Chapter Five

Sam’s mind went blank as all the blood in his body traveled swiftly south. The phone in his hand creaked in protest, and he forcibly relaxed his fingers, reminding himself to breathe. But shit, it wasn’t easy when the goddess standing before him robbed it from him. To say she’d grown up when he wasn’t looking was an understatement.

“Are you ready?”

His body roared at the innocent question delivered in her husky tone.

Hell yeah, I’m ready. Let’s get that private room—now.

With a grimace, he mentally kicked the door in the face of his closet caveman and scooped the bag from the ground into his lap, manfully trying to keep his eyes off her fine form. “Just give me a minute. I need to find my phone cover.” Her brow lifted at his gruff tone, a smirk on her lips. He wasn’t fooling her, but he daren’t give up the illusion. They weren’t the only visitors.

Having already unearthed the cover, he bought himself a little more time by rummaging around the bag. And then his fingertips encountered the unmistakable feel of lace and silk. His heart stopped. The material was still warm. With a gulp, he snatched his hand back and dropped the phone into the mess of clothing and shoved the bag underneath the seating. “Ready.” In a move he hoped looked casual, he snagged the towel from his neck and held it in his hands as he stepped toward the pool.

“Seriously, Sam?”

He glanced at her and frowned. “What?”

Amusement with a hint of naughty lit up her features, and something in his chest gave a sharp tug. There she was. The elusive girl from his memory. Combined with the new confidence he saw shining from her gaze, she was entrancing. Effortlessly sexy, she stood with one hip cocked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Suffering the momentary discomfit was worth it when it meant seeing her like this again.

She gestured down at his hands. “The towel is for after your swim, not during.” Her head tilted to the side, and her mouth twitched as she glanced briefly at his groin area and raised her brows. “Unless there’s a problem?”

He bared his teeth in the parody of a smile. “Nope. No problems here.” Balling up the material, he threw it behind them and launched into the hot water. Lucy followed more sedately, lowering herself into the water inch by inch, the sighs and moans she made making him mighty glad his body was already submerged. Averting his gaze, he closed his eyes, ordering his mind to conjure up images of garden designs, big machinery, and piles of dirt.

“Oh, God, Sam. This is wonderful.”

Giving up the distraction as a lost cause, he lifted his head and glanced over at the woman who consumed his thoughts. Steam drifted up from the thermal water and draped between them in clouds of mist, outlining her body as she floated on the water. Supported by a padded headrest, she’d let her body go lax, her eyes closed in bliss. The natural upward curve of her lips made her look as if she were smiling, her cheeks flushed with pink.

“It is,” he agreed and tore his gaze away from her sensual figure. But it was too late. The image of sweetly rounded breasts made buoyant by the water, slender legs, and miles of creamy skin just begging to be stroked had already burned into his brain. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea after all. He fought the urge to pounce on her and contented himself with drifting closer, his fingertips brushing the ends of her hair instead.

Another soul-deep sigh came from her rosy lips, and he bit down on his own to stop the groan of appreciation from escaping. Yeah, the idea was a good one. She needed this, and selfish bastard that he was, he’d damn well enjoy the view while it was on offer. What was that old adage? No harm in looking. He snorted under his breath at the lie. Whoever had come up with that gem had obviously never been hard to the point of excruciating pain before.

Blue eyes popped open. “Did you say something?” When he didn’t answer, she turned her head, her focus sharpening on his face. Her eyes widened and she blinked, her lower half sinking under the water as she gathered herself to stand. She took a hesitant step toward him, her head cocked to the side, her eyes reflecting conflicting emotions. “Sam?”

The husky quality to her voice stroked along his nerve endings like a cat being rubbed the wrong way, pleasure and discomfort at once, and it was all he could do not to pull her flush against him to ease the sensation. “There is so much I want to say to you, Lucy, but I don’t think you’re ready to hear it.” He contented himself with lowering her bikini top in his mind instead.

Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession, drawing his eye, her nipples hardening behind their thin barrier as if she could see into his mind. “Why don’t you try me?”

His body surged, and he gritted his teeth, battling the desire to throw her over his shoulder caveman-style. He contented himself with trailing his fingertips over the silky skin of her arms instead. Satisfaction tugged at his mouth as he watched goose bumps lift the fine hair on her flesh, the desire to smooth it with his tongue eating away at his control.

