He grabbed her arms and hauled her up against him. Melanie caught her breath as she bumped into the hard wall of his bare chest, and her pulse speeded up to triple time when she looked at his face. His eyelashes were spiky from the water, and his eyes darkened with that look she was not only coming to know, but to anticipate with bated breath. That look he got just before he destroyed her with his kiss.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and waited to be wrecked.

He lowered his head and kissed her with such slow, long, deep perfection, she could practically feel steam rising from her skin. The stunning contrast of the cool lake water, the hot sun, and the hard man pressing against her soft curves did her in. She knew exactly where this was leading, and it had nothing to do with martinis.

Running his fingers through her wet hair, he whispered her name against her mouth. "Melanie…"

Lost in a passionate haze, she answered, "Chris…"

"The canoe is sneaking away."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. She finally lifted her head and looked behind her. The upside-down canoe floated a good hundred yards away. The paddle was nowhere to be seen.

He walked her the short distance to the dock and helped her climb up. "I'll be right back," he promised, pushing off with a splash.

While he was rescuing the canoe and returning it to the rental booth, Melanie busied herself setting up their picnic lunch. She needed an activity, any activity, to keep her mind occupied and off that. Because it was so hot, she opted for a blanket under a shady willow rather than one of the redwood tables in the sun. The last thing she needed was more heat.

When Chris joined her, she handed him a frosty lemonade and watched him polish it off in a series of long swallows. Good grief. Even drinking lemonade, he was beautiful.

He flopped down on the blanket and helped himself to a sandwich. Melanie nibbled on her turkey club, trying to define the fluttering in her stomach. That same half-thrilling, half-terrifying sensation she experienced every time she looked at him. Every time she thought of him. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying it wasn't what she suspected but knowing it was.

"What's up, Mel Gibson?" he asked in a teasing tone. "You look so serious."

Melanie opened her eyes. He was sprawled on his side on the blanket, propped up on one elbow, studying her.

Serious. Yes. That's what I am. Seriously crazy about you. She stared at him, at his handsome face, the lock of dark hair falling across his brow, and knew she was more than crazy about him.

She was falling in love with him.

Good grief, how had that happened?

Okay, maybe it was because he was the most gorgeous man on earth. But Melanie shook her head and took an absent bite of her sandwich. His looks might have attracted her at first, but it was so much more than that.

He was kind. And thoughtful. He bought Barbie dolls for his niece and was sweet to his mother. He chatted with Nana and was going out of his way to do the crazy things she'd said she wanted to do before she kicked off.

Feeling a tingling warmth on her leg, she looked down and saw his hand resting on her knee.

"Is something wrong, Melanie?" he asked, sitting up, his voice filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

No. And it's all your fault, you gorgeous, sexy man, you. You have me all tied up in knots. I've got knots on my knots.

"I'm fine. Just sleepy, I guess. Too much sun, too much lake, too much food." Too much man. "All those dunks in the water left me kinda sore."

"I know just what you need. Lie down on your stomach."

Uh-oh. Being in a prone position while Chris was in the vicinity had "bad idea" written all over it. She glanced around. While the picnic crowds had thinned out, they weren't exactly alone. She was safe enough. Probably. "Lie down? Why?"

"Back rub. Guaranteed to cure what ails you." When she hesitated, he made a tsking sound. "Come on. This won't hurt. Just relax."

Relax? Fat chance. But before she could protest, Melanie found herself lying face down on the blanket, with Chris's palms skimming lightly over her back.

He increased the pressure, massaging her muscles with an expertise that left her purring like a kitten within seconds. He worked his way from her shoulders to the small of her back, kneading until she felt as loose and relaxed as a pile of watery Jell-o. When he finally stopped, she heaved out a loud, blissful sigh.

"Incredible," she moaned, rolling over onto her back. "Absolutely incredi-"

His mouth descended on hers, cutting off her tribute to his massage skills. He deepened the kiss, dancing his tongue with hers, and every relaxed part of her jumped back to life with a screaming roar. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she arched up against him, breathing his name.

