She didn't know a lot of men who talked in bed, but it was a nice quality, she decided. She liked the brush of warm air touching her skin when he spoke against it. Enjoyed the earthy praise he scattered along with his kisses.

"You're soslight, I can count your ribs." Then he did. Kissing the lowest one and running his tongue along the ridge of bone. "One," he muttered, then climbed to the next rib, "Two," and so on until he was licking the underside of her breast, and he'd muddled his counting dreadfully.

When he s.h.i.+fted so he was between her thighs, she opened for him, spreading herself wide both physically and emotionally. That's how she was about s.e.x. It was never just physical for her, and sometimes it didn't work out and there was pain afterward, but oh, the pleasure in between.

So, she opened herself completely, and he entered her slowly, as though making love with her this first time was something he wanted to remember forever. The sky lightened a little more, and a streak of pink lit up the room so she saw the planes of his face more clearly, the dark gleam of his eyes, watching her.

Then he began to move. Slow at first, andso careful of her as their pa.s.sion built quietly, until she needed more friction, more speed. She grabbed his hips, digging her fingers into the wonderful tight muscles of his b.u.t.t and pulling him into her, increasing the rhythm until they were both breathing hard and a drop of warm sweat hit her cheek.

"Oh, you feel so good."

"Yes. Oh, yes." She felt very, very good. And then better, and then impossibly, wonderfully, heart-stirringlyoh, MonDieu !as she cried out and shattered.

One more long, beautiful thrust inside her pulsing body, another, causing tiny aftershocks to radiate deep within her; he wanted to hold himself back, she could tell, just as she knew he couldn't hold on much longer. His cry was guttural and fierce when he exploded deep within her body. She held him through his shudders, loving the feel of his muscles and skin so damp and hot rubbing against hers.

They kissed and held each other for a long time and then fell asleep just as day was breaking.

Vince woke to silence. He took a moment to stretch and orienthimself . A smug grin was plastered across his face where he suspected it would stay for days.

He reached out for Sophie, as he'd reached for her twice more during their few hours together, each time finding her sleepily responsive, and then wildly so. But the grin stalled when he realized he was alone in the bed. A glance at the clock told him it was ten-thirty. Late for him to start the day, but then, he hadn't exactly had a restful night.

Probably, she was making coffee, and breakfast, he thought as he rolled to his back and contemplated all the wonders of a gorgeous, s.e.xy, Cordon Bleu-trained dog sitter staying in his apartment.

He sniffed appreciatively, wondering what the chances were that she'd bring him the paper in bed.Hmm. Maybe the Doberman could be trained to fetch the Times and bring it to him on the weekends. He sniffed again ... but none of the mouth-watering smells from his fantasy were reaching him. No rich, dark coffee aroma, no scent of sizzling bacon.

It was so quiet he might as well be alone in the apartment. He didn't hear a single dog sound. No scratching at his door, no snuffling, no clicking nails on his hardwood floors, no howling, growling, barking of any kind.

He was out of bed and dragging on jeans in an instant.

"Sophie?" he called out as he yankedopen the bedroom door.

Nothing.

Evenmore odd , no clatter of tiny and oversized paws flying h.e.l.l for leather across the floor to maul him. Only silence.Eerie, heart-pounding silence.

Sophie was gone. The dogs were gone. He took a second to regroup and try to calm his pounding heart when it registered on his panicked brain that the leashes were also gone.

She'd taken off for a walk.

Panic turned to anger.

What was the matter with the woman? A crazy ex was stalking her and taking pot shots, and she was going back out there on foot. Did she have a death wish?

He was out of his front door and pounding down the hallway when he heard the elevator doors open, and there she was, looking as fresh as a spring morning, withLady andThe Tramp in tow, a brown bag from which heavenly fresh-bread scents arose, and a smile that had his heart pounding all over again. Instead of blasting off at her as he'd planned, he felt more like the Doberman, who gazed at her adoringly and drooled.

"Good morning," she said, in a soft, s.e.xy tone that reminded him of every intimate thing they'd done last night. Her accent was as soft and alluring as a caress. When she spoke he heard the slide of cottonbedsheets across heated, tangled limbs, the pant and sigh and "oh, that feels so good" of great s.e.x.

