Saved by the Bride

chapter Nine

According to John Ackerman, who Finn had spoken to when he’d done the marketing, Finn had missed Annika by five minutes.

“She bought some crackers and tuna fish and said she was going to the post office.”

Karen at the post office told him, “She used the yellow pages and asked me to hold her mail. I don’t know where she went after that.”

Nicole was back in her salon cutting hair and had given him a warm smile when he’d asked her about Annika. “She’s got a list a mile long so she could be anywhere in town. The meeting went fantastic, and Annika says we need a website so she’s looking into that. Thank you so much for the computers and the wireless modem.”

“You’re welcome.” And he meant it. The few times he’d met Nicole, he’d sensed a pervading sadness but it seemed to be tempered some when she spoke about weddings. If a few computers helped her, then he was more than happy to assist. He wondered at the fact Annika was taking on a website when she’d insisted Whitetail needed more than weddings, but then again, she rarely said no to anything. For some reason that bothered him far more than it should.

After making an appointment to get his hair trimmed, he crossed the street to the drugstore. “Have you seen Annika Jacobson, my P.A.?”

Randy Nuertsin, the pharmacist, said she hadn’t been in. That slugged Finn with a burst of surprise. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she’d been in as much agony as him last night when they’d stopped on the cusp of sex, so he’d been absolutely certain she’d have done the responsible adult thing and gotten prepared. Apparently not. So he did it for her along with a huge array of toiletries—most of which he didn’t need—in an attempt to camouflage the point of the purchase.

The young sales associate flicked her gum as she scanned the condoms. “Those ones are good. I like the cherry flavor.”

Finn tried not to choke as he handed over a fifty, grabbed the bag and made a hasty exit. No one ever commented when he bought condoms in Chicago, not that he’d bought many recently but still, the last thing he needed was the town talking about what he and Annika were or weren’t doing. That was something he planned to keep strictly between the two of them.

He scanned the street looking for the distinctive red truck but couldn’t see it or Annika anywhere. How hard could it be to find someone in a town that pretty much had all its businesses on the Main Street? He raised his sunglasses and noticed Rory ticketing a motor home with out-of-state plates that had been parked across the policeman’s driveway, blocking him in.

“Hey, Finn. Good to see you. I was pleased to hear you gave Anni a job. She needs it more than she’ll ever admit.”

Finn shook the police officer’s hand, getting a strong parental vibe. “Are you related to Annika?”

He shook his head. “No, but her father and I are good friends. Ever since she moved back to town, she’s been busy looking out for everyone.”

“And as her father isn’t here, you’re looking out for her.”

“Got it in one.”

Finn leaned against the side of the motor home and tried to sound casual. “Any reason she didn’t move with her family?”

Rory ripped the ticket off the pad. “She left first when she went to college and her folks moved after that. No one ever expected Anni would choose to live in Whitetail again after living in Chicago for eight years and making a name for herself there, but here she is.” Rory stuck the ticket under the wiper with a practiced flick before giving Finn a look that said, “I’ve talked enough.”

It effectively cut off the question, “Why did she move back?” A question that teetered on Finn’s lips. Making a name for herself? He mentally added “Type Annika Jacobsen into a search engine” to his to-do list.

“If you’re looking for Annika, she left ten minutes ago and said she was heading back to Kylemore. You have a good day, Finn, and remember the speed limit on the lake.” Rory moved off down the street as he spoke into his radio making a request for the motor home to be towed.

Damn it. He’d talked to half the town and missed the one person he’d come to see. He checked his watch. Even keeping well within the waterway’s speed limit, he was certain he’d make it back to Kylemore before Annika. He planned to be waiting in the circular driveway when she pulled in and then they were going straight to the cabin.

His phone beeped and Bridey’s name came up on a message. Mom wants some Swedish pastries. Buy, deliver and stay for coffee.

His plans took a hit as he realized it was midafternoon already, and he was on mother duty.

