The night air was cool so Cruz had left the sliding doors open to catch the breeze. Overhead a ceiling fan turned lazily, drawing in not only the air but also the heady scents of the flowering shrubs and trees. Once again Shea was stretched out on the soft sheets of his bed, naked, his mouth and tongue and fingers making a slow journey over her body.

In the dim light of the bedside lamp she could see the taut planes of his face and the dark pools of his eyes, eyes that ...