Shrill shrieks of laughter sounded from a bunch of kids nearby as they played water tag, and Sam took a step back, the reminder they were in a public place making it possible.

“Another time, brat.” Stretching his arms out over the edge of the pool, he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, feigning relaxation. A loud sigh of frustration was her only response. No matter how hard it got—and God knew it was getting really hard—he wouldn’t break the course of action he’d devised and determined on during the long sleepless night he’d endured after her request. Regardless of the fact their time together was manufactured for a reason, Lucy deserved to be wooed, not thrown into bed at the slightest provocation. He wouldn’t cheat her of that. And if he was honest with himself, he was enjoying the wooing process. Even if the anticipation of having her was slowly killing him.

The soft sound of lapping water slowly relaxed him. The faint scent of Lucy’s shampoo rising to his nostrils told him she wasn’t far away, but now her proximity had become a comfort. Tense muscles relaxed as the healing properties of the water worked their magic, leaving him loose-boned and lethargic.

After an age, he opened one eye and turned his head toward her. She floated on the water, looking for all the world like a water nymph. Freed of the product that had kept her locks styled in soft wisps around her face, now it floated in crazy spikes around her head. He grinned. It suited her much better that way, wild and unpredictable. The undertones of her hair had darkened to gold, the blonde highlights shimmering with light, warming her porcelain skin to a soft cream, and looking as edible.

He groaned. Just like that, he was right back where he’d left off.

Her lashes fluttered open. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Making a cup of his hand, he trailed water over her belly, making her straighten with a squeak. He squinted up at the sun. “I think it’s time to get home, though. Don’t want sunburn on top of sore muscles.”

“Ah, you’re right. How long have we been here?”

Her voice was low and husky as if she’d just woken up, and his whole body tightened. She stretched luxuriously, chest rising out of the water, back arched and arms raised, and he almost swallowed his tongue.

“Long enough.”

Her brow rose at the abrupt answer, and she eyed him for a moment before her shoulders lifted in a shrug.

Turning his back, he placed his hands on the side of the pool and surged out. Water streamed from his body, the cool breeze prickling wet skin on contact. Snatching up his towel from where he’d dropped it, he hastily wrapped it around his waist, then retrieved Lucy’s. He turned just in time to see her climb the ladder, each rung revealing more of her gleaming-wet, scantily-clad body. What a stupid idea of his to grab the bikini. He hadn’t thought that one through enough. Desire, hot, heavy, and insistent, settled low in his belly. She reached for him, and blood roared through his veins, but she only tugged the towel out of his grip.

“Thanks.” Her eyes sparkled with an amused light.

The little minx was playing with him. He grinned even as his body ached with unfulfilled need. Slowly but surely, the brat was coming back to herself, justifying his decision to involve himself in this crazy project of hers. He’d gladly endure the moments of sexual frustration if it meant bringing her back to life.

His eyes caught on a bead of water at her collarbone. It slid over the ridge and down her skin, gathering speed until it disappeared between the gap created by her cleavage. He swallowed thickly and averted his gaze to just beyond her shoulder. Helping her out didn’t mean he’d suddenly turned into a damned saint, though. Everyone had their limits, and he was dangerously close to his.

“I’ll meet you at the car when you’re dressed,” he growled. Not waiting for an answer, he spun on his heel, pulling his shirt over his head as he went. Once they were both fully dressed and headed for home, surely this new hyperawareness would settle down to a low simmer so he could ignore it.

But it didn’t matter how he spun it in his head, deep down he suspected that might not be the case. There was no getting away from the fact their relationship had changed whether they liked it or not, and forging new paths would be the only way forward.

Opening the door to the Jeep, he placed the towel onto the seat and grimaced as the damp material of his shorts stuck to his thighs. Cold and uncomfortable, he figured the sensation would help distract his thoughts from those of the woman who’d been tormenting him.

Lucy sauntered toward him, hips swinging and the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth while the breeze tousled her hair dry. Dressed now in soft track pants and casual shirt, she looked no less tempting than she had in her barely-there bikini. He muttered a curse under his breath as she approached and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. What the hell had he let himself in for?

“Oh,” she groaned. “That feels better.” She collapsed into the passenger seat and turned sparkling eyes on him. Even after being immersed in the pools, the subtle scent of her shampoo still clung to her, filling the enclosed space with her essence. “That was such a great idea, Sam. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He took shallow breaths and depressed the button to open his window, mentally cursing at its slow speed. A stray breeze flitted through the vehicle, and he closed his eyes as it drifted over his face and he gratefully sucked it in. Fortified, he opened them again and started the engine.

