She’d played by the rules and avoided romantic entanglements while she’d served her country, which, put bluntly, meant no sex. For twenty long months. She wanted to feel a man’s body against hers, pushing inside her. And not just any man. She wanted Eric.

He’d been her brother’s friend since first grade. She’d grown up tagging along, and over the years, he’d become her friend too. But they’d never had a brother/sister relationship. There had always been something between them. Something hot they’d been too afraid to act on.

Not anymore. She’d survived one long deployment in Afghanistan. She refused to settle, to stand on the sidelines of her own life. She couldn’t do that, not when so many of the men and women she’d served with no longer had the chance to live, to swim, to experience the world around them—and make their every fantasy come true.

Georgia glanced back at the house. With the kitchen light on, she could see Eric standing by the sink, looking out the window. She had a long list of fantasies that started and ended with Eric. She was dying to strip him out of his business suits and run her hands over the muscles built from years of working alongside his crews. She wanted to taste him, explore every inch of his body, and witness the expression in his piercing blue eyes when he lost himself in pleasure.

But did she have the guts to approach him? To go to his room, his bed? To push him to act on the desire written all over his face?

She wiggled her toes in the cold grass. She was alive. She could do anything. She had to cling to that, remind herself over and over. Otherwise it would feel as if her world had slipped away because she’d been too weak to hold on.

Her bare feet touched the dock and she broke into a run, knowing he was watching. At the end of the wooden planks, she dove into the water. The cold shocked her senses. Her lungs contracted and her limbs went numb. But she didn’t fight it. The water was like an ice-cold barrier against her memories. The images of the men and women being blown to pieces, the feeling of her friend’s lifeless body in her arms as she tried to drag him to safety—it all froze in the pond’s cold depths.

Georgia swam deeper, pushing herself farther, knowing she required air. But part of her needed this more. Finally, her lungs screaming, she kicked her way back to the top.

When she surfaced, her bikini bottom floated beside her. She reached behind her head and pulled on the strings, freeing her breasts from the top. Tossing both pieces onto the dock, she glanced back at the house. Eric stood in the window watching her, his expression grim. Georgia gave a little wave and dove back under.

The water felt good, but knowing she planned to go after what she wanted felt even better. She swam deeper, faster. He might turn her away. Eric was steadfast and loyal. His moral compass would probably balk at going to bed with his employee, never mind the fact that her brother was his best friend and the number two at his company. Could desire override all of that?

She pushed back to the surface for another breath of air, clinging to the hope that the answer would be yes. Either way, she’d find out tonight.

ERIC TURNED AWAY from the kitchen window and closed his eyes. Georgia was naked in his pond. Raw need had a stranglehold on him, pushing him to think with something other than his brain and follow her into the water. But common sense told him it was wrong. And he always did the right thing.

He’d taken in his sister’s kid when she’d died in a car wreck with her husband last year. He’d built his father’s logging business into the largest operation in the country. And he’d employed his best friend’s little sister as Nate’s nanny when Liam asked. It was a bad idea then, and after three weeks of living under the same roof as Georgia, it was downright treacherous.

He’d had a raging hard-on for her from day one. He went to bed dreaming about running his mouth over every inch of her petite body. Judging from what he’d seen tonight, when she’d appeared in his kitchen wearing that poor excuse for a bathing suit, her breasts were the perfect size for his hands. He’d wanted to touch them since before he even knew what to do with a beautiful pair of breasts. Now he could drive her wild.

But he couldn’t lay a hand on her, especially not tonight. Liam was stopping by to see her. He hadn’t told Georgia because her brother wanted to surprise her. Plus, Liam didn’t want his little sister thinking he was checking up on her. But he was.

Fighting in a war—she might be a woman, but he knew for a fact she’d seen action while deployed—had changed her. Georgia had always been outgoing, but never daring. Now it was as if she required excitement. Within two days of arriving home, she had gone skydiving and received her first speeding ticket.

