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where her bones felt soft and pliant, just like the way his mouth moved over her.

She was shaking, from her legs to her torso and arms. Clay continued to kiss her as he stepped in front of her, pushed down his shorts, and suddenly she heard the tearing of a condom wrapper and felt herself being lifted.

Her back scraped the wall as he thrust inside her. She didn’t care, because all she knew was the feeling of being filled by his cock. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her buttocks as he held her while he rammed into her, hard. She held on to his shoulders and rocked against him, wanting to give him exactly what he gave her.

“Yes,” she said, twining her fingers up into the soft darkness of his hair. “Again.”

He thrust again, and she knew she’d be bruised from this. She didn’t care. She wanted marks on her, wanted to remember everything from tonight, from this last time with the man she . . .

With Clay.

And as he pumped inside her, she used her fingertips to trace the lines on his face, the fullness of his lips, to memorize everything about him, because this would be the last time she’d be this close to him.

Again he drove, deeper this time, becoming part of her. He was already part of her, would always be part of her.

Again, he thrust against her, rolling his hips this time, grinding against her clit. Her lips parted and she tightened, felt her orgasm from deep within.

“Yes,” he said, his face taking on that angry quality she loved so much, the expression that said he was close to the edge.

“Come inside me,” she whispered, then pulled at his hair when she came, called out his name when her orgasm hit her full force. He went with her, and this time he was as loud as she was, groaning as he pumped repeatedly against her until he shuddered, let her legs down and rested against her.

This had been the last time.

She felt his heart pounding against hers and lifted her palm to rest it against his chest.

She never thought she could love anyone again, that James had been it for her.

She’d been so wrong. She loved Clay, loved going to sleep with him at night, loved waking up with him next to her in the morning. She loved working side by side with him, arguing with him, laughing with him. She loved everything about him. He was as

different from James as any man could be. James had been quiet and sweet and passive.

Clay was demonstrative and brusque and such a typical alpha male, but there was

something about him that she craved, that she needed.

She didn’t want to let him go.

But she knew she had to.

This had been fantasy, and what they had would never work in the real world.

Eight

Being back at work was both a blessing and a curse. Ella had thrown herself into the business, which had picked up like crazy while she’d been gone. She’d spent the first few days buried in paperwork that needed addressing. By the time she’d caught up with that, she’d headed out to a few of the jobsites to catch up on the status of some of the ongoing projects, including a new startup.

Plenty to do and enough work to occupy her mind and body. She was putting in

twelve-hour days, seven days a week, coming home exhausted every night, her mind and body numb. She’d strip out of her clothes, step into the shower, grab something to eat and either read a book or veg in front of the television until she crawled into bed and passed out.

Which meant she had no time to think about Clay. Or almost no time, because despite filling her days and nights, he still crept into her thoughts.

She hadn’t seen him in the two weeks she’d been back. At the airport in Hawaii, she’d told him to pretend this had never happened, that he should treat her as if they’d never spent this week together.

Something odd had crossed his face. Regret, maybe? But then he’d flashed a grin at her, kissed her hard and told her if she ever wanted a repeat performance in Hawaii, he was all up for playing stud. She laughed and turned away, hurried down the gangplank so he wouldn’t see the tears coating her eyes. She decided she’d seen in his eyes only what she wanted to see. He’d thought of that week in Hawaii as fun and sex and nothing more than that. And that was what she was going to think about it. Fun. Sex.

Over and done with. She was not in love with him. Her heart was not aching for him. Her body was not missing his touch.

“Woman. You avoiding me?”

Ella’s head snapped up at the voice. Tish stood in her doorway, frowning at her.

Ella smiled. “Of course not. I’ve been buried since I got back.”

Tish came in, tossed her purse on the floor and flounced into the cushioned chair in front of Ella’s desk. “Okay, spill. I want to hear all about it.”

Tish was the last person she was going to tell. She leaned back in her chair, thankful it was after working hours and no one else was around. “It was . . . good.”

“Uh-huh. That’s not exactly the level of detail I was looking for.”

Ella launched into all the activities she’d done on the island.

“I don’t care about shopping or snorkeling, girl. I want to hear about you and Clay.”

She winced. “So you know about that.”

“Who the hell do you think put you two together? Come on.”

She wanted to ask Tish how he was, if he’d asked about her at all. So high school. She wasn’t going to go there. She’d been the one to tell Clay to keep his distance, to keep things between them professional only.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

But Tish was her friend. She had to talk to someone. “It was unlike anything I thought it would

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