so perfect at work or in public. With him she was different. Soft. Vulnerable. On fire. Grumpy. His smile widened until he was grinning like an idiot. Lily was wrapped so deeply in his heart and mind he knew she would never be out.

He concentrated on the candle, stirring the air until the flame was gone and the room was once more dark. Holding her was heaven and hell but he would take it. His teeth nibbled on her bare shoulder. "I'm hungry, Lily."

She made a soft, contented noise and snuggled deeper into his body. "You can be hungry tomorrow."

His smile was in his voice. "Do you realize you're a tiny bit grumpy when you're hungry? I've noticed it before."

He was massaging her skin, his hands warm and strong and comforting in the night. Lily's body was relaxing and her headache eased under his ministrations, but she sighed heavily. "You're going to pester me until you get your way, aren't you?"

His strong teeth teased her earlobe. "Absolutely, honey. I have to have food. And I know you haven't eaten a thing." He slipped out from under the covers.

"I wasn't feeling very hungry," Lily pointed out. Ryland took her breath away with how completely uninhibited he always was. He didn't seem to know the meaning of the word "modest." His muscles rippled and his body glided, fluid and powerful. She couldn't take her eyes from him. With a little sigh of regret for lost sleep, she threw back the sheet and followed him, dragging on his shirt without buttoning it.

"I'm starving." Ryland didn't turn around; he continued to walk, magnificently sensual, padding from her bedroom like a great jungle cat. As he walked through the open space of her hall, he caught up several candles from a mahogany shelf.

"You're always starving," Lily echoed. "You're going into the kitchen? You're crazy-it's the middle of the night." She hurried after him, the tails of the shirt teasing her bare thighs as she walked. "I wasn't kidding when I said I couldn't cook. I can't even microwave properly."

"I'm a good cook. Besides, I have plans for later on when you aren't hurting so much." He glanced back at her over his shoulder, his gray eyes glinting wickedly. His gaze moved over her body possessively, hungrily, caressing her soft curves openly. "I need to build up my strength."

"You do not need any more strength, Ryland." She sounded prim, but her nipples tightened under his hot look and deep inside excitement blossomed. "You're going to do us both in. And for your information, I have enough meds in me to numb an elephant."

"It didn't seem too numb when I was examining you."

"You pressed right on the bruise! Honestly, I'm fine."

"You'd better be telling me the truth." As they entered the kitchenette Ryland nonchalantly lit the candles and set them up on the counters to give himself light. He grinned at her. "Cooking by candlelight makes all the difference in the world. That's where your gourmet chef went wrong. He had no soul."

Lily burst out laughing. "You must have been a terrible little boy. I'll bet you got away with anything when you gave your mother that killer smile of yours." She leaned against the far counter and studied him, taking in every detail of his superb body. He was fit, each muscle defined. And he was moving easily around the kitchen, totally nude, semihard and unconcerned with it. His body fascinated her almost as much as his mind did. She loved his lack of modesty and the way it never seemed to bother him that he couldn't hide how much he wanted her.

Ryland enjoyed having her eyes on him. He bent to peer into her refrigerator, mulling over the contents, pulling out various items, all the while knowing she was looking at him. His body swelled even more at the knowledge of her perusal. He was content when she was near to him. Listened for the sound of her laughter. Needed to hear the quiet tone of her voice. He ached for her, to be with her, but not just a joining of their bodies; he wanted a commitment.

His shirt on her was far too large, draping her body yet gaping open to reveal intriguing glimpses of her soft breasts. He could see the shadow of the dark triangular thatch of curls at the junction of her legs. The edges of the shirt teased his senses with quick little glimpses then moved when she moved, hiding treasures.

"I was a wonderful little boy, Lily," he told her. "Just as our son will be."

Her eyebrow shot up. "Are we having a son?"

"At least one. And a couple of daughters too." He moved past her, slid his hand down her flat belly, caressing, stroking, his fingertips teasing the black curls at the junction of her legs before he moved on to the sink. "Lily! Look at this. You have bread dough here."

A shiver of excitement went through her. Her body clenched in reaction to his touch. "Rosa often leaves bread dough for me because I love fresh bread. I do manage to put it in the oven all by myself."

He paused in his movements to look skeptically at her.

Lily shrugged. "All right, fine, she wrote the instructions down and I keep them in the drawer right by the oven." She moved closer, wanting his touch again. "You want children someday?" The thought of having his child growing inside of her moved her. She placed her palm over her stomach, unconsciously guarding an unborn baby.

"Not someday," he corrected; "soon. I'm not getting any younger." He whisked the small tea towel off the rising dough. "Cinnamon rolls sound good, what do you think?" He reached over to turn the oven on preheat.

"With me? You want to have children with me, Ryland?"

He made a rude noise as he began combining ingredients in a bowl. "Try to follow along, honey, you have a high IQ. I know you can do it if you try."

Lily rubbed the pad of her thumb across her lower lip. "You must have been a monstrous child, Ryland. You must have been in trouble all the time." She made her way to the other side of the counter, watching him intently, a daring idea forming in her head. He was so sure of himself. And doing his best to ignore her while he worked.

She wandered around the counter to stand beside him.

Ryland looked up again. "I'm working here, and the candlelight across your breast is distracting. Go stand somewhere in the shadows."

Lily shook her head. "I think you could use some assistance." She was looking at his hands working the bread dough, not at him, but her voice had a husky, sensual rasp to it, exciting him, arousing him instantly.

Dark heat spiraled through him, robbed him of breath. He didn't dare speak, not wanting to break the sexual spell Lily was weaving. He began to whip ingredients together in a small mixing bowl, his movements sure and practiced.