* * *

When Annika arrived back at the office, relief flowed through her that Finn was nowhere to be seen. “Put off today what you don’t want to do tomorrow” hadn’t always been her mantra but in many ways it had become one when she’d moved back to Whitetail. She dropped her purse onto the desk and grabbed a can of soda from the bar fridge, realizing she wasn’t only thirsty but hungry and she’d left the crackers and tin of tuna fish in the truck. She’d been so busy in town she’d missed lunch and, having stayed away longer than she’d anticipated and not able to text Finn, she’d rushed straight back. She really needed to pay her cell phone bill but the bulk of her first paycheck was earmarked for back rent to Ellery and the rest she’d just spent on bedding. The phone would have to wait.

As she put the soda can down on a coaster, she couldn’t miss seeing the bright pink sticky note that was stuck smack-bang in the center of her computer screen. Finn’s bold, black and unwavering script scrawled across the fluorescent square of paper with the words Am at guest cottage. Come immediately. Bring file.

File? She had no clue what he meant. So far in her job for Finn she’d done some word processing, pumped numbers into a spreadsheet, filed, set up meetings and booked conference calls. The rest of the time had been spent making calls and writing letters to other companies about the warehouses. Did Finn mean that? Or was it something to do with his mother? She checked the documents on the computer and rifled through the filing cabinet, but nothing was marked Kathleen Callahan so she picked up the only two file jackets in her inbox and headed back down the stairs.

Turning at the bottom, she walked toward the side door, which was her entrance and exit so she avoided the main part of the house and the family. As she opened the mudroom door, she stopped so abruptly that she banged her shoulder on the door. “Oh, I’m sorry, Dana. I didn’t know you were here.”

On the few occasions she’d met the current Mrs. Callahan, Dana had always looked as if she’d stepped straight out of the pages of a glossy lifestyle magazine, complete with an air of aloofness that the very rich often wore. Now she stood in rubber boots with a sunhat on her head and a pair of gardening gloves in her hand.

She smiled at Annika. “Logan and Sean are fishing and as the idea of touching bait makes me squeamish, I’ve been in the garden instead. I’m encouraging my asters by fertilizing and talking to them so they’ll put on an amazing late-summer show.”

Annika rubbed her bruised shoulder. “Is that enough?”

“I threw in some guilt for good measure by mentioning how stunning the day lilies currently are with their myriad of colors.” She hung up her hat and smoothed down her hair. “Are you interested in gardening?”

“Oh, I love gardens but I’m not a gardener. I’m more of a potentilla girl. They’re so hardy they flower almost no matter how much you ignore them.”

Dana laughed and for the first time Annika saw the warm and friendly woman she’d previously missed. Sean’s wife nodded at the files in Annika’s hand. “Finn’s visiting his mother. Are you heading over to the cottage?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Would you mind taking over this fruit basket and these towels? Esther’s tied up preparing dinner and I’d deliver them except Kathleen’s likely to throw everything back at me and I don’t think we should waste perfectly good fruit.” This time her smile was wry.

“Sure, I’d be happy to take it.”

“You’re probably wondering what you’ve walked into with this family.”

“Not at all, I—”

“Just don’t judge us too harshly.” Dana’s usually soft voice sounded strained. “I had stars in my eyes when I married Sean, thinking we’d be one big happy family and a baby would be the glue to bring us closer. But Finn was twenty-one and Bridey was seventeen, and it took me four years to conceive. My biggest regret is for Logan.”

She pushed the basket abruptly into Annika’s hand and the detached air zoomed back in, as if she regretted her disclosure. “Thank you for doing this and enjoy the rest of your day.” She brushed past Annika and walked into the house, closing the door behind her with a firm click that said, “Don’t follow me.”

Not that Annika planned on following but that didn’t stop a ripple of sadness running through her that Dana had shut her out. My biggest regret is for Logan. She got exactly what Dana meant—in fact it was exactly what she’d been talking to Finn about yesterday. As she made her way across the lawn—balancing the towels, fruit basket and the files—she decided that getting Finn more involved with his younger brother and family was something she could do to help. After all, helping out was what she did best.

* * *

It wasn’t that Finn didn’t love his mother; he did, very much. From the moment his father had left her, he’d stepped up as protector and now as an adult, he enjoyed her company. He regularly met her for afternoon tea at Palmer House, and occasionally accompanied her to exhibition openings, but Kathleen in pain and back at Kylemore was acerbic and out of sorts.