It was there in her sparkling eyes and knowing smile, the way he could see her nipples perk to attention flirtatiously as she gazed at him, so he felt his c.o.c.k stand to attention ready to flirt back.More than flirt.

He couldn't blast her, and he couldn't stand here in the hall with his tongue hanging out about to whine softly for a treat. He had something important to say, and he had to say it.

"You should have woken me," he managed.

Her smile curved higher. "You need your sleep.For later."

His lips turned to rubber. Not later, he wanted to say.

Now."I was worried." And in that second he realized how absurd it was to stand out in the hallway with the still-leashed dogs staring raptly up at the pair of them. TheDob sat, alert, as though at any moment a Frisbee was going to go sailing down the hall and he had to be ready to fly after it. Mimi was fully reclined, her head resting on her ridiculous manicured paws, only her beady black eyes following the conversation, her pom-pom tail wagging softly when she heard their voices.

Instantly, Sophie's eyes flashed sympathy."Oh, Vince. I am so sorry. I did not think. I only went to the French bakery. Come. I will make us some coffee, and you may scold me all you please."

She bustled pasthim, her hands full of dog leashes and paper sack, trailing an illusive fragrance that made him want to get her naked ASAP.

Pulling himself together with an effort, he followed her into his apartment and to the kitchen. Refusing to act like some boorish brutewho let the little woman do everything, he got the coffee started while she put bread, cheeses, and jam on the table. Not to be outdone, he pulled out his plastic squeeze bottle of honey in the shape of a bear. She fussed a little with dishes and napkins. Sliced melon and rinsed fresh strawberries. Put on a CD that one of his old girlfriends had left behind.One of those female crooners with a single bizarre name.Dido, maybe.OrEnya .

Once they were sitting and he'd poured them bothcoffee , he took a good hit of caffeine to get his brain in gear.

"Look, Sophie." He reached across and took her hand, was about to say, "You can't do that; you can't go out without telling me," when she leaned forward, squeezing his fingers with her own.

"I had a wonderful time last night."

Boom, there it went again, any sensible thought. He'd always thought the idea of a woman blowing a man's mind was a figment of songwriters' imaginations or teenage boys with crushes.But nope. Here he was, a thirty-four-year-old man with his mind blown clean of all rational thought.

Except the completely rational urge to be intimate with this fascinating woman.Nothing could keep the answering grin off his face. "I had a fantastic time, too." It was almost scary how good he felt this morning. Which only made her safety that much more vital to preserve.

"But here's the thing. You can't go out like that without telling me."

A tiny frown appeared between her brows. "But I have to. The dogs must be walked. I must shop for food."

"I'll walk the dogs until we have that b.a.s.t.a.r.d back behind bars." And if Vince could arrange a half hour or so with Sophie's insane stalking ex before the police nabbed him, he'd remind him that it was a very bad idea to mess with Sophie anymore.

Her frown deepened as she looked at him. Absently, she rubbed the spot where the wood chip had grazed her. "I can't believe Gregory would shoot at me. It doesn't seem like him."

"I know, honey. I'm sorry. I've got some friends who are cops. I've already called my buddy Ed. They'll get him soon, I promise. But until they do you have to stay here and be safe."

She pulled her hand away and reached for a slice of baguette, still warm from the bakery. "I must shop," she reminded him.

"We'll go together," he said. "We can buy in bulk, enough food for a few weeks."

Her nostrils flared as she made an expression of disgust. "Shop in bulk? One does not buy good, fresh food in a warehouse, Vincent. I cannot work this way."

A jug of wine, a stack of frozen Hungry Man dinners, and thou would do fine for Vince, but he had a pretty good idea she wouldn't feel that way.

Food kept you alive. Why did she have to go and make it an art form? "You can give me a list of things. I'll get them fresh."

"But I am supposed to be the caregiver. You can't do my work."

"I think after last night we've moved to a different level. Please. I can't let anything happen to you."

