He cleared his throat and shifted his back against the wall where he was leaning. “A few months went by, and things were great. Neither of us wanted to leave, but when our analysis of the site was finished, we didn’t have much choice. I came home, and she went back to Dallas. We made plans for her to come to San Francisco to visit, but a week went by, and I didn’t hear from her. I tried to call her, but it kept going to voice mail. So after a few days, I got worried and flew out to Dallas to see her.”

“What happened?”

He shook his head, feeling like a complete idiot all over again. “Turns out the joke was on me. Her husband answered the door.”

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah, there was one of those. Seven-year-old. And a girl who looked to be about five. Rachel was out shopping when I got there. Her husband looked as shell-shocked as I felt.”

He could feel Simone cringe against his chest. “What did you do?”

“Said I was from the office and pretended to be dropping off some files for her. Then I got the hell out of there. But I think he knew what was going on.”

“That’s awful. Did you ever hear from her?”

“A day later. She called after I was back in San Francisco.”

“What did she say?”

“Not much. There wasn’t much she could say. Just that she didn’t know how to tell me the truth and that she never wanted me to get hurt.”

Simone didn’t answer, and in the silence, Mitch realized those were the same things Simone had told him the night she’d come to his house and those thugs had shot up his property.

Except…in Simone’s case, at least she’d been sorry. Rachel had only been sorry she’d been caught.

A shiver racked Simone’s body, and, reflexively, Mitch pulled her in closer. “Are you cold? We can flip the heater on for a bit to take the chill off.”

“No, I’m fine.” She huddled close, so the length of her thigh was against his, heat seeping from her into him, sending tingles of awareness all across his flesh. “I’m sorry she did that to you. That…wasn’t right.”

Mitch stared off into the darkness, remembering how upset he’d been. Ironically, the pain of that humiliation didn’t even compare to how he’d felt when Simone had left him. “I wasn’t really in love with her. I think I wanted to be. After we lost my sister, I realized that family is the only thing that really matters. I think more than anything I just wanted to know what it was like to have a family of my own. She was the wrong one to want that with, though.”

And Simone was the right one. He just wasn’t sure how to convince her of that fact.

“You’re a good man, Mitch Mathews.”

He huffed, because he didn’t feel particularly good. He felt stupid in a lot of ways. And helpless. But he was willing to put himself out on a limb for a chance to make things right with the woman in his arms. “I’m no angel, sweetheart. I’ve done plenty of dumb shit in my life.”

“I’m sure you have, but you’ve got a good heart. That doesn’t change. You’re going to make a great husband and father someday.”

It just won’t be today. Or with me.

He heard the unspoken words as loud as if she’d screamed them. And inside, everything he’d been holding back, all his plans to keep things light between them, whooshed right out of his head. Along with what was left of his common sense.

“You’re damn right I am.” He gripped her by the jaw and turned her face up to his. Surprised dark eyes met his. Eyes that had captivated him from the first. “But not someday.”

Then he lowered his mouth to hers.

* * *

Simone sucked in a breath and froze.

Mitch’s lips pressed against hers, soft, firm, cool like the air in the small lookout, but warming from a heat that was flaring to life between them. Like a fire sparking against black embers and slowly turning to a full-blown blaze.

He groaned, the sound echoing through his chest and into hers, sending fingers of awareness tingling through her core. He eased the pressure on her mouth, tilted his head, and kissed her again. Her pulse sped up. Electricity raced all along her skin. Panic—or maybe it was excitement, she couldn’t tell which—clouded her mind, making it hard to think, to act, to know what to do.

The hand at her jaw slid up into her hair, and his fingers spread, cupping the back of her head, tugging her even closer. She grabbed a fistful of his flannel shirt—to push him away or pull him closer, she wasn’t sure which—but right now she was glad he’d taken off that heavy coat, that she didn’t have to fumble with layers of fabric, that he wasn’t giving her time to think.

“Give in to me, Simone,” he mumbled against her lips. “You know you want to.”