The coffee he’d made was too hot and too bitter, the pastries he’d bought not the ones she’d wanted, and his attempt at arranging her flowers under her precise instructions—“I said move the delphinium to the back, that’s a stock”—had him biting his tongue. It had been a very long and patience-testing forty minutes. Where the hell was Annika?

He heard a thump against the glass, followed by an “oof” and his mother said, “Good heavens, it’s a walking fruit basket. Finn, go and help.”

Pleased to be able to walk away from the floral arrangement he’d seriously mangled, he stood up. Although he could only see a pair of legs because the rest of the owner was hidden by a massive fruit basket and a tower of toppling towels, he instantly knew it was Annika. He gave a silent chuckle. She was deliciously clumsy and he was thrilled to see her. He’d been waiting a long time for her to arrive—not just to give him a valid excuse to end his visit before he said something to his mother he’d regret, but so they could take up where they’d left off last night. Only this time it wouldn’t be on a rocky beach, and it wouldn’t be stopped so abruptly that his balls would ache for hours. No, this time they’d be in his bed with enough contraception to safely keep them there until they chose to leave.

He caught the towels as they started to tumble off their precarious position on the basket and whispered softly in her ear, “Hey, Legs. What took you so long?”

Her body trembled but she didn’t reply. Instead she peered around the other side of the huge basket before turning sharply, which sent a melon rolling across the floor before she reached the safety of the table. “Shall I put it here, Mrs. Callahan?”

“Yes, thank you. Can you pass me the card?” Kathleen looked animated for the first time since he’d arrived.

Finn watched mesmerized as Annika’s fingers carefully eased the card off the cellophane by peeling back the tape, and the memory of those fingers touching him last night was so strong he could feel them kneading his back. He wanted them touching him again. Now.

“Mom, this is Annika Jacobson, my P.A.” He wafted his arm out in a gesture of introduction but his eyes stayed fixed on Annika. “Did you bring those files I requested?”

Annika pushed the files across the table before handing Kathleen the card. “How’s your ankle feeling, Mrs. Callahan?”

Kathleen glanced quickly at the card and smiled before tucking it under her thigh. “It aches a lot. Please, call me Kathleen.”

Annika nodded with sympathy clear on her face. “Ice packs for twenty-four hours and then applying heat really helps. So does keeping it up as much as possible.”

“You sound just like my doctor.”

“I’ve had a bit of experience with ankles, wrists, knees.” Her hands fluttered out in front of her. “Basically, I’ve pretty much sprained every part of me.”

Interest flared on his mother’s face. “Do you do stunt work?”

Annika burst into laughter and Finn cut across the conversation, seizing the moment. “Sorry, Mom, but we have to go as I’ve got a conference call booked for Mexico.” He picked up the folders he knew contained Annika’s “Find a business for Whitetail” documents.

“Thanks for coming, darling.” Kathleen gave him a wave and immediately swung her gaze back to Annika. “Can you stay, Annika?”

No. No way was this happening.

But Annika had sat down without giving Finn a glance. “Oh, Kathleen, are those pastries from Lundstrom’s?” She immediately countered with, “I’m sorry, that was rude. It’s just I missed lunch.”

“Annika, we have to leave, now.” His words sounded unreasonably curt, courtesy of a hell of a lot of frustration. He was the one that was supposed to be getting all cozy and chatty with Annika. Not that he planned to do much talking or at least not the type of conversation his mother was about to have.

Kathleen frowned. “You said you had a conference call so you go do that and leave Annika here.”

“She hasn’t eaten and there’s food in the office.”

“Finn, I have a kitchen full of food here.”

He knew he was clutching at straws. “I need her to type up the notes on the call.”

A pair of cornflower-blue eyes with amusement dancing in their depths, hit him with a look that said, “I know your play and I’ve got one to match it.” “Record the call and I’ll transcribe it in full tonight. It will be more accurate that way, especially as I’m a bit light-headed from lack of food. I’d hate to miss something important.”

Kathleen passed the platter of pastries. “Good idea. It’s all settled then.”

“Finn, I booked the call for the office phone, and it’s almost four.” Annika raised a cup of coffee in a salute to the fictitious conference call.