"But I'll be like a prisoner. I can't live like that." She rose suddenly, walked to his phone, and lifted the receiver.

What was she doing? Calling a cab? Cold sweat p.r.i.c.kled at his neck. She couldn't go like this; how could he protect her?

"Who are you phoning?"

"Gregory."

He rose, too. "You can't call him. Are you insane? He's trying to kill you."

She flapped her hand at him in a cla.s.sic shut up move. He thought about yanking the phone out of the wall, but retained enough sense to realize that acting like a barbarian wasn't going to rea.s.sure her about staying in hisapartment24/7. So he waited in frustrated silence for a few minutes.

Her shoulders slumped after a minute, and she replaced the phone. "He doesn't answer. The answer machine is not on." She flicked a glance his way, and he knew he'd convinced her, at least halfway. If her insane ex wasn't answering the phone at his place, then where the h.e.l.l was he?

Vince strode to the window and looked out, but no lunatic wearing a chef's hat and brandis.h.i.+ng a shotgun appeared to be hanging out down at street level. Still, he was glad he had a gun of his own, and at least one dog he could count on in a crisis. He forced himself to relax and turned back to Sophie. "Let's eat our breakfast," he said.

She nodded, but somehow the warm intimacy of earlier was gone.

A stalker with a gun was h.e.l.l on a budding romance.

Eight.

"What are we going to do, then,stuck here all day?"

"I have a few ideas."

"We can't make love all day," she said, shaking her head so her dark hair brushed her jaw and gesticulating with her hands, including the one that held bread spread with strawberry jam.

In her agitation, she waved the bread about, and a dollop of jam toppled off the bread to land on her s.h.i.+rt, where it covered the upper slope of her right breast.

"Merde!"she cried, dropping the bread on her plate and picking up a napkin. He watched the jam, fascinated. It caught the light when she moved and glowed ruby. He took the napkin from her and said, "Let me."

He leaned forward. He watched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rise and fall as she breathed, watched the patch of preserves. The scent of strawberry was as sweet as summer. He put his lips to the spot and sucked the jam into his mouth.

She laughed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning you up. I like to do a very thorough job," he promised her. He was thinking he'd get her mind off her troubles for a while, but the minute he got close to her, he was lost.

He looked down, and where he'd pulled part of her cotton s.h.i.+rt into his mouth, he'd left a crinkly round wet spot. There was still a little jam left, so he leaned forward and this time pulled more s.h.i.+rt into his mouth, and sneaky devil that he was, he managed to get her nipple this time.

There was some kind of flimsy bra there as well, but he still made the most of his position, using his teeth gently but firmly to be sure she felt him through all that fabric. She sighed and pushed forward against him, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him tighter against that wonderful round flesh. He smelled her laundry soap, and her skin, and strawberries.

He launched himself at the other breast until he'd made another patch of wet blouse and bra, and another nipple was hard on his tongue.

When he pulled back, he was breathing heavily, and so was she. Sunlight spilled through the window, tossing bars of light across the st.u.r.dy pine table, the food, and the woman laughing at him breathlessly. Suddenly, he was filled with a l.u.s.t so strong it was more need than desire.

"I want you," he said.

"I know." And she did. He could see his own desire reflecting back from her. Beneath the wet patches on her s.h.i.+rt her nipples were rock hard in the wet, wrinkled fabric-almost shocking against the elegant andunmussed rest of her.

He scooted closer and kissed her mouth, thrusting his tongue deep in his frantic need. She licked at him, nipped him,took over his mouth as he made short work of the b.u.t.tons down her front. He managed her bra by feel,then kissed his way down to her still-damp b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the centers puckered and her beautiful, sensitive, coral-tipped nipples luring him until he took one into his mouth.

It wasn't enough. It didn't seem like anything could ever be enough with this woman. He wanted all of her, now. His hands were under her skirt, reaching. She gripped the seat and lifted her hips so he could strip off her panties.

Crazed with l.u.s.t, he stood and shoved their breakfast to one end of the table. He heard athunk as something crashed to the floor, but he didn't much care. In the other room one of the dogs let out one m.u.f.fled bark at the sound, but neither came to investigate for which he was grateful. He didn't want a crowd watching what he was about to do.

