When she followed him past her car and up to the shop, he was relieved.

Once they were inside, he led her right over to his bed, forcing her down gently, getting her as close to the potbellied stove as he could. Moving quickly, he put some more wood on the fire and went into the bathroom. After the shower was running strong, he picked up the wet towel he'd used after his workout and shut the door so the room would warm up.

"Water should be ready in a minute." He tossed the towel into the laundry duffel and went over to the desk. He dialed Gray's.

"Libby?" he said when the woman answered. "I have her. She's fine. Just warming up. No, she's okay. She'll be home in a while."

He hung up and looked across the room.

Cassandra was shivering more now that she was out of the cold.

"Let's get your boots off," he said, going over to her. He leaned on his cane and lowered himself to her feet.

"I can do it." But when she reached down, her fingers skipped over the laces.

He removed her Timberlands, being careful with the one on the right. Then he stripped off her socks.

She had very pretty feet.

He curled his hand around her ankle and he felt the bones again, sliding his palm under her pant leg and up her calf. Her long johns prevented him from knowing how smooth her skin was. Which was just as well.

When she went dead still under his touch, he knew she was hiding something from him.

"Where's the pain?" he asked in a low voice. "Cassandra?"

He looked up. Her eyes were watching him from under lowered lids.

"Cassandra, where does it hurt?"

"It doesn't. Not really."

Yeah, right. Then why was she so motionless? "Look, I know you don't think you need a physician, but tomorrow you should go see Doc John."

"I'm driving back to Manhattan tomorrow. First thing in the morning."

He frowned. "Why?"

"The holidays."

"When will you be back?"

"Right after New Year's."

God, that was forever. "Do you need help getting to the bathroom?"

She shook her head and started to shrug out of her parka. Her hands were clumsy as she took it off and he eyed her flannel shirt. The thing was buttoned to the neck.

Instead of getting up and going to the desk, Alex nudged her hands aside.

"Let me do it," he said gruffly.

"No, I can-"

"Yeah, right." When she tried to bat him away, he muttered, "Don't worry, I've seen it all before."

That last comment was for him, not her. He couldn't believe he was about to take off her clothes.

She was silent as he worked on the flannel, which was just fine with him. Any conversation would have gone nowhere because he was using all his focus to keep his hands from shaking as badly as hers were. Especially as he went for the button between her breasts.

Even though she was wearing a turtleneck under the shirt, he imagined he was seeing her with nothing on. The idea of all that creamy skin...

Her breath caught and he flicked his eyes to her face. She was watching his fingers.

He tugged the shirt free of her waistband and undid the last three buttons. Then he slowly slid the flannel from her shoulders. Now he didn't look at her face. He couldn't. His body was alive, the heat tightening his gut, hardening him.

He didn't want her to know it.

"I can get the turtleneck," she said roughly.

He nodded. "How about your pants?"

"I'm sure I'll figure a way-"

"Button-fly, aren't they? So let me do it." When she didn't say anything, he reached for the waistband. The top fastening came free easily. So did the next. And the one after that. And the fourth. And the final.

The jeans parted, revealing a thick pair of red long johns.

Alex swallowed and gripped the belt loops. "Lift your hips."

Her body shifted, her breasts rising. He should only have drawn the jeans off her, but he hooked his thumbs under the waist of the long johns, too. He took it all down, moving over her thighs and her knees, tracing each inch of flesh that he exposed with his eyes.

Her panties were white silk.

He looked away, knowing he was about to fall on her like a starving man.

"Water'll be warm now," he said in a clipped voice as he folded up what he had removed. "I'll give you my back for the rest. That bathroom's too small to undress in, trust me."

He struggled off the floor and limped over to the desk. When he sat down, he tried to look at the plans he'd been reworking. And could have been staring at a blank wall for all they held his attention.

As he heard the bed springs creak softly, he looked into the window and caught the reflection of her standing up. She gripped the edge of the turtleneck and slowly lifted it up and over her head as if she were stiff.

Alex saw her breasts in profile, the gentle swells covered with wisps of silk. He told himself to shut his eyes but couldn't as her hands moved to the front of her bra and released a catch. With an arch that pushed taut tips out, she took the thing off and let it drop to the mattress. Then she slid her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and took them down to the floor.

He swallowed a groan. And watched her coil her hair up and tie it in place.

When she disappeared into the bathroom, Alex cursed himself, his body hard as the wooden chair he was sitting in.

He told himself he was going to stay right where he was.

Over and over again.

Chapter Nine.

Cass stepped under the hot spray, craning her neck so the water hit her face and ran down her body. She was trembling, but not from the cold.