Finn swallowed a string of oaths, not quite able to believe he’d let himself be out-maneuvered. He took in a deep breath and regrouped. Giving Annika a lazy smile—the one he knew made her back into doorways and bump into kitchen counters—he said, “I don’t know what I’d do without your efficiency, Legs.”

Her pupils widened at the use of her nickname.

If Annika wanted to play games then it was officially “game on.” Only next time he’d reach the end zone.

* * *

Annika blew into the air mattress for the umpteenth time and silver spots sparkled in her vision, making her feel extremely dizzy. Jamming the plug into the half-inflated bed, she lamented that she hadn’t spent the extra money on a pump.

After a very pleasant hour with Finn’s mom, who was a fascinating woman with eclectic tastes and interests, and hearing all about her current passion, which was supporting a community outreach program of the Art Institute, Annika had used the kayak to get herself over to the island. The Callahans had every conceivable water toy from human-powered row boats and stand-up paddleboards, to fuel powered Jet Skis and motorboats. Without a moment’s hesitation, she’d taken advantage of their wide collection of vessels to stay one step ahead of Finn. She didn’t feel one shred of guilt at not having gone back to the office after her visit with Kathleen because she knew there was no post-conference call transcript to be typed. It had all been a ruse to get her naked.

A shiver of desire she couldn’t quite squash added to her light-headedness and she sucked in another breath, firming up her crumbling resolve. The reason she’d come direct to the island was so she could have her camp bed all set up before Finn got back to the cabin. It would make the statement of “this is how things need to play out,” and back up her words that sex was a bad idea.

Heavy footsteps suddenly pounded up the wooden veranda stairs in a very un-ninja fashion, and the screen door slammed loudly. Still clutching the half-inflated mattress, she scrambled to her feet. Finn stopped just inside the door, his curls in delicious disarray, having been blown by the wind into a sexy, rumpled look. He leaned casually against the doorjamb, crossing his arms over his chest, which sent his biceps bulging against the soft material of his shirtsleeves.

She immediately imagined him shirtless and dropped the edge of the air mattress. “You’re back early.”

Dimples swirled deep into his cheeks and he gave her a long, seductive smile that reached all the way to his eyes. Eyes which roamed lazily over her, taking their own sweet gazing time, and sparking off a thrill of tingles from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

“Early for what?” He pushed off the doorjamb with confident ease and walked toward her. She could almost smell his intent and a quiver of lust coiled deep. She didn’t fear him one little bit but so help her, she feared herself.

He cocked one brow. “Did you have plans that included me?”

Somehow she managed to stop a breathy “yes” rolling off her lips by shaking her head and jerkily flipping out the sleeping bag. “No. I was just getting organized here.”

His jet-black gaze took in the camp bed and he poked the mattress derisively with his foot. “So I see, but you’re not going to be very comfortable with it like this.” He scooped up the mattress, sucked in a deep breath and started to puff air into it.

She stared and blinked as surprise thundered through her.

She’d been expecting an Irish bellow, similar to the one he’d leveled at her when she’d told him she was planning on sleeping at the warehouse. The sex fiend deep within her pouted that he hadn’t scooped her over his shoulder and deposited her on his bed, but the sensible part of her was thankful he was respecting her wishes. Needing to do something so she wasn’t tempted to watch him at work, she zippered together her sleeping bag.

Finn plugged the mattress and put it back on the floor. “Man, that’s hot work.” He whipped off his polo shirt, dropped it onto a chair and then lay down on her mattress. “This feels about right.” He patted the space next to him and grinned up at her. “But as you’re the one sleeping here, you should check it out for yourself.”

Her gaze immediately shot down to his bare chest and lingered on the smattering of hair at the base of his toned abdominal muscles. Black hair that trailed tantalizingly downward before disappearing under the band of his shorts. Lying down next to him was a shortcut to insanity and she wasn’t playing that game. She tilted her head and put her finger against her chin, as if deep in thought.

“The thing is, you’re heavier than me so you’re dispersing more air. To know if it’s inflated enough for me, I really need to test it out by myself.”

He raised his arms behind his head and matched her thoughtful gaze with one of his own. “Well at least I know it works for me.”

“You won’t be using it.”