As the car ate up the kilometers, a companionable silence settled over them. The hiss of tires on tarmac, the quiet rumble of the engine, and the radio set low to a favorite rock station all combined, adding to the atmosphere of shared comfort. He’d forgotten how much he’d enjoyed the sheer pleasure of Lucy’s presence. It had always been so easy. Unlike other women who’d flitted through his life, she didn’t need entertaining. She was content to be in her own headspace, not feeling the need to fill it with idle chit-chat. He never had to explain himself to her, to tell her what he was thinking. She got him.

Until it came to how he saw her, that was. Then she was clueless. Not that he could really blame her if he were being honest. He was still trying to understand it himself. For so long she’d been his best friend’s sister, putting her strictly out-of-bounds. He’d struggled to play by the rules for years. But now Jordan was gone, they were both adults, and the rules had changed.

“You missed our exit.”

He blinked, bringing their surroundings into sharper focus. He glanced at the rear-vision mirror to see their off-ramp grow smaller and smaller. At her arched brow, his mind raced with a plausible excuse. “I thought we’d grab some Thai food to take home. I know it’s your favorite. There’s a little restaurant just off the next off-ramp that does the best Tom Kha.”

“You remember?”

She spoke in an awed hush, and he stole a glance at her. Those big blue eyes were glued to his face.

“You’re not so easy to forget, Lucy.” He cleared his throat to clear the telltale huskiness from his voice. “You’d better text your mum to let her know we’re getting dinner.”

Lucy bent her head over her phone, thumbs flying, and Sam’s lips twisted. What a fool. He’d been congratulating himself on his powers of restraint, safe in the knowledge they were on their way home and he could finally relax his guard. At least they’d have a chaperone in Janet, otherwise all his carefully-laid plans might combust into flames.

****

Lucy’s body ached all over. Places she didn’t even know had muscles were sore, but her spirits soared. From beginning to end, it had been a wonderful day. The fact Sam had missed the turnoff was the icing on the cake. Not only the obvious—Thai food for dinner—but it proved to her he was just as distracted. His hasty excuse didn’t fool her for a bit.

Sam guided the Jeep around the final tight corner toward her childhood home, the wheel sliding through his hands as they straightened up. The rasp of skin on leather made all the fine hair on her body rise, reminding her of how they’d felt as they glided over her bare skin. She bit down into the fleshy part of her bottom lip and squeezed her thighs together as her pulse quickened.

Thankfully, Sam pulled the vehicle to a stop outside the house in that moment, and Lucy gathered the plastic bags containing dinner and the backpack, glad for the distraction. With her hands full, she waited for Sam to round the hood and open her door.

“I’ll take those.”

His fingers grazed hers as he hefted the bags from her lap. Ducking her head to conceal the flush creeping over her cheeks, she shouldered her backpack and led the way up the path. The door opened in a rush as they approached, revealing her mother’s face wreathed in smiles.

“Darlings! Did you have a good time?” She practically danced on the spot as she ushered them in. Her mother had never been accused of being subtle.

Lucy shot a glance back over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. Sam’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Moving past the two women, he disappeared into the kitchen with the food, and Lucy turned her attention back to her mum. “We had a lovely time. It was so good to see Mrs. Oates again. I’d no idea she was still alive let alone still the force she was when we were little.”

“Hasn’t Sam done the most marvelous work there? If it wasn’t for him, well, heavens”—her hands flew up to express the depth of her concern—“poor June would be in dire straits.”

“Was her situation that bad?” The thought made her stomach hurt. The woman could be cantankerous and difficult, but despite all that, she’d always had a soft spot for her.

“It was.” Her mother turned from the door and linked her arm through Lucy’s, towing her slowly toward the kitchen where they could hear the rattle of plates and cutlery being set. “Sam has always had a heart of gold. That boy is special.” She stopped and laid a palm on Lucy’s cheek, lowering her voice. “Nothing in the world would make me happier than to see my two favorite people in the world realize they were made for each other. Please don’t hurt him.”

Lucy startled. “Me? Hurt him? You’re saying that to the wrong person, Mum.”

