Images of Sydney, sleek and naked in his arms, tormented him, adding to his physical discomfort.
Feeling like a voyeur, he listened as she peeled off her wet blouse, and held his breath as he imagined her unhooking her bra and freeing her lush breasts. He ached to reach out and cup them, so he clenched his hands into fists to keep from doing exactly that.
“There,” she said, and sighed. “You’re right. This blanket feels good. Much warmer.”
He couldn’t find his voice to answer, so he said nothing, listening to the storm, his heartbeat drumming in his ears, and the harsh sound of his uneven breathing.
Another crack of thunder, and the rain began to batter them. The accompanying flash of lightning showed Sydney, wrapped in the blanket and standing, body rigid, her eyes wide with silent terror.
Chase clenched his jaw. If he made it through this night without touching her, he should be awarded a medal.
“Come here,” he told her, shifting to shield her from his raging erection. “Lie down and let me hold you.”
“Thank you.” She settled on the ground next to him.
Then, touching her with only his upper body, he wrapped his arm around her slender, blanket-wrapped shoulders, and wondered how the hell he was going to get any sleep.
Sydney opened her eyes, drowsy and comfortably warm. Outside, the storm still raged, but wrapped in Chase’s muscular arms, her fear had vanished. The dim light told her morning had arrived.
And she was naked, curled up against his equally bare body. Instantly, she came awake, her heartbeat tripling.
Chase still slept, his chest rising with his deep and even breathing. With one arm, he kept her close to him, tucked spoonlike against him. Twisting slowly in his arms, she lay on her back and studied him. Even asleep, he was beautiful. The stubble on his chin made him look even more masculine, even more sexy.
She had no urge to move, nowhere to go. Content to watch him, she tried to figure out her own admittedly skewed logic. She and Chase. A man she barely knew, who’d made it quite plain what he thought of her.
If it weren’t so damn pitiful, she’d laugh. Chalk one up to feeling extremely vulnerable. Not only did she consider her and her unborn baby’s survival a miracle, but her companion on this deserted island was a drop-dead-gorgeous and sexy-as-hell man.
Another woman might have found this heaven. Sydney tried to decide if she was in hell. The last thing she—or her child—needed was another disastrous relationship.
It might have been better if she’d demanded he make her another shelter, but the truth of the matter was that she didn’t want to be alone.
No, if she was being totally honest, the simple reality was she craved his kiss, his touch, his smile.
Chase.
When he touched her she felt like the most desirable woman on earth.
She was an idiot: lying here naked while her clothes, surely dry by now, lay within arm’s reach of their makeshift bed.
But berating herself did little good. She was only human after all. Every time he shifted his body, she felt the movement vibrate along her nerve endings, straight to the inner core of her. The storm-moist air caressed her bare skin, and she felt hypersensitive. Everything—the rustle of the leaves underneath them, the rise and fall of his chest, his masculine scent, the way his tousled blond hair fell across his forehead—aroused her as she’d never been before.
He turned, still sleeping, and muttered something, too low for her to understand at first. A name? While she tried to puzzle that, he snuggled against her, his perfectly formed body pressed against the full length of hers. For an instant, she forgot to breathe.
Good Lord, how she wanted this man!
Tentatively, she stretched, rubbing herself against him like a starving cat. Her entire body tingled. Her breasts were tender and aching, and her pulse beat hot and heavy in places she’d never known it could.
Ah, temptation. One heartbeat away from continuing to move her body against him while he slept, she tried desperately to remember the reasons she shouldn’t. But all she could think about was how badly she wanted to stroke him, caress him, and take him beyond the bounds of his control before he woke and rationality set in. A veritable feast of man sprawled out before her, Chase unknowingly lured her to do things she’d never before done, even with Reginald. She’d placed her hand against his chest and begun to trace it lower before she realized she’d moved.
Horrified, she froze. What was wrong with her? Yes, she was attracted to him. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t be?
But she wasn’t like this. Sydney had always been different. Once, only once, had she given in to impulse and let Reginald’s lies persuade her to his bed. And now she carried his child, the baby of another beautiful man who’d broken her heart.
Had she learned nothing from her mistake? Having been a fool once, was she doomed to act foolishly forever?
“Sydney?”
Her breath caught. With a gasp, she removed her hand from him. “Yes?”
“You’re awake,” he said, his voice husky with sleep or, she shivered, desire. His hazel eyes roamed over her, reminding her she was still naked, stretched out seductively, as if she’d been waiting for him to wake and make love to her.
In a way, she had.
Feeling her face heat, she rolled away and grabbed for her clothes. The tattered shorts, once her favorite pair of slacks, were still damp. She pulled them on anyway.
“Yes. The storm woke me,” she said, struggling to yank her mostly dry blouse over her head.
Never taking his eyes from her, he sat up, dragging his hand through his hair. One corner of his mouth quirked in a smile. “Some storm. I’m glad this shelter held.”
Even fully clothed, her heart still raced like a runaway rabbit. She cleared her throat. “So far, so good. Not even a single leak.”
His gaze dropped lower, to her breasts, where her nipples pushed rebelliously against her ragged shirt. He gave a harsh intake of breath, his eyes darkening.
She couldn’t help but wonder if he was as turned on as she.
No way was she finding out. Knowing how volatile the situation could become, she climbed to her feet and crossed her arms.
He tilted his head, squinting up at her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Her need still pulsed within her, making her ache. She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, wishing she could think of something to say, something to diffuse the fierce sexual tension making the air feel so heavy.
Chase sat up, drawing the blanket close and carefully wrapping it around him.
“Sydney, don’t.” Though husky, his voice sounded tight, controlled, much like the man himself most of the time. If not for the hunger in his eyes, she’d think him unaffected. “Don’t try to seduce me.”
Seduce him? If he only knew how badly she wanted to and how hard she’d tried to resist him. She swallowed. “I’m not.”
Narrowing his gaze, he raked his hand through his hair. He looked away and cursed. “I don’t know what it is about you. I even see the promise of sex in your smile.”
“Sex in my smile?” Though she tossed his words back at him, a thrill ran through her at his words. “That sounds lovely, but it’s ridiculous. I’ve done nothing to entice you. I wouldn’t know how! I’ve never tried to seduce anyone in my life.”
He clenched his jaw and got to his feet, keeping the damn blanket snug around his waist. “But you have. Maybe you don’t realize it, but everything about you is a seduction. The way you move, the way