“So if I offered you use of the bed in exchange for me sleeping on this air mattress you’d refuse?”

She remembered how comfortable his cushion-top mattress was, and the luxurious feel of his high thread count cotton sheets.

Don’t forget how amazing it felt to be cuddling him.

I am so forgetting that!

“It would depend on the deal.”

He rolled off the mattress, rose to his feet and stood so close she could smell the peppermint scent of his hair. He stared down at her. “No deal, just a direct exchange.”

She couldn’t read him, which worried her because it meant she couldn’t work out his game. “That would be the exclusive use of the bed. If your air mattress springs a leak, you’re still on the floor.”

“Absolutely. You’re the guest and you get the bed.”

Generosity infused his words, making her feel small that she’d doubted his motives.

He spun away from her saying, “Change the sheets while I have a shower,” and then he disappeared into the bathroom.

The bathroom was located directly off the bedroom, and there was no way she was spending any time in there while he was naked in the bathroom with only a thin wall between them. Even out here in the main living area she could hear the water from the shower and her sex-starved self immediately went into visual overload, streaming images of tall, dark, toned and indecently gorgeous men.

She turned the radio on loudly, not caring what was on as long as it drowned out the sounds of the shower. Let’s talk about sex, baby, screeched through the static. With a lunge of sheer frustration she pulled the plug and started singing, “la, la, la” to herself.

She’d make supper. The idea burst into her frazzled and melting mind and she leaped on it.

Marching to the fridge, she opened it to see if Finn had kept his promise to shop. He had and it was groaning with food. She diced and chopped, happy to have a task, and arranged a garden salad and marinated chicken in soy sauce and honey in preparation for the grill. As she worked she sang through her limited repertoire of show tunes and Sunday-school hymns.

She heard the creak of a door opening and Finn walked out with wet hair—his curls momentarily flat but shedding water fast, which dripped down across his shoulders. He held an armful of dirty laundry. It took Annika a second to realize that the only item of material on his body between his head and his feet was a bath sheet tied low around his hips. The knife she held clattered loudly onto the counter.

He glanced in her direction, his expression obliging. “I’m putting a load on. Do you have anything?”

She picked up the knife again and kept her gaze on the onions, hoping she didn’t dice off a finger. “No, thanks.”

“Okay.” He ambled off to the laundry and returned a few minutes later with empty arms.

Even though she’d known he’d probably still be shirtless and had prepared herself, she somehow managed to knock over the bottle of soy sauce, sending the contents spilling across the counter. Furious with herself, and cross with him, she fixed him with a glare. “Don’t you feel debased by resorting to peacocking?”

He grinned. “Not at all. Especially when I know it gives you so much pleasure.”

She picked up a cloth and started to mop up the mess. “I’ve hardly noticed.”

His laugh was like the deep, rich notes of the bassoon and stroked her like velvet. “Sweetheart, you’ve noticed. One dropped air mattress, one dropped knife and now there’s a river of soy sauce heading toward the floor. And let’s not forget this morning when you fell out of bed and walked into the doorway. There’s so much sexual tension sizzling between us, you’ve become an occupational health and safety hazard to yourself.”

And damn it, it was all true. She dropped the cloth in the sink and marched over to the chair where his discarded shirt lay. Her fingers wound it into a ball and she threw it at him. “If you’re so worried about me hurting myself then put on some damn clothes.”

He flicked the shirt out so it wrapped around her waist and then pulled her gently toward him. “And where would be the fun in that?”

He smelled of soap, shampoo and the promise of wonder.

“This isn’t fun for me, Finn. This is torture.”

He dropped his head so his lips were next to her ear, and his breath and his words stroked her. “But it’s torture of the best kind, right?”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “No.” She put her hands on his forearms and leaned back. “Last night, I made a big mistake, Finn. I wanted to kiss you but it got out of control way too fast and I’m telling you, it’s not going any further. I refuse to become the cliché of the P.A. who sleeps with her boss. Her very rich boss.”

Intelligent eyes studied her. “So this buyer’s remorse of yours is to do with ethics?”

“Yes.”

“Then quit.”

Oh that she could. “You know I need the money.”

“Fair point.” His fingers played with her hair. “Have you ever slept with your boss before?”

