She pushed herself up on her elbow and shoved tousled inky hair out of her face. “What time is it?”

“Breakfast time,” he answered, scooping the food into wooden bowls his father had carved and polished.

With a little groan, she rolled out from under the warm quilt, hopping with endearing dismay as her feet met the cold wood. Mia dressed swiftly and presented herself at the kitchen table. His father had built everything inside this cabin, including the futon frame, and his mother had made the mattress. For him, being here was both pleasure and pain, a reminder of all he’d lost.

“I stand in awe of your expertise.” She took the spoon and dug in.

“Thanks.”

Søren sat down and ate his food in determined bites, trying not to see his father in his mind’s eye, meticulously crafting the utensils from bits of fallen wood. He could almost smell the flax seed his dad used in the final step. From the time he was fourteen, in the summers they’d hop in the car and take a road trip together. Giving the women a break, his dad always said, but the truth was, they both craved the quiet and solitude.

He’d always been a little out of step with the world, even before it broke his heart.

After they finished eating, he used a few drops of soap in one of the bowls and scrubbed up the dishes while Mia fixed the futon. She straightened and gave the bathroom a wary glance. “I want a shower but…”

“You’re not looking forward to the cold. The water comes from a mountain stream, so it’s pretty brisk. Hell of a way to wake up.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Søren couldn’t believe he was about to offer this. The accompanying mental images dried his mouth out. “If you want, I can heat some water and help you wash up.”

“I suppose you have an old copper tub to fill.” She raised a brow. “Is this where we indulge our pioneer fantasies?”

He smiled. “No. I’ll just pour a little over you in the shower stall, let you wash, and then pour the rest.”

“So you’ll be watching.” Her dark eyes took on smoky hues.

“I suppose I will be.” Suddenly the cabin felt very small… and very warm.

“Let’s do that, if you don’t mind. I’ll face the cold another day.”

Since the fire was still high, it didn’t take long to warm three pots full of water. He let Mia test it on her skin, and she pronounced it suitable. Søren didn’t know why this was affecting him so profoundly, but his hands shook as he carried the first pot into the bathroom. He stood in the doorway, watching her undress.

Each movement provoked him, from the way she bent to slip off her socks to the way she stretched in pulling her shirt over her head. At last she stood before him, tousled and naked, and his cock spiked to readiness. He could easily press her against the wall and take her from behind. Only the wildness careening through him kept him still while she stepped into the white shower stall.

“Ready?” he asked huskily.

Mia wore a witchy smile as she turned her face up. “Ready.”

He drizzled water over her head, watching the silvery trails against her skin. Her nipples pebbled from the contrast of warm water and cool air. “Do you want me to wash your hair?”

“Yes, please.”

He set the pot on the back of the toilet with the others and took her shampoo from the sink. Using a small dollop, he started at the top of her head, added a little water for lather, and worked it through her hair to the ends. She leaned into his hands with a throaty moan. Søren spent longer than he needed in massaging her scalp, his body responding fiercely to each of her moans. At last he could take no more and grabbed the rinse water. Carefully he poured it over her head, tilting so the soap didn’t run into her eyes. It took a couple more rinses until the water ran clear.

From that point, he didn’t ask her what she wanted him to do. He couldn’t stop touching her; she belonged to him. His to protect, safeguard, and care for. Snagging a washcloth from the shelf above the commode, he dipped it in the pot, smoothed it across a bar of soap, and then dipped it back in the water. Brisk agitation created a nice lather, and then he began to wash her.

Her breath hissed as he ran the fabric over her, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she stood quiescent, as if she sensed in him the need to finish what he’d started. Mia watched his progress, eyes avid. Her arousal showed in her quick, shallow breaths, the way her stance opened in anticipation of his fingers between her thighs.

To tease her, he washed everywhere else first, lingering on her breasts and the curves of her ass. He rinsed the cloth and retraced his steps on her skin until little whimpers were escaping her. Søren loved seeing her this way, especially knowing her gorgeous eyes were fixed on his face.

“Almost done,” he said, smiling.

“You wouldn’t leave me like this, would you?”

“Like what?”

“So massively turned on.”

He shook his head, sinking to his knees before her like a supplicant. Her breath caught as she watched him, but he didn’t intend what she suspected just yet. First he needed to see every shift, every flicker.

Mia moaned when he set the damp, warm cloth against her labia. A soft, barely there tickle against her clit. Her warm, clean skin enthralled him, paired with the luscious pink of inner flesh. Søren toyed with her until she rose up on her toes, pelvis thrust forward in a silent plea.

That was when he let the washcloth drop. Smooth and hot, slick with want-he’d never seen anything so lovely. Her clitoris begged his attention. As he leaned in, her hands lit on his head, guiding him where she wanted his mouth most. There was nothing so delicious as fresh, yearning woman. She undulated against him, mindless in her pleasure.

Søren clutched her hips and tasted her deeply, laving where she liked it best. To his delight, she began to utter guttural instructions. “Faster. There. More.”

“Here?” He teased her, licking low.

Her answer came in the form of a tug on his hair. Laughing softly, he complied-lips, tongue, graze of teeth-and she went wild, bucking. Mia arched, sobbing, “Søren!”

And he almost came in his pants. His erection hurt, smashed up against his zipper, but if he unfastened, he might come. He just needed a minute-

Those thoughts were forgotten when she started to cry. Troubled, he slid up her wet body. He clutched her close and gentled her through the aftershocks. She clung to him. But when she raised her eyes to his, she surprised him.

“Tell me you have condoms,” she demanded.

“Do you think I’d buy a whole case of beans and no protection in preparation for taking you with me into the mountains?”

A smile curved her lovely, sensual mouth. “I’m almost afraid to answer.”

“Come on, naked girl. Let me show you my stash.”

“I bet you say that to all the naked girls.”

“No,” he said softly. “I don’t.”

There was precious, precarious weight in that moment. She gazed at him, likely reading more than he wanted. And yet he could deny her nothing because she could see.

“There’s one problem here,” she said, gesturing.

“And that is?”

“You have on too many clothes for me to… play with you.”

The words felt as though she’d reached into his pants and squeezed his cock. “I suppose I could be persuaded.”

With shaking hands, he undressed. Søren didn’t think he had the stamina for foreplay, but it was just as well. As soon as he got his clothes off, she took a foil packet from the box and tilted her head toward the futon.

“Take a seat. I’ll be with you presently.”

Perching at the edge, he said, “You make me feel like I’m in a doctor’s waiting room.”

“Yet your interest hasn’t flagged. Does that mean you have a naughty nurse fantasy?”

He watched her with unconcealed impatience. “That depends. Are you the nurse?”

“Sorry. I don’t want you ever losing sight of who I am.”