“I never leave…” He almost said “evidence,” but his head was clear enough to stop, and she was right.

With a cursory glance around the deck, and fairly certain no one was around, he followed her, but stopped at the air compressor.

“How’d you know?” he whispered.

“The air intakes were removed. When you didn’t come up in seven minutes, I worried.”

He stuck his hand under the valve and felt the empty slot. Son of a bitch. He’d checked them. He’d checked them both when he moved the compressor, checked the gas level, too.

Someone took them out while he was getting Lizzie from her cabin.

She pulled his hand, her body quivering with cold. “Come on. You have to get warm. We both do.”

He followed her, instantly warmer inside the stairwell, but she was still shivering.

He was clearheaded enough to close and lock her cabin without making a sound. “Hot shower. Strip.”

But she was already in the head, reaching into the shower stall, turning on the water in the head with one hand, and pulling at her sopping sweatshirt with the other. He shoved his trunks off as she got the top off, both wet pieces coming at once. She skipped the bra, but was shaking so hard she couldn’t untie the drawstring of her sweatpants, so he just pushed her under the hot water, getting in with her and closing the shower door to keep the heat in, grateful her cabin was more deluxe than his.

“Are you okay?” she asked again, color finally returning to her lips. “You still didn’t tell me your name.”

He choked a laugh, pulling her into him so they were both completely under the stream, which wasn’t nearly as hot or hard as he would have liked it to be. “We’ve done this before. Does that prove I know who I am and who you are?”

She nodded, pressing against him, the warmth finally getting through his skin. And then she put her head on his chest and he felt her whole body relax.

“I thought I was going to pull up a dead man,” she murmured.

“You thought I was going to lose your precious scepter?”

“No.” She looked up at him. “I really thought… never mind.”

They didn’t move, letting the water warm and soak them. Finally, she looked up at him. Her lips weren’t blue at all anymore. They were pink and wet and parted, and he ached for their warmth. Tunneling into her soaking hair, he pulled her up to meet his mouth and kissed her.

She folded right into his arms, the only thing between them a stream of warm water and her very wet pants, which molded to his body. She stood on her toes, opened her mouth, and kissed him back, still shuddering.

One hand stroked his face, as if she were kissing him out of continued concern, but her hips nudged forward and her breasts pressed against him in a way that had nothing to do with concern.

He slipped his tongue between her lips, slanting his head, which only sent more water cascading down their cheeks and into their mouths, the sensation sexy enough to make his whole lower half tighten.

Flattening one hand on her back, he pulled her harder against him, the heat and wet and womanliness of her body like an elixir, sweet and irresistible.

She finally broke the kiss, but her eyes stayed closed and she swayed a tiny bit in his arms.

“Now who’s disoriented?” he asked.

“I’m just… warm.”

He kissed her forehead and tilted her face up so that she opened her eyes and he could drink in the whiskey color, her lashes thick with water, her pupils wide with arousal.

“That’s the idea,” he said. “Body warmth.”

“This is your cure for hypothermia?”

He smiled. “Don’t knock it.” Once more, he kissed her, harder this time, not even trying to fight the rush of blood or the response. With one hand, he reached behind her and twisted the knob of the shower, stopping the spray.

“Don’t move,” he murmured, opening the door and grabbing a towel. He was back in the shower in an instant, as much to get close to her as to keep the warmth and steam captured around them.

He wrapped the towel around her shoulders like a cape. “Hold this on you.”

She did, clutching it with both hands as he moved to untie the drawstring of her pants.

“These have to go. They’re soaked and you’ll freeze in them,” he explained, giving the wet string a good tug and finally freeing the knot. He pushed them over her hips, the sopping material taking her panties with it.

“You’ve seen me naked twice now,” she said.

He dipped lower as he dragged the pants down, his face eye level with the towel, and then her hips and the dark tuft between her legs.

“Gets better every time.” And different. No fear of acid burns this time, no certainty that he had the target of his investigation. This time, he had a woman who’d just risked her life-and her objective-to save his life.

The thought shot through him, hardening an already stiff erection even more as he crouched on the balls of his feet in front of her.

He had the pants to her ankles, lifted one of her feet out, then the other. She backed into the fiberglass wall. He didn’t look up. He wanted to, wanted to see if there was invitation or warning in her eyes, but the gentle pressure on his shoulders told him what he’d see.

He kissed the inside of her thigh, softly, and heard her exhale a slow breath.

“Con.”

He kissed the other thigh, this time stroking the flesh with his tongue in a slow, small circle.

Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, so he licked higher, closer to her center, a long, slow trail of tongue on skin that tasted so sweet and warm he let out a soft groan of his own.

Her womanhood glistened in front of him. Beautifully pink, slightly swollen, scented with remnants of saltwater and sex. He inched back, looking up to meet her gaze.

But her eyes were closed, her head was back, and her hands gripped his shoulders as though they were the only thing that could keep her from falling into his mouth.

Getting closer, he put his fingers on the soft flesh of her inner thighs, easing them further apart, as he took the first delicious swipe over her.

Her legs buckled, but she hung on to him, rocking her hips forward. He licked her again, curling his tongue in the folds of her flesh, tasting warmth and salty, tangy woman.

Closing his hands over her hips, he crouched lower, to get under, get his tongue in deeper.

“Con.” She dug her hands into his head. “What… are…”

He sucked gently, kissed the inside of her thighs, adjusted his position to kneel right in front of her.

“Hypothermia treatment,” he said softly, glancing up and letting his eyes do the smiling. “To be sure you’re warm.”

He curled his tongue inside her again, magnetically drawn to the taste of her, his cock throbbing a full erection from the sight and smell of her woman’s body. He wanted to be inside her.

“I’m… oh… warm.”

Snap.

His head jerked back at the sound.

“Wha-”

“Shhh.” He held up a hand to silence her question, rocking back and propelling himself up to a stand.

The click of a latch was barely audible over the blood in his ears, but Con was up in an instant, using every cell in his body to pinpoint the source of the sound.

“I didn’t hear-”

“Don’t move.” He spun and shoved open the head door and stepped into the cabin, his attention on the knob as it turned. He held up his hand to silence Lizzie behind him, walking to the door, wanting the full impact of surprise on his side.

The hatch slowly creaked open, separating from the rubber strip with a suction sound.

Charlotte Gorman’s nose peeked in first, then her face, her eyes popping at the sight of Con. “Oh.”

“Can I help you?”

Her gaze dropped over his torso, her color rising as she jerked back behind the door in embarrassment. “I was looking for Lizzie.”

Lizzie bounded forward, the towel wrapped under her arms and knotted now, passing Con with a quick look. “It’s only Charlotte.”