Her mother shook her head and smiled serenely. “No, honey. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Of course, while you were in Australia he dated, but he seemed to hold himself a little aloof from those women, as if he was biding his time or waiting, for what, I didn’t know. He never looked at anyone the way he does you. I’m so thrilled that it turns out it was you he was waiting for all along.”

A rush of joy, so powerful, took her breath away before commonsense brought her back to earth, and her stomach contracted into a tight ball of pain. If only it were true. He was obviously a much better actor than she’d given him credit for. Her mother had been fooled completely. Summoning a watery smile, she squeezed Janet’s hand. “Trust me, hurting him is the last thing on my mind.”

Her mother nodded and linked their arms again. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving and I smell Thai. I swear, that boy knows all our little secrets, doesn’t he?”

Lucy choked as she took a step forward, ignoring the quizzical look from her mother. You don’t know the half of it.

Sam glanced up as they entered the kitchen, a bottle of wine in his hands. His gray eyes sparkled with mischief as the bottle hovered over the third glass. “Sorry it’s not whiskey, but will wine do, Lucy?”

She shot him a withering glare. “Ha, ha, very funny.” Truth be told, the remnants of her boozy night was still affecting her. At least, she was fully blaming her jittery stomach on that. “Just a half glass for me, thanks.”

He came out from behind the counter, handing each woman her glass. Lucy fumbled in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid his touch, and he lifted his glass, an amused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes trained on her over the rim. Her gaze dropped first to his bottom lip curved against the glass and then his throat as he swallowed. Averting her gaze, she took a hasty sip.

With more haste than grace, she slid into her chair, swearing it wasn’t disappointment she felt when Sam sat beside her mother rather than her.

“How were the pools at Miranda? Last time I was there, they were pretty basic and rundown.”

Sam smiled at Janet. Giving her his undivided attention, he described the improved facilities at the pools and their day. Lucy’s chest tightened as she watched her mother bloom under his attention. The animated expression looked good on her, lightening her features and softening the lines of sorrow bracketing her mouth. She’d had it tough for so many years, first losing her son and a few years later, her husband. Yet she’d kept her sanity—no thanks to her daughter.

The bands tightened around her chest. Too wrapped up in her own grief and pain to worry about anyone else, Lucy had found escape in travel. Living abroad had filled her life with new experiences and people, easing the pain to a dull ache until she was able to ignore it almost completely. God, her mother must have been so sad and lonely.

Now guilt smacked her upside the head, and tears burned at the backs of her eyes. As if she could sense it and without breaking the conversation with Sam, her mother reached out and clasped her hand. Lucy gave a squeeze in response. The bands loosened their hold. It was so good to be home. The past could stay exactly where it belonged.

Once their meal was completed, her mother pushed back from the table and started to collect the dishes.

Sam stood up at once. “Leave that, Janet. I’ll take them in.”

“Thank you, darling.” Stepping back from the table, her gaze swung between him and Lucy, a look of calculation on her face. “I’ve got some reading to catch up on, so I’ll leave you two to it.”

Lucy rolled her eyes even as nerves started fluttering in her belly at the thought of being alone with him. The woman had all the subtlety of an elephant playing hide and seek. “Night, Mum.”

“Night, Janet.” He pushed his chair out from under the table and stood, stretching his arms above his head until joints popped. “I’ve paperwork to catch up on yet before I hit the sack, so I’ll head off soon too.”

Disappointment slammed through Lucy’s body at his announcement, but she shoved it away to the back of her mind and took a load of dirty dishes through to the kitchen, leaving them to their goodbyes.

Filling the sink with hot soapy water, she scrubbed and rinsed the glasses, then attacked the plates. His scent and the prickling of her skin warned her of his presence moments before his hand and forearm came into view to pluck a glass from the drainer.

“You do know your mother has a dishwasher, don’t you?”

“Of course,” she muttered, keeping her gaze on the sink of bubbles, and scrubbed harder as if she’d discovered a particularly stubborn patch. “Sometimes I just like to do them by hand.”

He didn’t reply, just reached out for another glass, his forearm brushing against her ribs, and her head snapped to the side. “Leave those for me. I know you’ve got pressing business to take care of.”

He stilled, and she could feel his gaze boring into her. Ignoring him, she continued to slap the dishes into place, suds dripping from her elbows onto the floor. Threatening tears rose behind her eyes, and she bit into her bottom lip, hoping to head them off. Large hands dipped into the water, pulled the brush and plate out of her hands, and settled on her shoulders, wetting through the fabric, turning her to face him. Water sloshed onto the floor, but neither of them reacted.