“No.” The word shot out on stream of indignation with a lust chaser.

His gaze burned into her. “Would it help if I told you I’ve never slept with any of my P.A.s, or any other members of my staff for similar ethical reasons?”

“Little bit.” The words came out on a breath as his fingers caressed her cheeks. Her knees sagged.

“So really, both of us are in a difficult situation.”

“Difficult.” Her lips could hardly frame words.

His fingers dipped into the hollow of her throat, fondling her skin in ever-decreasing circles. “What if AKP was to subcontract directly to Annika’s Custom Calligraphy with the express purpose of managing the warehouses and to provide a P.A. to the Kylemore office for the summer?”

Miraculously, there was still one tiny part of her brain that was free of desire-fuelled haze, and she could see exactly where he was going with this. She’d be her own boss. “My fee’s pretty steep.”

“I pay industry rates.” He matter-of-factly named a figure.

She was glad she was gripping his arms or she would have fallen at his feet. She tried to look businesslike and composed when she was feeling the exact opposite. “Is that number the truth, Finn, or are you just trying to get me into bed?”

His mouth flattened and a serious look entered his eyes. “By now you should know that the truth is very important to me, and I never joke about business.”

She recalled their first misguided twenty-four hours and how he’d conducted himself ever since. She should have realized the figure was accurate. “You’re right. I do know that about you.”

His serious expression lingered. “This agreement’s just for the summer, Annika. Come Labor Day, Sean’s back in command and I’m back in Chicago or Mexico.”

Just for the summer. The words were clear, concise and completely ambiguity-free. A definite end date—that worked for her. This thing between them was all about a summer of sex and given recent events in her life, she deserved some no-strings fun. “Annika’s Custom Calligraphy accepts.”

“Good.” His normally smooth voice was suddenly raspy. “Can we shake on it now and draw up the paperwork tomorrow?”

As much as it would be fun to watch Finn’s expression if she said “no,” saying that would only mean she’d suffer too and her body was already aching so hard for him that it hurt. A random thought exploded in her mind and she bit her knuckle. She’d been so determined not to have sex with him that she hadn’t gone to the drug store. “Do you have condoms?”

“Unlike some people, I’m organized and prepared. The perfect Boy Scout.”

“Thank God.” As she shook his hand in her right, she whipped off his towel with her left. Her mouth fell open with a gasp. “You—you’ve had shorts on under there the whole time?”

He grinned at her with dancing eyes. “I was having some fun with you, but I’m not a sleazebag.”

Her own embarrassment collided with an edge of disappointment that he wasn’t standing in front of her naked, and she mustered up some playful indignation. “I could have severed an artery when I dropped that knife.”

“But you didn’t.” His fingers played with her hair. “Besides, is it my fault that your imagination had me naked under the towel? You should be thanking me for a virtual picture show.”

He reached to pull her closer, but she ducked away and rounded the couch. If he thought she was that easy—and heaven help her, she was—she’d make him work a bit harder to get what they ultimately both wanted. “I think this is a case of false advertising.”

One black brow shot up. “Is that so?”

He’d tortured her so now it was her turn. She pressed her palms against the back of the couch and leaned forward, knowing the position gave her meager breasts some cleavage and that her scoop-necked T-shirt fell slightly forward. “Sure. It’s a blatant misrepresentation of what was really on offer to trick me into making a purchase that I otherwise might have avoided.”

His dark eyes swept her breasts and her body fired with heat as he met her gaze. It burned with a need that matched hers and somehow she managed to add, “I’ll need to alert the FTC.”

“I see.” With every part of his height and breadth targeted on her he rounded the couch and moved tantalizingly slowly toward her. “On what grounds?”

He stood so close she could smell his desire for her and her brain almost emptied. “Truth in labeling or manipulation of packaging by using, um,” she stammered as she visualized his boxers underneath the shorts, and then vividly pictured what lay under that soft cotton, “too many layers or fillers.”

He tilted his head and a curl dipped over his eyebrow giving him the delectably wicked look of a pirate. “Oh, baby, there’s nothing false or misleading about this and there are definitely no fillers.” His fingers gripped the fastener at the top of the zipper on his shorts and his voice dropped even deeper. “What you see is what you get. All of it. Just for you.”