Oh, but she did. It was why she’d gone to see him that night at his house. Why she’d come all the way to Tahoe with him. Why she’d agreed to this silly hike that now didn’t seem so foolish anymore. But nothing had changed. If anything, his life was in more danger because of her, and if she gave in, if she took everything he was offering without thinking of the consequences and something bad happened to him, she’d never be able to forgive herself.

She let go of his shirt and pressed her palm against his chest. This time to push him away. Definitely to push him away. She eased back enough to suck in air. “Mitch. This isn’t a good idea.”

“Your good ideas haven’t exactly panned out, sweetheart. Time to try someone else’s.”

He lowered his head once more, and panic snaked in. A panic that told her if he kissed her again, she might not have the strength to stop him. “Mitch—”

His mouth closed over hers before she could get the rest of the words out. And then his heat was there, sliding across her lips, dipping inside to tangle with her tongue, filling her senses with every inch of him.

She groaned, and her fingers curled in his shirt once more, this time to pull him closer. It was stupid. It was reckless. It was everything she shouldn’t do. But she wanted. Hadn’t stopped wanting. And had no more resistance left to fight him.

“Mitch…”

Her tongue brushed his, slowly at first, then with more insistence. She let go of his shirt, slid her hand up his neck and around the back of his head, her fingers combing through his soft hair, pulling his mouth more firmly down to hers. He answered with another groan, and the arm around her shoulder slinked lower, down her back, pushing her up. Then he was lifting her, tugging her, shifting her body so she was straddling his hips, then sinking down onto his lap and the glorious bulge in his jeans that told her exactly how much he wanted her.

They didn’t need the heater now. She doubted they even needed the thin Mylar blanket. Sweat slicked her skin as she trailed her other hand up his chest and into his hair. As she kissed him deeper, again and again. As she felt his hands streaking down her back to guide her up and down as he rocked his hips against her most sensitive spot.

She was breathless. Panting. Couldn’t think. Could only feel. Her hands gripped both sides of his face. She pulled away just enough to breathe but didn’t let go. His lips pressed against the corner of her mouth, her jaw, trailed a line of hot, wet kisses all the way to her ear. She trembled as he blew against her neck. Desire and a need to feel him everywhere, curled tight, wicked fingers all through her belly, shooting electrical charges straight to her breasts and down into her sex.

“Ah God, Simone.” He pushed away from the wall and sat up. One hand slinked up her back and into her hair. The movement forced her hips into closer contact with his, and the hard length of his erection rubbed against her mound, making her see stars. “I’ve been going mad without you.”

He dragged her mouth back to his and kissed her deeply, his lips on fire, his tongue hot and wet and sinful. Everything she remembered it to be.

She was going mad too. Was absolutely wild right now from the taste of him.

She kissed him again and again. His mouth turned greedy, wanton against hers. She moaned against his lips, wanting so much more. The hand in her hair slid down her neck, across her collarbone, and brushed her breast. Electrical charges shot all through her body. She groaned against him. Kissed him deeper. His fingers found the tip of her breast and pinched her nipple through her shirt, a mixture of pleasure and pain she felt everywhere.

“Mitch…”

“I’m right here, baby.” His other hand found the snap on her jeans and flicked it free. “Give in to me, sweetheart. I need you.”

She needed him too. He had no idea how much. But when his fingers grazed the soft flesh of her lower belly, a little of the sex fuzz filling her mind cleared. Just a tad. Just enough so she became cognizant of what they were doing. Of what doing this with him would mean. Of what kind of danger that would put him in down the line.

Her hands landed against his shoulders, and she pulled her mouth from his, gasping for air, grappling for some kind of control. “Mitch, wait.”

“No waiting. I’m done waiting. You want me. I can feel it.”

His lips pressed against her neck. His hand slinked lower. He rocked his hips until pleasure ripped through her pelvis, and she knew if he did that again she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. But she needed to put a stop to this. Not for herself, but for him.

“Mitch…no.”

“Yes.”

He held her tight, but she put all her strength in her arms, pushed away from him, and stumbled to find her footing. Her boot slipped, and she nearly fell into him, but caught herself at the last second and broke free. Breathing heavily, she held out her hand and moved back a step, unable to see anything in the pitch-dark room, even her own fingers. “I said stop.”