Her heart pounded in anticipation. His beat rapidly against her chest. Then his teeth were scraping along her jawline, down her neck. She arched her back, gave him full access as his mouth covered one nipple. Even through the satin she felt the scorching heat of his tongue, the marvelous waves of sensation that rippled through her body as his teeth snagged her nipple lightly. He opened his mouth again, released her nipple then sucked her breast greedily.

  “Max.” His name was a tortured whisper as her center pulsated with need.

  He was going too fast; this was happening too fast. Her voice echoed in his head, fierce arousal gripped his body, but his mind ached for more. With careful strides he carried her into the bedroom, laying her down onto the bed slowly.

  His fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, but she came up on her knees, pushing his hands away. “Let me,” she said, licking her lips in anticipation.

  Max dropped his hands to his side, let her have her way. She undressed him, small nimble fingers, clearing the shirt from his chest, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them along with his boxers down past his waist. She slipped off the bed to handle his shoes and socks before he could step out of the clothes. When she was back on the bed his hands gripped her shoulders and he bent forward, ravishing her mouth one more time.

  Before she could toss his pants he’d reached into his pocket and retrieved a condom. He was about to push her back on the bed when she snatched the condom away from him, slipping her hands between their bodies to cup his length. “I’ve wanted you since the first night I saw you standing in the kitchen.”

  If he were a lesser man Max would have yelled his release right then and there as she worked the latex onto his length. But he was a Donovan, he was a virile, strong man with a reputation of giving women exactly what they needed in the bedroom. No way was this little tigress going to undo him.

  “And you always get what you want?” he asked.

  “Aiming high usually brings good results,” she whispered against his chest. Her tongue drew a long lazy path over his pectorals.

  Not willing to tempt fate a second longer Max removed her fingers from his erection and lay her back on the bed. “My turn.”

  The nightgown was shamelessly small, a wisp of material that he’d lifted over her head quickly. Her breasts were perfect mounds designed to fit his hand perfecty—as he lifted a palm, put it over the darkened nipple. She arched into his touch and he swore he’d never seen anything as beautifully seductive as this woman. Her springy curls framed her face, eyes half-closed, swollen lips parted so that her tongue could slide out to entice him further. The thong matched her nightie and Max traced a finger over the alluring lace. Her legs parted as she opened for him. His finger slid along the rim of the thong into her slickness of its own accord.

  She was hot, tight and gripping him with intense suction. His erection grew to the point of pain and he gritted his teeth.

  “Now,” she panted.

  “No,” he responded quickly. His finger was driving her harder as he watched her control breaking into tiny pieces.

  She writhed beneath him, her breath coming in quick pants. With his other hand he worked her breast, loving the soft full feel in his hands. He was in control, he was taking her the way he wanted. She wasn’t getting the best of him. No matter how much he wanted to sink his length inside her.

  When she screamed his name and her release poured into his palm Max was totally satisfied and about to explode with pleasure himself.

  “Good girl,” he cooed against her ear before nipping her.

  “Let’s make it better,” she said, shifting so quick Max had to blink the moment he was flipped onto his back.

  How she’d wrapped her legs around him and switched their positions so agilely he’d never know. But she was now on top of him, a victorious and sex-filled look in her eyes. She didn’t waste time removing the thong, but pushed the material aside as she rose over him, gently lowering herself until he was snuggly inside.

  She rode him like a practiced jockey. Only the thought of her doing this to some other man wasn’t on Max’s mind. The expertise with which she worked him, rising then falling at all the right times, had his mind filling with her. When he reached up, grabbed her hips to control the motions, she let her head fall back and called his name again. The way she said it made him feel like a superstar, like a hero in one of her books. It was all about him. And her. Together. At this moment.

  It was surreal and then again it was just perfect.

  She was very good, Max had to give her that. But he wanted to bring this home himself. So they shifted again, until he was sitting and she was straddling him. He pressed deep inside her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. Their lips met as their bodies joined and moved in sync to the timeless dance of lovemaking.

  They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Deena’s heart was beating rapidly, her body trembling with pleasure. It was him. He was it. Never, ever, had she had sex like this. It had to be more than sex, had to linger right around the lovemaking mark. That wasn’t logical. It wasn’t realistic. And yet it just was.

  When he emptied himself into the condom she’d opened her mouth to scream his name but nothing came out. Instead she’d only been able to lower her head, dropping wet kisses along his shoulder.

  It was perfect, just as she’d thought it would be.

  Max sat at the homey kitchen table in the morning sun. It wasn’t quite seven yet and Deena was anything but an early riser. But he enjoyed the morning. It was quieter then and he could get a lot of work done.

  Not that he hadn’t been able to work in the week and a half since he’d met Deena. She was about her business as well, so a couple afternoons they’d actually spent working. Her with her laptop and him with his. They would sit at the pool or on the wide wraparound porch with tall glasses of fresh-squeezed lemonade, courtesy of Dalila, served via Chiniya with her ready smile and bright intelligent eyes.