A blast of need hit her so hard she swayed and anticipation had her so wired she could hardly see straight. Liquid heat followed, pouring through her and making her panties wet. “So what are you saying? That if I unwrap the packaging this time I won’t be misled?”

She reached out and slid her fingers under his, undoing the fastener. Then her hand slowly slid down the front of his pants and she shivered as she felt his erection under the material.

He groaned and his eyes glazed over. “If you’re unwrapping me, you need to do it fast.”

She laughed. “But I always unwrap my presents carefully by peeling back the tape and not ripping the paper.”

His hands caught hers and he pressed them against the band of his shorts. “If you unwrap this too slowly, you might find your present won’t work for a while.”

“I can’t have that.” She shucked his shorts with a quick tug, expecting to see boxer shorts. But he stood before her with the late-afternoon sunshine streaming all over him—tall, tanned and blissfully naked. This time she gasped with wonder and her hand longed to wrap itself around his long, silky length. She couldn’t hide the admiration from her voice. “You’re beautiful.”

He gazed down at her. “So are you.”

The soft words made her heart jolt and she instantly went on alert reminding herself that this was just sex. His words were just part of foreplay. She stepped into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head back.

His mouth melded to hers and his heat flooded her like the blast from an open furnace—swooping through her like a hot wind on an August day. It instantly fanned all the tiny embers of desire that had been burning deep inside her for days into a raging and out-of-control wildfire. She plundered his mouth with hers, filling herself with his taste of coffee, mint and sex. As she lost herself in his mouth she pressed her hands to his naked skin, touching him and soaking him up like parched land absorbs rain when the drought breaks.

He pulled her down onto the air mattress and straddled her, gently pinning her underneath him. “Now it’s my turn to unwrap you.”

“Yes, please.” She raised her arms and he pulled her T-shirt over her head. A sliver of reality pierced her lust, making her instantly self-conscious about her old, plain bra that was a very faded orange, and had been washed so many times it was ready to fall apart. Embarrassed, she crossed her arms. “I don’t have any sexy underwear.”

He smiled and slid the straps down her arm. “I’m a lot more interested in the contents than the packaging.” Three seconds later, and without a moment of fumbling, the embarrassing article was on the floor lying on top of his shorts.

Thirty seconds after that, her skirt and panties joined them.

She rolled her head back to look at him. “Impressive.”

He grinned and his dark eyes flashed with desire. “I aim to please.”

And he did. He lowered his head and nibbled her ear and then his mouth roved along her jaw nipping and kissing in a seductive march of branding. She moaned as his mouth closed over her breast and his tongue gently and deliciously lashed her nipple. Pure pleasure streaked through her and her hand gripped his head hard as her body seemed to rise off the bed.

His mouth broke contact.

She cried out as loss rammed her. “Don’t stop.”

His mouth twitched. “Sweetheart, I’ll keep going when your hands stop clamping my head like a vise.”

“Sorry.” She dropped her hands. “It’s just so good.”

He dipped his head again and his mouth suckled her other breast. A moment later she bucked toward him and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

His hands caught hers and he laid them tenderly above her head, keeping one of his hands gently over them. Her breasts rose as her shoulders pressed against the mattress. Part of her felt totally exposed but most of her felt unbelievably desirable. She’d never experienced anything like it.

He kissed her on the nose. “Your hands need to stay here so they don’t keep getting in the way and nothing short of fire or flood can move them.”

“But I want to touch you.”

“And you will, I promise. But right now this is going to work better for you.”

She didn’t understand. “Why? I mean it—”

“Shh.” He put his finger to her lips. “Just trust me on this.”

And despite only knowing him a few days she knew she could accommodate his request. “I do trust you.”

“Excellent. Now where was I?”

His curls brushed her face as he trailed kisses across her chest and then his tongue wove a slow, meandering path between her breasts and down her belly. Unlike the glorious but almost excruciating pleasure of his mouth sucking her nipples, this had her moaning out a long sigh. Although at first she wanted to touch him and give back to him, she slowly relaxed and totally submitted to his touch—losing herself in every luscious sensation.