He bent his knees to peer directly into her eyes. “What’s going on in there, Luce? Talk to me.”

She gazed into those beautiful silver-flecked eyes. The line between his brows deepened as he waited her out, patience and concern radiating from them. Oh, God. She was a goner. For the hundredth time since they’d embarked on this journey, the same question pounded in her brain. How was she going to come out of this with her heart intact? She had to remember this wasn’t for real. Before she lost her heart completely.

She sniffed and shook her head. “Sorry, Sam. I must be premenstrual. I’m just feeling a little delicate lately.”

He shook his head, and his lips curved into a skeptical grin. “Truth, remember? There is something more going on. I’m not letting you go until you tell me.”

That’s just the thing. I don’t want you to let me go.

Finally, the pressure from holding back the huge feelings became too much, and the dam broke, the words tumbling out of her. “Fine. I’m angry and scared, okay. Angry that you plainly can’t wait to get away from me. Scared of what you’re forcing me to feel, and absolutely bloody terrified that when this is all over, I won’t be able to put myself back together again.”

Silence hung in the air after her outburst. Her chest heaved, and she bit her lip as he stared at her, motionless. What had she done? Panic rose into her throat, and her fingers gripped the edge of the counter at her back, nails digging into the stone to anchor her body. It took everything she had to keep her gaze on his when all she wanted to do was run and hide.

His hands dropped from her shoulders, leaving her skin cold under the damp material. She swallowed the sharp stab of pain that rose from her stomach, then gasped aloud as his arms circled her waist instead, pulling her snugly against his chest. She stood stiff in his embrace until the warmth from his body gradually thawed her out. With her cheek plastered to his chest, his scent filled her nostrils, and his heartbeat soothed with its strong, regular rhythm.

“I know, brat. I’m just as scared as you.”

The words rumbled from his chest, low and urgent. At first, she thought she’d imagined them, but his heartbeat had accelerated, and his fingers had bunched reflexively in the material of her shirt. She pulled away to glance up at him, and her breath caught. The last time she’d seen such a somber expression on his face was the day they buried Jordan.

He cupped her jaw with both hands, his gaze intense. “I’m scared I’m going to do more harm than good. What the hell do I know about helping someone who’s been through what you have? What they need?” Raw emotion roughened his voice. “But then I figure I know you, Lucy, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you whole again.”

He lowered his head, his lips pressing against hers in the lightest of kisses. His fingers sank into the hair at the nape of her neck, his palms cradling her jaw with exquisite tenderness, and the tears that had banked up finally burst free, rolling down her cheeks. His thumbs swiped them away, and she wrapped her arms tight around his waist, worried he might stop, but he merely deepened the kiss. A groan erupted from his throat when she opened for him, turning into a moan when she boldly stroked his tongue with the tip of hers.

She felt him harden against her stomach and attempt to ease his hips away, but she tightened her grip. She needed to feel him; his heat and strength, the proof of his desire for her throbbing against her body. When he gave in and allowed his hips to realign with hers, a thrill shot through her and something dark and ugly broke its hold over her.

She pressed closer to his body, and heat exploded within her, demanding she get closer still to all that firm deliciousness. Plates clattered in the dish rack as his back hit the bench, and he grunted. She broke off in a daze, breathing hard and her chest heaving. As she became aware of the world around them once more, her eyes widened. Oh, my God. She’d practically attacked him, forcing his strong six-foot frame hard against the cupboards in her need to get closer.

Horrified, she took a step back, her fingers pressed against her lips. “I’m sorry.”

Crossing his feet at the ankle, he lounged indolently and eyed her, head cocked and hands braced behind him on the counter. “For what?” If it weren’t for the heightened color on his cheekbones, dangerously glittering eyes, and white knuckles, she’d think he’d been completely unaffected.

She huffed out a breath and gathered her courage. “I didn’t…” She broke off to run her gaze over him, her eyes resting momentarily on his swollen mouth, and the memory of the crockery rattling as she pushed him back against the counter reverberated in her head. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

His brows shot up before he threw his head back and roared with laughter. Indignant, Lucy crossed her arms, then the ridiculousness of her question sank in as she eyed his big frame, and she chuckled along with him, her shoulders loosening and her arms dropping to her sides.

