When he opened the bathroom door a minute or two later, her eyelids were drifting closed. She immediately perked up upon seeing Vanni walking toward her wearing a pair of low-hanging black pajama bottoms that left very little to the imagination. Once again, she was struck by the golden-brown smoothness of his skin. His naked torso was a living sculpture of lean, well-developed muscles, his abdomen so taut she could have easily bounced a quarter off his flat stomach. Ridged, oblique muscles slanted like an arrow to his crotch, seeming to defy her not to look in the downward direction. He stalked toward her and the bed. Despite her acute awareness of his gaze on her, Emma couldn’t tear her gaze off the image of his cock pressing lightly against soft cotton and hanging between his strong thighs: the very picture of temptation.

“Emma.”

He stopped next to the bed. She looked up at his face sluggishly. His aquamarine eyes were narrowed and his angular jaw was hard.

“Yes?” she rasped.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

She had a vivid memory of him saying something similar when he’d bidden her to him that first time in the Breakers’ dining room, and how intimidated she’d been.

Why are you looking at me like that? he’d demanded.

For the first time, she realized he’d seen naked desire in her eyes even back then, and had recognized it when she hadn’t. Understanding that, her former confusion melted away. She continued to stare up at him, sliding her gaze over his torso and lingering on the small, brown disks of his nipples. Her lips parted in wonderment when she saw them roughen and tighten. Slowly, she met his gaze.

“I can’t help it,” she said softly.

His eyes seemed to spark. Her heart jumped with excitement but she forced herself to remain still when he abruptly reached for the corner of the bedding and flipped it back, exposing her naked body. His gaze traveled over her, hot and possessive.

“Why shouldn’t I look at you, when you look at me like that?” she whispered, her skin prickling and her nipples tightening under his stare.

“Because your eyes make me want to do things I shouldn’t,” he said, his gaze fixed between her thighs, his stare hungry. Her clit pinched tight. She had an almost overwhelming urge to touch herself to ease the friction. He came onto the bed next to her, and her excitement only amplified. He took her into his arms and drew her against him. A small shudder went through her at the delight of pressing to his hard male length, the tips of her breasts crushing against warm, smooth skin. Their close contact was momentarily broken when he twisted, turning out the bedside lamp.

Then he was gathering her into his arms in the darkness. Emma exhaled shakily, her cheek pressed against a dense pectoral muscle. Her thigh was wedged beneath his legs. She could feel the outline of his cock. He was growing erect again. He felt sublime. Her curiosity goaded her.

“Why shouldn’t you do those things to me?” she whispered. His cock swelled against her thigh. For a moment, he didn’t speak, and her entire awareness focused on the feeling of his penis throbbing next to her skin.

“Because I rode you hard earlier, and I took you like an animal just now. You will be tender.”

Emma shifted slightly against him, focusing her attention to the sensation between her thighs. He was right. She was slightly sore. With her amplified awareness of him, however, her sex also felt tingly with excitement. She swept her hand along the smooth, taut skin that covered his ribs, a spike of excitement going through her when she felt him shiver and his cock lurch.

“I feel fine,” she whispered. She started slightly when he captured her wrist and pinned it next to her outer thigh.

“Don’t try me more than you already have,” he said.

She blinked in the darkness at his hard tone.

He exhaled heavily, and she sensed his frustration and regret. “I want to talk to you about something else,” he said, his voice calmer and hushed. “Are you on birth control?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “The pill.”

“I would like it very much if you saw my personal physician tomorrow before we return to the suburbs. I’ll see him as well.”

“Why?” she asked numbly.

“So that we can both have exams in order to determine if we’re safe. Sexually.”

She didn’t respond, her mind whirring.

“Would that be all right? We can sign releases so that we can see each other’s results.”

She leaned away from him, cool air filling in the space between their pressing skin.

“You really do think that I’m still sick in some way, don’t you?”

“No,” he said emphatically, his hand curling around her shoulder and bringing her back against him. “That’s not it at all. I just want to be inside you.”

“You mean . . . without a condom?”

“Yes. If you’re on birth control and we’re both healthy, I don’t see what’s preventing it.”

She sagged against him. He brushed his fingers through her hair, causing prickles of sensation along her neck and ear.

“What are you thinking?” he demanded.

“Well . . . it’s just . . . how do you know I won’t sleep with someone else while you’re away one of these times?” she fumbled.

His stroking fingers paused. “Do you plan to?”

“No!”

“So what you’re really asking is, how do you know that I’m not sleeping with someone else when we’re not together, is that right?”

“Yes. I guess so.”

He resumed stroking her hair. She could almost hear him thinking in the silence that followed. “Vanni?” she prompted after a moment, her anxiety getting the best of her.

“I was just thinking of how to respond to reassure you,” he said quietly. “The only thing I can think to do is be honest. It’s up to you whether or not you believe me. I’d understand if you didn’t. Do you recall me telling you at the beach after I returned from France that I was having trouble sleeping and eating because I couldn’t stop thinking about you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, entranced not only by his words, but also by the deep rumble of his voice vibrating against her skin and ear.

“I tried to be with another woman.” She stiffened in his arms. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but I thought, considering the circumstances, maybe it was called for.”

“What happened?” Emma whispered warily.

“I started out with the single-minded intention of getting you out of my head,” he said thoughtfully, his fingers curling in her hair, his palm cupping her head, his fingertips rubbing her scalp. Despite her anxiety over the topic, she found her eyelids drooping at his touch. “But it didn’t work. I didn’t want her.”

“How do you know there won’t be another that does make you forget me?” she whispered.

Her head dipped as he exhaled deeply. “I just know. You have my word. I know I’ve told you I’m selfish, but I’m also honest.” One finger caressed the shell of her ear, making all the tiny hairs there stand on end. “I’ve never asked this of a woman before. I’d prefer to have the boundary there, to be honest. Both in the literal and figurative sense,” he added dryly. “But you’re very rare,” he continued slowly, his voice low and gravelly. She had a distinct mental image of him staring up into the darkness, his expression thoughtful. “I dislike myself enough at times. I couldn’t bear to make it any worse by . . . spoiling you in any way . . . something so fresh.” Her heart paused in her chest when he faded off. “It’s something I just couldn’t do,” he resumed more firmly. “So in short, the only thing I can give you is my word. Maybe that’s not enough for you. I can tell you this, though. When I was in high school and college, I was a walking, talking lit fuse. I was determined to travel fast and furious all the way to hell without even a brief stop. Nothing made sense to me. Nothing mattered. It’s a wonder I made it to adulthood alive. Then something happened that brought me to my senses, something that made me realize the one thing that did matter, the one thing I could control, was my word. I couldn’t control anything else but that. It became my anchor. If I said a thing was going to happen, it happened. Too much else in the world didn’t make a bit of sense, but that, I could control. I’ve fought to make that my reality ever since then.”