His mouth moved past her belly button, moving lower and lower and her body floated on a river of heady arousal. She was vaguely aware of his fingers tightening slightly around her wrist and then his tongue caressed her most sensitive place between her legs.

She whimpered with building need, her hips left the bed and her arms tensed, wanting to wrap themselves around him and hold on tight. Deep inside her muscles throbbed, desperate to have him fill them. She lifted her wrists and his hand fell away but before she could touch him, his mouth and tongue did things to her that she never wanted to stop. Heat spiraled, need burned, sheer and intense pleasure built—spinning faster and faster until she thrashed under his touch, wanting more, needing more, and she greedily took everything he offered. Wave after wave of wonder took her higher and higher until she thought she’d die from exquisite pain. As she tumbled over the edge, she heard a faint scream in the distance and realized it was her, but she was already floating high above herself on a cloud of utter bliss.

As the sensations rolled away, she slowly came back to earth and to Finn. She pressed her hand to his cheek. “That was simply amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Only...”

“Only what?” A ghost of anxiety crossed his eyes.

“No, not that.” She kissed him hard and fast. “You’re unbelievably generous, not to mention talented.”

His chest expanded. “Talented. eh?”

She laughed. “Oh, I can see using that word was a mistake.” Her fingers skimmed down his chest. “It’s just I don’t get how that was good for you.”

A slight crease marred his high forehead. “Watching you orgasm is an incredible turn-on.”

His words stunned her. “Really?”

“Believe me, it is.”

He rolled her over and sat her on top of him. She could feel him hard and strong between her legs and she burned to feel him inside her.

He ran his hands through her hair, trailing his fingers through its length that fell to brush her breasts. “You’re my Lady Godiva.”

She’d never felt so powerful in her femininity as she did at that moment. She used her hands and explored every inch of his broad, toned chest that had been calling to her from the moment he’d taken off his shirt, and she pressed her lips to salty skin. As she skimmed her hands downward, she felt his tension spearing through her palms.

She gave him an arch look. “Is this bothering you?”

“No.” But his hand shot out for his shorts.

She plucked them out of his hand and found the condoms in the pocket. As his hands cupped her breasts and his fingers did delicious things to her nipples, she somehow managed to open the square foil. She rolled the condom onto him, loving the feel of him under her hands and she wanted to stroke him again and again.

“Annika.” Her name came out on a guttural moan and she saw his restraint crumbling. “You’re killing me.”

“We can’t have that.” She rose on her knees and then slowly lowered herself down on him, feeling herself opening for him and wanting to give to him what he’d just given to her. Wanting to send him spinning out on a stream of mind-altering delight.

He rose up to meet her—filling her—and her body gripped him. She kept her gaze on his face, hypnotized by the line of his jaw, the sheen of sweat on his top lip and the lust burning brightly in his eyes. Her body started moving with his and suddenly she wasn’t an onlooker anymore. Her body caught his rhythm, and she was one with him, riding fast toward the stars.

She shattered a moment before he did, but this time her orgasm scooped him up and took him with her. Together, they were flung out into space, circling each other until they fell back to earth on separate paths and rolled away from each other.

As they both lay panting, Finn rose up on an elbow and brushed her hair from her cheek. He stared down at her with deep dimples carved into his cheeks and a quiet smile on his lips. “No tripping, dropping or stumbling. I think we’ve just found the one sport you’re incredibly good at.”

She rolled into his arms laughing. “I was pretty hot, wasn’t I?”

“Totally hot.”

She traced her finger along his sternum. “And you’re very talented.”

He grinned. “We’re the perfect summer combination.”

She rested her head on his chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of each breath. All she knew was that she’d never had sex like it. Not that she’d had many partners and she didn’t really count her first time in a college dorm with a boy who’d known even less than she did. Based on that experience she’d always thought sex with Ryan had been adequate and he’d certainly never complained although her needs had often been left behind. She now realized she’d been shortchanged by him more than just emotionally and financially.

Finn shifted slightly and immediately groaned as his elbow hit the floor. “Next time we’re doing this in my bed.”

She refused to feel embarrassed about the rush of tingles that shot through her at the thought of a next time. She did a quick calculation of the number of days between now and Labor Day and smiled.