From Alex.

She was so pathetic. He'd been nothing but clinical in the way he'd touched her, especially while undressing her. But the sight of his long fingers unbuttoning her shirt and then her pants...His dark head lowered, the clean smell of him so close...She'd wanted to lie back on that bed and pull him on top of her.

Cass closed her eyes. Yeah, that was a good plan. Exactly what someone did when they were letting a man go. Right. Sure.

Except, she knew he would feel so perfect against her. He would be warm and heavy, those muscles shifting as he loved her body with his own.

From out of the past, she had a sudden image of him stepping naked from that bathroom on the boat- Oh, dear Lord.

Her eyes popped open and she squeezed her arms around herself.

Oh, no.

She wanted him. And it wasn't just now. She had...wanted him for a long time.

It had started on that trip. That trip she and Reese had taken with him to the Bahamas. That trip when she'd caught him in the cabin by mistake. She'd gone below deck to get a drink, thinking she and Reese were alone on the boat. Alex had emerged from the bathroom, beautifully naked, droplets of water clinging to the smooth skin of his back. He'd looked over his shoulder, his tattoo shifting as he did, his eyes narrowing as he'd caught her red-handed.

He must have seen something in her face that day. And that was why he'd left the boat at the next port.

No wonder the guy didn't want her around. Alex had honor. He wouldn't stand for being ogled by his best friend's wife.

Oh...hell.

Although, it wasn't as if she would ever have acted on her attraction. She'd taken her wedding vows very seriously, all of them. But Alex couldn't have known that.

Opening her eyes, she looked at the soap and the shampoo he used. As she pictured him standing naked where she was, she knew she had to get back to Gray's right away.

She was so much better off being angry at Alex, she thought. Because now, after she'd spent two hours in the cold, and then been rescued by the man, she was feeling vulnerable. And vulnerable was not good, not around him.

When she got out of the shower, she looked around for a towel and couldn't find one. She cracked the door open a little. Alex was sitting at his desk, bent over sailboat plans. She noticed he'd taken off the cast.

"Excuse me, Alex?"

"Yeah?" His voice was not encouraging.

"Do you have a towel I could use?"

She thought she heard him curse under his breath as the chair was pushed back.

He went to the duffels on the floor, pulled a navy blue square from one of them, and snapped it so it unfolded. She put her hand out, expecting him to throw the thing over.

Instead he brought it to her.

"Thanks. I'll get out of your hair-"

She pulled on the towel a little. He didn't let go.

Her eyes lifted to his. "Alex?"

He said nothing.

A long silence stretched out between them, and she had the vague sense they were on the brink of something.

"Alex?"

He didn't answer her. Instead, he pushed the door open with his shoulders and came into the bathroom, holding the towel up to her body. As he shut them in together, she squeezed back into the shower stall because it was either that or she would be on him like another set of clothes.

Mist swirled around as he let her take hold of the towel. Then he reached up and pulled her hair out of the knot she'd put it in.

"Alex," she whispered. "What are you doing?"

He lifted his hand and cupped her chin. In a slow sweep, his thumb brushed over her lower lip.

Her body came alive, heat scorching her bones, incinerating common sense. She stared up at him, unable to move as he loomed over her. His face was impassive, made of stone, but she could sense the coiled need in him, the powerful sexual drive churning in his blood.

His thumb pressed into her mouth, penetrating her as he tightened his hold on her chin. He pushed in and out, caressing her, taking her, and her body responded as if it were his hips, not his thumb, her core, not her mouth. She swayed, breath leaving her in a rush, her heart pounding.

A feeling of total dislocation overcame her. She couldn't understand how he'd ended up in the bathroom with her. Why he was touching her as he was. How this change had occurred.

But there were two things she didn't question. His need. Her response.

"Do you want this?" he asked roughly.

"This" was crazy. Confusing. A total turnaround for him and a revelation for her. But yes, she did, she wanted him.

Cass replied the only way she could. She pulled her lips in tight and sucked his finger.

With a low growl, he slid his thumb from her mouth and leaned forward. Her lips parted, but at the last moment he veered to the side and found her neck. His teeth closed gently on the side of her throat and then he licked where he'd nipped her. Her head fell back as his strong arms wound around her and pulled her against him.

He was so tall he had to bend down to stay at her throat, and she bowed with him. She felt the broad expanse of his chest against hers. His hard belly. His thighs.

And between his legs, his thick arousal.

She was shocked that he wanted her. But then his hands started moving over her and she stopped thinking. His lips nibbled their way down to her collarbone, traveling, nuzzling. She grabbed on to his shoulders.