He pulled Sophie from her seat and hoisted her to the edge of the table. She clung to his shoulders, reaching up so she could kiss him again. He could taste her urgency, feel her mounting desire, and it fueled his own. Or his fueled hers.

He bunched her skirt around her hips,then decided he needed her to be naked. So he took the extra few seconds to strip her of her skirt and then pushed her gently to her back until she was laid out on his table like a feast. Her skin was honey-toned in the warm light, her nipples dark coral. As she drew in a shuddering breath, he watched her rib cage rise, then the slight swell of her belly.

She was surrounded by the remains of their breakfast. The fruit, some bread, the jam, his squeeze bottle ofhoney . ., As he reached across her, she reminded him he was fully dressed still by grabbing his T-s.h.i.+rt and pulling.

One hand on the honey, the other reaching behind him, he yanked the thing over his head, put down the honey beside her raised knee, and then slipped the s.h.i.+rt off his arms.

Sophie rose to her elbows and without a word looked significantly toward his crotch. Some things could be communicated in any language, he realized, as he obligingly stripped out of the clothes he'd dressed in less than an hour ago.

He stepped between her knees, thought about parting them, then looked down at her, so glorious, the dark triangle of hair in the shadow cast by her raised legs. He wanted the sun on it.

"Open yourself for me," he said softly.

A tiny sound came from her throat. For a second she didn't move, and then she parted her knees with enough slowness to torture them both.

"All the way," he whispered, waiting until her thighs rested on the table, her knees hanging over. The sun turned her hair glossy, her thighs impossibly pale. He could see the faint line of a blue vein and followed it higher to where she was glistening with her own desire.Wet and plump and so very open for him.

If he went down on her now, which he wanted to do quite desperately, it would all be over far too quickly. He wanted to draw out their pleasure. So he picked up his bear-shaped squeeze bottle of honey, leaned right over her, and squirted a golden drizzle onto her right nipple, then drew a lazy line to her left.

"It feels cold," she gasped, when he trailed the honey down, between her ribs, across her belly, filling her belly b.u.t.ton with a golden pool of honey. Where he drizzled the honey goose b.u.mps sprang up. He thought it the most erotic sight. He stopped just below her navel, and her hips jerked a little, in frustration, he guessed. Good. He wanted her on edge.

At least as on edge as he was himself.

Back to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and he licked at the honey, swirled it around with his tongue, rubbed his lips until they were smothered with it, and kissed her mouth, covering her with sticky sweetness. He lapped at her lips, making her giggle, lapped his way back to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and tongued her until he no longer tasted sweetness, then continued to follow the sweet path he'd drawn. As he tracked his way south, her body began to tremble, and her sighs turned into quick pants.

As he dipped his tongue into her navel, he saw her hands grip the sides of the table. She never closed her legs, though. She kept herself completely open to him, and he loved her for it.

Her eyes were tightly closed so she never noticed when he picked up the honey bottle again. As hedrizzled the thick, golden liquid into her curls and over her pulsing c.l.i.t, she cried out.

She was wet, and sweet and sticky.Her own musky scent mingled with the honey, and he salivated as he closed in on her. The minute his tongue touched her she cried out. He felt the shudders already beginning; her intimate flesh was plump and sweet with her desire. As much as he wanted to make this last for both of them, she was too close, and he couldn't hold himself back. He lapped at her gently, until she tipped her hips up and pushed against him. Then he cupped her hips in his big hands and licked and sucked greedily. Her panting was growing harsh, her own wetness outpacing the honey, and then, when neither of them could wait another second, he sucked her c.l.i.t into his mouth and tongued her hard.

A cry seemed torn from her as she climaxed against his mouth. Her torso rose as though she were climbing a rope- literally trying to climb out of her own skin, he thought smugly.

He heard anotherMonDieuand then a lot of other stuff that sounded earthy and exactly the kind of thing a woman should say in the throes of o.r.g.a.s.m.Especially as he caught his own name in there.