“I know.” He was silent a moment and then shrugged. “Sorry. If I remember correctly, I told you that self-pity wasn't allowed, and I seem to be drowning in it. I guess it's a case of do what I say, not what I do. But it's over now, so you can go back to bed and try to—”

“Bullshit.” She jumped to her feet. “It's not over.” She went around the bed, pulled down the sheet, and lay down. “And I'm not leaving you. So turn out the light and lie down.”

He went still. “I beg your pardon?”

“Lie down.”

“Why? Is this some kind of bizarre sexual therapy?”

“Trust a man's mind to go straight to sex. At the moment I don't believe you're in any mood to screw anyone, even Gwyneth Paltrow. You're sad and tired and maybe want to hold on to someone.” She met his gaze for a long moment before holding out her hand. “I could use someone to hold on to too.”

He hesitated and then took her hand. “And your maternal protectiveness is flying banner high.”

She smiled. “Or maybe I don't want to have to bother to come back here if you have another emotional jag. You woke me out of a sound sleep.”

“Now you know how I feel.” He turned off the lamp and lay down beside her. “And I refuse to feel sorry for you.”

“Aren't you going to take off your clothes?”

“No.” He pulled her close so that her head tucked into his shoulder. “This is fine. This is good.”

Yes, it was. She felt warm and safe and sheltered against him. She'd wanted to give comfort but found herself taking it. Or sharing it? They were as close mentally as they were now physically, and it was difficult to define the emotion. “It's all right with me, you know. Living in a firehouse gets rid of any prudery.”

“I'll keep my clothes on, thank you. Though it's more of a reminder than a barrier.” His lips brushed her forehead. “Because you were right.”

“About what?”

“That a man's mind goes straight to sex.” His hand stroked her hair as he whispered, “And you can never tell when his mood might change.”

Crystal blue lake.

Soft breeze blowing through the high grass.

“What the hell?” Silver stood up and moved away from her. “I don't know what happened. God, I swear I never meant to do this, Kerry.”

“I know you didn't.” She smiled. “But I did.”

His gaze shifted back to her. “What?”

“Oh, I haven't discovered a new talent. There's no way I could build a scenario like this. But I'm close enough to you now to be able to tap into your memory bank. I wasn't sure I could, but a little exploration and there I was. . . .” She looked out at the lake. “Here. Where I wanted to be. Where I wanted you to be.”

“Good God, I've created a monster.”

“No such thing. But you should have expected me to grab hold and run with it.”

“I suppose I should have.” He smiled. “But why? Why did you want to come here?”

“Because this is the place you brought me to to take away pain. I thought it might help. You wouldn't do it for yourself. It would have been too much like self-indulgence. Heaven forbid you give yourself a break.”

“Oh? And where did you get the idea I was that self-sacrificing? I assure you I can be as selfish as they come given the right circumstances.”

“Then be selfish, dammit. Where can you find more ideal circumstances?”

“I can think of a few.”

She inhaled sharply as a wave of heat shocked through her. He was looking at her as he had that other day, and she became acutely aware of the tension of his muscles, the movement of his chest as he breathed in and out, his eyes . . .

“You shouldn't have brought me here,” he said thickly. “You didn't think far enough ahead. You blunt the pain and you remove the distraction. Believe me, I needed the distraction.”

She wasn't about to pretend she didn't know what he meant. Sex. Raw, hot, urgent. All the more powerful for the bond they shared. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to move her hands on his back and feel him tense against her. How would it be to have him sink—

“Don't even think about it,” Silver said harshly. “I'm trying to keep this thing between us on an even keel. Do you think this is easy for me?”

“I don't care about your even keel.” She got to her feet and moved toward him. “You know what I want.”

“Hell, yes. And I don't know whether I purposely caused it to happen.” His hands reached out and grasped her shoulders. “I tried not to do it. But I wanted you and I might have made sure you wanted me.”

“Don't be so conceited. I believe I'd be able to know whether or not you'd manipulated me when it came to sex.”

“But you can't be sure.”

“I learned when I was fighting fires that there comes a time when you just have to trust your instincts.”

“Listen, you're feeling all warm and soft because you're sorry for me. But unless you back off now, I'm not going to give a damn about the whys or wherefores.”

“Good. Because no matter how this started, it's pretty clear to me that I don't want to go to bed with you because I pity you.” She grimaced. “Maybe I'm just using it as an excuse. Take a peek and you tell me.”

He muttered a curse. “I'm not getting any closer to you than I have to, either mentally or physically. It's not fair to you. In spite of what you say about your wonderful firefighter instincts.”

“Screw being fair to me.” Her fingers touched his lips. They were warm and firm, and a tiny shock of sensation rippled through her. “My instinct tells me that I want this because I find you sexy as hell and that I'd want you if I was blind to that damn talent of yours.”

“What if your instinct is—” A shudder ran through him as she stepped closer and pressed against him. “Shit.” His arms closed around her. “You definitely know how to clinch an argument.” His head bent until their lips were only a breath apart. “Okay, but I have only one qualification. No buffer. No dream-lake scenario.”

Darkness.

Swirling heat.

Skin against skin.

She opened her eyes to see him above her on the bed. It took her a moment to come to full wakefulness. “You took your clothes off. . . .”

“You bet I did.” He pulled her sleep shirt over her head and threw it aside. “I don't want anything between us. Not a piece of material, not a—” He broke off as his chest touched her breasts. “Jesus.”

She knew how he felt. Her skin was flushed, burning, taut, and ready. “I can't— Come here.” Her legs curled around his hips and drew him toward her. “I need you to—” She arched with a cry as she felt him move against her.

“I know. I will.” He bent over her. “Anything you want.”

Anything she wanted, she thought dazedly. He was already giving her what she wanted. But there was something she had to know, something she had to ask. “The lake,” she whispered. “Why did you take me away from the lake?”

“Because I couldn't stand for it to happen there.” He moved between her legs. “Because it's got to be real. . . .”

13

Well, was it real enough for you?” Kerry rose on her elbow to look down at him, trying to catch her breath. “If it wasn't, then you're out of luck. I don't think it gets any earthier than this.”

“We could try again and see.” His hand covered her breast. “I believe in frequent reality checks.”

She chuckled. “I can see why you'd need them.” She flopped back down on the pillow and stretched lazily. “Give me a little time to get my breath. I didn't expect—I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. You're very . . . strong.”