  Their time seemed to be perfectly split between business and pleasure here at Hilton Head. Max wondered if it was just the Southern air that made him feel right at home. Someone else had other ideas.

  “You know I been here since your granddaddy owned the place. He gave it to his sister when he passed, God rest his soul. Those were the good days.”

  Dalila was a regular fixture of Sandy Pines. So much so that even with the new plans, Max was positive his mother would keep the woman here to run the place. In actuality, he couldn’t think of a better supervisor. Dalila would make sure things were done the right way. She loved this house and the land in a way Max doubted any college-degreed, managerially-trained, suit-and-tie-wearing person could.

  “Did he stay here often? My grandfather?” Max asked.

  Dalila had a way of skipping from one subject to another in the blink of an eye. It had taken Max a couple conversations to catch on to that and to learn to move with the flow.

  “Spent every summer here with his chilren. Your mother was here with her sisters and brothers and they run all over dis island.” Dalila laughed, her broad shoulders shaking with the effort. “Those was good times. Nobody come here no more. Not family, I mean.”

  “My mother’s cousins, they didn’t bring their family here?”

  “Nope. And you boys stop coming too.”

  Max nodded. It had been years since he’d been here. But something told him it wouldn’t take that long for him to return.

  “Well, I’m trying to fix that. When we’re done fixing up this place you’ll have customers every week. This place is going to be wall-to-wall people.”

  “But is it gone be the right people?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I means, everybody that can pay don’t really need to be here. This here place is for families and young peoples in love or startin’ families. Not all that work and stuff you and that little gal keep doing. It’s for relaxin’ and just being.”

  “I’m trying to make this one of the key vacation spots on the island. You disagree with that?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head, her hair pulled back so tight not one piece of it moved with the motion. She came over to the table. She’d been at the sink snapping green beans for the dinner tonight, he supposed. Now she was right in front of him, leaning over the table, her wide hands flat on the surface.

  “You can’t make this place nuthin’. It just is. If you would open your eyes you could see that and a lot more.”

  Before he could think better of it, Max asked, “A lot more like what?”

  “Like that gal that’s got stars in her eyes cuz a you. You don’t even know she in love wit you, do you?”

  “Who? Deena? We’re not in love, we’re just…just—”

  “Hmph, just what? Come see ein like come stay.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I says, come see in, like you foolin’ around wit her ain’t like come stay, as in you marry her right proper.”

  Max sighed, tired of this conversation already.

  “We’re not—”

  “Mishmash,” she said, interrupting him and throwing her hands up in the air. She was back at the sink snapping those beans with a heated urgency that made Max wonder if he’d eat them later. “Don’t know what you feelin’ or how to han’le it. More than what meets the eye, I tell you. More, much more. That gal ain’t gone play with you while you figure it out either.”

  Max figured it was better to just not continue this particular conversation with Dalila. He and Deena were not in love. Yes, they were lovers, but that was just chemistry.

  “Hey, baby,” Deena said, entering the kitchen at the precise moment Dalila had slammed her bowl of beans down and walked out the back door.

  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “So what are we doing today? It’s kind of hot out. I was thinking of maybe taking a swim. Or we could go into town again, do some more shopping?”

  Max was only half listening.

  This whole scene was a little too domestic, too practiced, too permanent.

  Could Deena really be in love with him?

  No. She was not that kind of woman. Well, actually…she hadn’t mentioned any commitments but Max knew that eventually she did want to be married and have kids. She’d told him this on more than one occasion. He’d played it off, of course, because that was an impossibility. But now…now he wondered just what Deena thought they were doing.

  And if their answers were different, what would happen next?

  A few weeks later Max and Deena were still at Sandy Pines, researching and working most of the daylight hours—kissing and lovemaking throughout the night.

  Today was the Fourth of July and a huge celebration was planned throughout the entire island.

  “You two been spending lota time in da bedroom. Go out tonight, sit on da beach. Git some air,” Dalila said in her normal, deadpan tone. But there was a twinkle in her eye tonight; Deena hadn’t missed it.

  She wasn’t missing much these days. Her story was coming along beautifully, with Max unwittingly playing the new hero in her book. Joanna was falling hard for her new man, just as Deena was. She hadn’t spoken to either of her sisters or her parents in the entire time she’d been here. Sure, she’d sent weekly emails to let them know she was still breathing, but she didn’t want to talk to them. Surprisingly, her father had sent her one in response. He wasn’t pleased with how long she’d been away—it was worrying her mother. And he didn’t think using the excuse of working on another sex book was good enough for a grown woman to ignore her family.

  Reading that message had ticked her off. Knowing that she didn’t have to answer it and that right downstairs was a terrific man who actually applauded her entrepreneurial efforts made her smile. Deleting that email only confirmed she’d made the right decision in not calling home. She couldn’t tell her family how much fun she was having for fear their negativity would jinx the entire affair.