Georgia needed something to keep her out of trouble until she calmed down and agreed to get help dealing with the shit she’d seen and done overseas. And Eric had an opening for a nanny. She might be a little wild, but Eric trusted her not to do anything stupid while looking after Nate. So far, Liam’s plan was working. Since she’d started living at his place, she hadn’t embarked on a single life-threatening adventure. Instead, she’d turned all her attention to driving him crazy. She probably thought sex was her next big rush.

It stunk that she’d decided to toy with him. But then again, she had no clue he’d wanted her for as long as he could remember. He’d valued his friendship with her and her brother too much to act on those feelings. Still did.

He shifted in his chair. His mind knew he couldn’t touch her, but it felt as if other parts of his body hadn’t received the memo.

Eric closed his laptop—he couldn’t work when he couldn’t concentrate—and headed for his bedroom. Unzipping his pants, he sat on the edge of his bed, the one he slept in alone every damn night. Liam would be here soon, and he didn’t plan to greet him sporting a hard-on for his sister. Christ, if Liam saw her in that skimpy suit, or splashing around in the water without it, he’d put two and two together and start throwing punches. And Eric would deserve every hit.

Reaching inside his boxers, he freed his erection. He wrapped his hand around himself and closed his eyes. He pictured Georgia in his kitchen, walking toward him, pulling at the strings to her bikini. In his mind, she sat on the edge of his large, oak kitchen table, leaning back, offering him the view of a lifetime.

The things he could do to her on that slab of wood. He imagined what it would feel like to run his hand over her pale skin from her neck, down between her breasts, his fingers moving lower and lower until they found her wet, slick, and wanting. The mental picture pushed him close to coming.

Eric groaned and picked up the pace, his hand holding tight, moving up and down his shaft. Moisture beaded at the top. He captured it, using it to lubricate his movements. It wouldn’t be long now.

The soft sound of a door sliding open invaded the quiet. He felt a rush of night air, and the hand holding his dick stilled. He opened his eyes and looked toward the sliding glass door that led from his master bedroom to the patio.

Georgia stood there, a towel wrapped around her body.

What the hell? He kept his bedroom doors closed and locked. His housekeeper must have left the glass doors unlocked. He moved to cover himself.

“No, don’t stop,” she said, her eyes fixed on the hand trying to stuff his hard-on back into his pants.

“You shouldn’t be here, Georgia,” he said, his voice strained. “You need to go. And next time, knock.”

He watched as she bit her lip and cocked her head to one side. Long strands of her brown hair, wet from her dip in the pond, disappeared down the front of her covering. Her fingers toyed with the top of her towel. He didn’t see signs of bikini strings, which meant she’d left her suit on the dock. Knowing she was naked beneath that towel nearly pushed him over the edge.

“What if I stay?” she asked softly.

“I can’t touch you,” he managed through clenched teeth.

She slid the door closed behind her and turned the lock. “Then don’t.”

He saw something devilish flash in her brown eyes. The next thing he knew she’d let go of her towel. It pooled on the floor at her feet, leaving Georgia bare-ass naked in his room.

Eric sat on the bed, speechless, his eyes roaming over her body. He’d been right about her breasts. They were perfect. The tight peaks of her dusty pink nipples pointed right at him. His jaw clenched. He wanted to pull her close and run his tongue over her, drawing one breast into his mouth, grazing her nipple with his teeth before moving on to the second.

Georgia walked toward the foot of his king-size bed. Slowly, as if she didn’t want to startle him, she crawled onto the edge. His last few working brain cells told him to get the hell out of there. But he couldn’t move.

“No touching,” she said. “I promise.”

She shifted, swinging her legs around and spreading them wide. She planted her feet on his mattress. If he reached out, he could wrap his hand around her ankle. Hell, he could probably get both hands on her legs and pull her onto his lap.

Eric dug his hands into his comforter.

“Look at me, Eric,” she demanded. “Follow my hand.”

Resting back on one elbow, he watched as she ran her fingers down over her chest. Her head practically hanging off the edge of his bed, she traced a circle around her navel before moving lower still. She paused, her index finger running back and forth over the neatly trimmed strip of hair at the top of her mound.