He reached out and snagged her around the waist, pulling her into a loose-limbed hug. Even though the embrace this time was casual, her heart still gave a hard thump at the contact, and a fine current of energy skimmed across her skin before settling into a comforting low hum.

“You are precious, brat.” Affection shone from his eyes. “The only thing that would hurt would be my pride if you didn’t respond to me like that. I can assure you I enjoyed every moment of it.” He gave her a squeeze, then bent down to kiss her cheek and strode to the back door. “Now I really do need to get that paperwork done if I want to take you out next weekend. I’ve been neglecting it a bit lately.”

“Again? Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

“Fishing, Lucy?” He sent her a grin and ignored her question. “In case I don’t see you before next weekend, wear something comfortable, preferably old.” His voice dropped an octave. “We’ll be getting good and sweaty.”

Dirty images ran through her mind at his suggestive comment, and she caught her breath. His grin was wicked, and he winked as her cheeks flamed. Before she could think of a smart rejoinder, he let himself out the door and waved goodbye.

She watched him jog down the few stairs and scowled at his departing back, refraining from the urge to poke her tongue out at him—the tease. Ignoring the pang the knowledge she probably wouldn’t see him for the rest of the week brought, she clenched her jaw and shut the door with a firm push before he caught her watching after him like a lovelorn teen. That would be embarrassing.

Her body hummed from the aftereffects of the kiss, and despite her best efforts, her mind replayed the innuendo in his last words just as she had no doubt he’d intended. Hot and sweaty conjured up all sorts of delicious images, and after having ogled a half-naked Sam in the recent past, her imagination didn’t need anything more to feed it X-rated images.

Shaking herself out of daydreams, she pushed away from the counter, picked up the tea towel he’d draped over the back of a chair, and dried off the last couple of mugs.

Thankfully, the soak in the hot pools had taken a lot of the expected ache from her bones after their ride, but without the distraction of Sam around, she was more aware of the weariness invading her body. With a sigh, Lucy gave the kitchen a final glance. Satisfied it was in good order, she ascended the stairs and headed for the shower.

Hot water pounded her shoulders and back, releasing tensed muscle, and she sighed in bliss, then adjusted the temperature slightly and stood directly under the jet. As the water blasted over her skull and down her body, her thoughts turned back to that last kiss. Liquid heat pooled between her thighs and made her knees tremble. She wanted him. He’d hardly touched her, but already she ached for more.

Grabbing the sponge that hung over the spout, she squirted a dollop of her favorite shower gel onto it and scrubbed. Lathered up, she stepped back under the water and let it stream over her until the water ran clear. Shutting off the jet, she stepped out and toweled dry. Catching a glimpse of her naked body in the mirror, she stilled.

She suddenly realized she hadn’t looked at herself as a whole since the attack. It hadn’t been a conscious thing, but now she recognized it as a defense mechanism her brain had put in place. Sam had gently coaxed her into taking back her power, given back her right to enjoy her femininity and revel in it without any feelings of fear or guilt. Taking a deep breath, she dropped the towel she’d automatically raised to cover herself and studied her form, imagining Sam’s reaction to seeing her naked for the first time. A fine quiver started in her belly at the thought, and her heartbeat sped up.

Remembering the heat in Sam’s gaze when he’d first seen her in the red bikini, she wondered if she’d been a bit harsh on herself. Sure, she might not be runway-model material with her slightly too short torso and in her opinion, too-small breasts, but knowing her curves had affected him regardless of what she perceived as her imperfections thrilled her and gave her confidence. She suddenly couldn’t wait to get all hot and sweaty with him—whatever that entailed.

As she brushed her teeth, she glanced up into the mirror, arrested by the woman staring back at her. A dreamy expression glowed from her eyes, softening her features, and a rosy flush highlighted her cheekbones. She looked like a woman who knew what she wanted—and one that knew how to go about getting it. Her mouth curved.

Snapping the bathroom light off, Lucy drifted down the hall to her room. Dropping her robe, she slipped under the covers and settled back with a contented sigh. She’d almost drifted off to sleep when she realized she’d gone to bed naked again. A huge step forward for the girl who felt uneasy and had trouble sleeping without the weight of layers of material between her and the world.

She stretched luxuriously, contentment filling every atom of her being. The worries, fears, and insecurities that usually sat in the dark recesses of her mind and found their way into her dreams were startlingly absent. Her chest rose and fell on a long sigh, and she dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in years.