  Was this what they were having? An affair?

  In the weeks since they’d first met she and Max had shared a lot about each other, their pasts, their present, their future goals and aspirations. But he hadn’t said anything about what would happen when he returned to Las Vegas. And she hadn’t considered when she would go back to New York.

  She was a writer so she could work anywhere. If he asked her to go back to Las Vegas with him, would she go? Damn right she would. Being with Max felt too right to be wrong.

  With her mind made up to simply enjoy the time they had together, Deena had dressed in a knee-length white sundress and accessorized with red-and-blue earrings, bangles and shoes. She’d happily climbed into the rental car with Max and hummed along cheerfully with the radio as they drove.

  They were headed to the stretch of public beach where just one of many celebratory events was being held tonight. Dalila had packed them a basketful of food, that Max carried while she trotted behind him with blankets.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked when they’d found a spot.

  She didn’t sigh, even though she wanted to. This was the third time he’d asked her this since they’d left the house. “I’m fine, Max. Stop asking me that before I develop a complex.”

  “You just look like you’re someplace else. And I want you to be here,” he said, pulling her down on the blanket he’d laid out.

  She chuckled. “I’m right here,” she said, looping her arms around his neck and snuggling closer to him. “For as long as you want me.”

  She thought she felt him stiffen at that but then the fireworks began and people all around them cheered. Breaking away, she pulled some things out of the basket and they ate and watched the show.

  “I love it here,” she said after a while.

  He nodded. “It’s a nice vacation spot.”

  “Yeah, but it’s more. Don’t you feel it?”

  Again, he hesitated.

  “Sandy Pines will get a lot of tourists searching for this type of getaway.”

  “Sure they will,” she responded. For all that Max had been asking if she were okay, Deena wondered if he wasn’t the one preoccupied.

  “When does your next book release?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

  “February.”

  “Just in time for Valentine’s. Good marketing.”

  “February is the month for love.”

  “Is that what you’re looking for? Love?” he asked quietly.

  For the first time in her life Deena actually paused, considering what she would say. “Aren’t we all?”

  He shrugged.

  “Look,” she said, pointing upward toward a huge burst of fireworks. “It’s pretty.”

  “Yes, you are,” Max said.

  Deena turned to find him not looking up at the sky but at her. She blushed and tried to look away but he reached up and touched her chin, keeping her facing him.

  “I’m glad we met,” he said seriously. “I’m really enjoying our time together.”

  “Me too,” she said with a sigh.

  Pulling her down until she was half on top of him, Max kissed her. The soft simple gesture quickly turned heated, urgent and she found herself ultimately splayed across him, returning his kiss with equal fervor.

  “Not on the beach,” he groaned when her hands had moved beneath his shirt to caress his chest.

  They’d found a more secluded part of the beach and since there was more than one celebration going on throughout the island, their little beach wasn’t that crowded.

  “Scared?” she teased.

  “No, but I’m not into sharing,” he said, nipping her bottom lip. “Let’s go.”

  They packed in record time and headed for the car. When Deena moved to the front passenger side door Max grabbed her by the arm.

  “Back here,” he whispered against her ear.

  Max got in the backseat first, pulling her onto his lap before closing the door.

  “In the car?” she asked as she straddled him in the backseat.

  With both hands Max cupped her face, pulled her closer. “Scared?”

  Slipping her hands between them, she undid the snap of his shorts, pulled the zipper down to release his heated arousal. “Not at all.”

  They were parked near the thick crop of trees just before the shoreline. It was beyond dark down this end of the lot and most people had walked to the beach anyway.

  “I don’t normally do this,” he said, reaching up her dress to cup her bottom.

  “Neither do I,” she said, shifting quickly so that his length was instantly aligned with her arousal. He’d pushed the rim of her thong aside so that all he had to do was thrust forward. All she had to do was slide down.

  They both moaned.

  “There’s a first for everything,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck as he thrust inside her again.

  “Definitely,” she replied, letting her head loll back.

  He held her hips, pulling her up and down on his rigid arousal. She groaned against the pleasurable sensation, desperately needing the release he seemed to be working toward.

  “Deena,” he whispered her name.

  “Yes, baby,” she answered.

  “You’re the best, this summer has…been the best.”

  He’d picked up his pace so his words seemed choppy, but she’d heard them just the same. Her heart soared even as pleasure rippled through her body. She wanted to respond but could only manage a few words. “Best. Yes, the best.”

  Through the material of her dress he opened his mouth over her nipple, suckling as he continued to pump feverishly inside her. Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to keep up, tried to focus on the sensations, on what he was saying, what she was feeling. It was all too much, everything seeming to overflow inside her at once.

  She screamed his name then clamped her mouth shut, hoping nobody heard her. Max groaned, gripped her bottom tightly and she knew his release had come as well.

  It was a few more minutes before they both caught their breaths, then shuffled around the backseat trying to fix their clothes.