“Don’t let me interrupt you if you wanted to get more exercise,” she said, feeling a little self-conscious in her new swimsuit beneath the hot sun and Vanni’s stare. He grabbed ahold of the side of the pool with one hand, his forearm just an inch from her thigh. Her skin looked shockingly white next to his gilded glory.

“I’m fine. Here,” he said, holding out his other hand. She realized he wanted her to hand him the sunscreen bottle. She gave it to him. His narrowed aquamarine eyes seemed to glow in his burnished face as he studied the label.

“It’s a high enough SPF,” he said approvingly. “You’re very pale.”

She blushed at his matter-of-fact assessment.

He handed the bottle back to her, placed his hands on the side of the pool, and heaved himself out of the water with a fascinating flex of muscle. A small amount of water sprayed her, but mostly she was spellbound by his show of effortless strength and male beauty. He wore a pair of black trunks. They hung very low at his hips, highlighting the full, glorious spread of his Adonis-like torso. She unglued her gaze from the image of his ridged, taut abdomen sheened by moisture moving subtly in and out as he breathed.

“I keep a bottle in my purse,” she said holding up the sunscreen. Her fingers loosened in surprise when he reached for the bottle again. “I have to be prepared at all times, or else . . .”

“You burn?” Vanni filled in when she faded off. She watched him as he unscrewed the cap and squeezed a large dollop of the white liquid into his open hand.

“Yeah, but it’s these I worry about,” she pointed at her nose, “I really have to watch out for them getting worse,” she admitted wryly.

His teeth flashed in his sun-darkened face. She tightened at her core. Vanni’s smiles were like mainlining a sex stimulant.

“Your freckles, you mean?” He dipped his forefinger into the lotion and touched it to her nose. “I love these things,” he said, rubbing the sunscreen into her skin carefully. Emma’s eyes almost crossed as she watched him.

“You do?”

He nodded, his smile fading as he continued to smooth in the lotion.” Very sexy,” he said gruffly.

Her mouth fell open. His brows quirked.

“What? You don’t believe me?” he asked.

“I guess so,” Emma said, hiding her surprise. “It’s just kind of hard to imagine, I’ve hated them for so long.” He dropped his hand, apparently satisfied with that part of his task. He rubbed his hands together, spreading the lotion onto both palms. It was a very distracting sight.

“They’re as adorable and fresh as the rest of you. Twist around a little so I can do your back and shoulders.”

She did it quickly, glad for an excuse to hide her blush. He’d tease her about that, too.

“Is this stuff waterproof?” he asked from behind her as he spread the lotion onto her shoulders and the backs of her arms, kneading the muscles gently with strong fingers. The summer sun warmed the liquid. It felt wonderful.

“Yes,” she murmured, feeling a little drugged by his massaging hands. He transferred them to her back. His fingers slid beneath the strap of her bikini. Her eyes sprung open when the clasp released. In one quick motion, he drew the top over her head and tossed it aside.

“Vanni,” she said, stunned, her nipples prickling when a cool breeze swirled around them.

“What? There’s no one around,” he said unconcernedly, rubbing the lotion down her lower back.

“Oh. Okay.”

His low chuckle near her ear made the hair on her neck stand on end. “You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“No,” she said, careful not to face him.

“If this makes you blush,” he said, ignoring her denial. “You’re going to be permanently red in the South of France.”

It took her a second to figure out what he meant. “Oh . . . because they sunbathe topless there?”

“Don’t worry, Emma,” he said. She heard the smile in his voice and realized he’d probably heard the thread of her anxiety. “It’s not like it’s a law or something. You’ll do whatever you’re comfortable doing. Come here,” he said quietly, his hands just above her waist. He hauled her into his lap. She squeaked in surprise, not only because she hadn’t expected it, but also because he was wet and she wasn’t.

As she settled, however, she realized he was warm beneath the cool moisture, and hard and . . . very nice.

“It’s easier to get at all of you this way,” he said, and she heard the sound of the bottle squeezing. She started to luxuriate at the sensation of sitting in his lap beneath a hot summer sun. She straightened in surprise, however, when instead of rubbing lotion onto her back, like she expected, he reached under her arms and cupped her breasts.

“Relax,” he urged from behind her. It was a little hard to do, though, because his cock had twitched under her ass at the moment he touched her breasts. Plus, it felt decadent, having her breasts massaged by Vanni’s lubricated, warm hands. He rubbed his whiskers gently against the back of her shoulder and she moaned. The slight abrasion in contrast with his squeezing, sliding hands sent a jolt of excitement through her. “You don’t think I’d let these beauties burn, do you?” he asked next to her shoulder, his deep, rough voice a rich seduction. “They’re even paler than the rest of you.”

Emma swallowed thickly. The dancing blue water sparkled in her eyes, entrancing her. She couldn’t think of what to say. She couldn’t think of anything.

“Emma?” he said, and his sharp voice cut through her dazed arousal.

“Yes?”

“You’re holding yourself off me. Stop it.”

She blinked, coming to herself at his hard tone. She realized she’d placed her hands on the outside of his thighs and that her arms were tense.

“Oh,” she said. It wasn’t as if she’d literally been suspended over him, but she had been resisting giving him all her weight. She relaxed her arms, letting herself sink fully against his hard thighs and cock.

“That’s better,” he said, his hands still massaging her breasts. “Why do you always act like my cock is going to burn you or something?”

She heard the focused puzzlement in his tone. It both amazed and aroused her, the way he always spoke of sexual things without a trace of self-consciousness.

“I guess because it does,” she admitted honestly. His massaging hands slowed. She felt him swell beneath her ass. “Not literally, obviously.” She rolled her eyes in frustration at her lame explanation. “I just mean you overwhelm me,” she said, closing her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her scrunched-up face.

“And that’s a bad or good thing?” he asked warily.

Her eyelids sprung open. Had he actually sounded worried? Vanni Montand?

“It’s a very, very good thing,” she assured. “I’m just not used to so much . . . potency.”

He resumed massaging her breasts. She could almost hear him thinking behind her. He rubbed her nipples with his thumb and forefinger, the sensation delicious with the lubrication. She flexed her hips into his cock and whimpered.

The moment felt very ripe with sensuality—the hot sun beating down on them, his cock growing erect beneath her ass, his big, warm hands massaging her bare breasts; but there was a tenderness to the unfolding seconds as well, a breathless fragility. She’d sensed a crack in his golden, rigid armor and realized that despite all his effortless confidence, he wasn’t all that different from her.

“Vanni?” she asked quietly, not looking around, but hyperaware of his face just behind her right shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever . . . done what we did . . . in the dressing room today?”

“Had sex in a department store?”

She laughed uncomfortably. “No . . . had sex without protection. I’m only asking because I haven’t,” she said quickly, anxious when he didn’t immediately respond.

“You haven’t?” he asked, his hands sweeping over her ribs and sides, spreading the lotion there. She shivered in pleasure and shook her head.