He slanted his mouth over hers again and again, his fingers tangling in her hair, his upper body pressing her into the blanket. Just when she thought she was going to liquefy into mush, he abruptly sat up.

Prone and breathless, Melanie watched him scrub unsteady hands down his face. Then he stood and hauled her to her feet. Yanking up the blanket and the picnic basket, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

"Where are we going?" she panted, half from passion, half from the exertion of keeping up with his long-legged strides.

"Home."

Disappointment flooded her. Darn him for being so noble. "Oh."

When they reached the Mercedes, he tossed the blanket and basket into the trunk, then regarded her with dead-serious dark blue eyes.

"My home. Right now. As fast as I can get us there. We're going to finish this, and here is not the place. If you have any objections to that plan, I suggest you speak now or forever hold your peace."

Melanie's insides turned to goo. Objections? To making love with this incredible man? Did she have STUPID stamped on her face? Her previous hesitation and reluctance had turned into impatient need and anticipation.

But there was something she had to tell him first-something he needed to know up front.

Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, "I don't have any objections, but I have to warn you, I'm no good at… well, at that."

A frown appeared between his brows. "That?"

"Sex." A shaky laugh escaped her. "I just thought you should know. If you want to change your mind, I completely understand." Please God, don't let him change his mind.

He stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. "What the hell are you talking about? Why would you say something like that?"

"Because it's true. My ex-fiancé, Todd, was not impressed with my… er, performance." She ticked off items on her fingers. "He said I was too uptight, too unimaginative, and basically kind of cold. Oh, and I almost forgot-boring. At least that was his justification for sleeping with my best friend."

Something flashed in his eyes. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Several seconds passed before he replied in a low voice, "We've already established that your ex-fiancé was a jerk. Surely no one else has ever said something like that to you."

Melanie studied the scuffed toes of her Nikes. She might have experienced a more humiliating conversation in her life, but she couldn't recall it right now.

He touched his fingers under her chin and forced her to look up at him. His eyes were dark and a frown bunched his brow. "Melanie?"

To her utter consternation, hot tears filled her eyes. A look of amazed understanding dawned on his face. Uttering a groan, he pulled her against him.

"Are you telling me there hasn't been anyone else?" he asked, stroking her hair.

Melanie nodded, completely mortified. She never should have started this. Could humiliation be a cause of death? She hoped not, or she'd be buried in the ground in no time.

"Todd was the only one," she whispered. Oh, well. She'd told him. Let the chips fall where they may.

He leaned back. "Look at me."

When she did, she saw that his eyes were serious, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Do you know what you need?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"A psychiatric consultation?"

"Nope." A sexy, devastating smile eased over his face. "You need a second opinion."

Melanie looked up at him, at that devilish yet tender expression, and her heart nearly flew out of her chest.

When she remained silent he continued, "Important matters always require a second opinion." He dropped a kiss on her nose. "Just call me Dr. Chris."

Melanie bit her bottom lip. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you-"

"Don't," he said, his voice suddenly harsh, his eyes flashing. "I don't want to hear you say that." He cupped her face in his hands. "You and I are going to make beautiful love together. The only worry I have is that the waiting may kill me."

Whatever lingering doubts Melanie might have had vanished in a heartbeat when he kissed her-a long, slow kiss filled with unmistakable passion, desire, and longing.

Resting his brow against hers, he said in a husky voice, "I want you so badly I can barely think straight." He leaned back and searched her eyes. "Do you want me?"

Melanie knew if she said no, her nose would grow three feet à la Pinocchio.

"Yes," she whispered, her heart pounding, praying she wasn't making a mistake. "I want you."

"Thank God," he breathed against her lips. "Let's go."

Chapter 11

By the time Chris parked the Mercedes in front of his condo, he'd managed to get his emotions under control. Barely. Every time he thought of Melanie's words, of how she thought she stunk at sex, he wanted to break something-and that jerk Todd's face was at the top of the list. God help that bastard if I ever meet him.