“She knew you cared. That you were working hard.” His powerful fingers moved over her back, stroking her skin through her T-shirt. The caring gesture made her heart beat faster.

“I’m so sorry about your father, Naldo. I know you were very close.”

“There’ll never be anyone like him.” The sadness in his voice made her stomach clench.

“You’re like him.”

“Yeah. Stubborn as a mule and twice as tough. I probably should have been in the library reading condolences this afternoon, but I was out in the groves checking the irrigation just like my dad would have been.” His chest shook with a deep, silent laugh.

She opened her eyes. “Don’t you have employees to do that for you?”

“Of course.” A twinkle of humor shone in his serious dark eyes. “But we do it because the trees are family to us. The land is in our blood. Sand and grit.”

A warm chuckle rose inside her. “Especially the grit. You always did have plenty of that.”

“You, too.” He rubbed her back again and her fingertips sank into the soft linen of his shirt. Hard muscle matched his hard-nosed attitude. “We’re both tough and stubborn and that’s why we’ll get on with our lives and make them both proud.”

You will, but will I? She couldn’t be sure of anything anymore. Her brash youthful confidence had been beaten to its knees by betrayal, divorce, bankruptcy and now the loss of the one person in the world she could always count on to be there for her. It would take every last ounce of grit to start over.

She realized Naldo was staring at her. The heat of his gaze threatened to sear right through her skin. For a second she was conscious of her tearstained appearance, then her thoughts seemed to slip sideways and the hot, musky male scent of him crept over her.

His lips were on hers before she could summon a protest. His warm tongue slid into her mouth, gathering hers as he hugged her into his embrace. Reassuring, strengthening, the power of his arms filled her with sensations she hadn’t dared to crave.

Desire rippled through her like gasoline on water, threatening to ignite. His hands roamed over her back, and lower, reaching boldly into her shorts to cup her buttocks.

She groaned as he sucked her lower lip and trailed kisses over her cheek. Her fingertips dug into the thick muscle of his back before rising to tangle themselves in his silky hair, then sliding down to rove over the rough denim of his jeans.

A deep, masculine groan emerged as she slid her fingers inside his waistband. She felt him harden against her, straining against the zipper of his jeans. A high note of pure, quivering arousal shot through her.

How much she’d once craved this moment. She and Naldo, wrapped together.

His tongue pushed between her lips, stealing her breath. She rubbed her breasts against his chest, her nipples craving contact with the hard muscle as her hips pushed into his.

I love you, Naldo. I always have.

The stray thought startled her and she pushed it aside. But she didn’t push aside the hands that reached under her T-shirt, unfastened her bra and lifted the flimsy shirt over her head.

Naldo’s lips parted as he lifted her bra straps off her shoulders, releasing her breasts. He cupped one in his broad hand and the roughness of his callused palm surprised her as he grazed her nipple, sparking a shiver of arousal.

With a swift movement that made her gasp, he gathered her in his arms and sat her unceremoniously on top of the Formica kitchen table she’d once done her homework at. The cool, smooth surface, with its metal edge, made her aware of the aroused wetness of her sex inside her thin cotton shorts.

His eyes slid shut as he lowered his mouth over her nipple with a low groan. Eyes open in wonder, brain clouded with delicious arousal, she played in his hair with her fingers as he buried his dark head at her breast.

He sucked hard, and her pulse and breathing quickened. She squirmed on the table. Naldo dove lower, mouthing her belly, running his big hands over her thighs.

The sensations he triggered inside her felt so good. Pure pleasure, flowing over her skin and along her limbs. A feeling of being treasured, cared for, loved.

He doesn’t love you. The thought stabbed her like a shard of memory.

A relationship of convenience. How he’d described the match between his father and her mother.

He was lonely, she was here.

At that moment he tugged at her shorts and panties and dove inside, pushing his face to her crotch. His tongue tickled her aroused flesh as he explored the moist heat. He sucked hungrily, his hands now pressed into her thighs, pushing them against the metal table edge.

An intense expression contorted his handsome features. His eyes squeezed shut, his hair hanging damp on his forehead, he looked totally absorbed.

In her.

She shuddered as his tongue flicked over her sensitive flesh, overwhelmed by sensations that jumbled her thoughts and shook her to the core.

Naldo pulled back and his eyes met hers. His dark gaze, serious, penetrating-demanding-called to something deep inside her.

Wordless, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her gently off the table. He cradled her as he carried her up the narrow staircase into the bedroom where she’d slept last night.

He lowered her carefully onto the bed and she pulled him to her. She tugged his buttons through the holes in the soft linen, reaching for the warm skin beneath, then shoved his shirt back over his shoulders as the soothing weight of his chest sank into her.

His teeth grazed her neck, then he layered soft kisses over her cheeks and onto her parted lips. He didn’t stop kissing, the pressure more urgent, as he fumbled with his zipper and shoved his jeans down.

Excitement built inside her as she helped him ease the stiff fabric over his powerful thighs. He had to pull back to step out of his jeans, and the shock of cool air on her face and chest made her open her eyes. The sight of Naldo-naked-made her catch her breath.

Thick muscle, tan skin accented with sworls of black hair, that arrogant, handsome face-everything about him was riveting male perfection.

His expression focused, he eased her shorts and panties off. Without missing a beat, he pulled a condom seemingly out of thin air and rolled it on. Her belly quivered at the sight of him, hard and eager, yet controlled.

With his thumb and finger he lifted her chin and raised her face to his scorching black gaze.

“Anna,” was all he said before he caught her mouth in a kiss and lowered his big body onto hers.

Slow, restrained and quivering with arousal, he slid deep inside her. She writhed, unable to control a moan of intense pleasure as he filled her.

The delicious masculine weight of him pinned her to the soft mattress. Raw excitement surged through her and she wriggled under him, wanting to be free, and not wanting to be free at all.

Naldo’s low groans and heady male scent filled her senses. His hands cupped her face and he kissed her, softly, on the lips, then harder, forceful, as he pushed into her.

She raised her hips to his, jousting with him, pushing into him and drawing back, teasing and tantalizing, building a rhythm that pounded through them both with feverish intensity.

She wrapped her arms tight around his back and gripped him, as unfamiliar emotions and sensations spiked inside her. She sensed her climax coming-a stark, loaded calm like the tide drawing far out to sea before a tsunami-before it exploded over her as his name flew from her mouth.

“Naldo.” The single word pierced the predawn silence as Naldo let out a shout and joined her in a fierce climax of his own.

They lay there locked together, panting, sweat mingling. Naldo’s hard-edged cheek on hers, his hands cupping her face, fingers tangled into her hair. His big, heavy body trapped her in a prison of pleasure as he throbbed inside her.

Skin to skin, his heart beating fast and hard against hers, they held each other tight.

It felt so right.

The culmination of a million childish fantasies with nothing childish about it. A haunting, sleep-stealing dream come true.

She and Naldo in each other’s arms.

His face nuzzled hers, long black lashes still closed over those intense dark eyes. His breath, warm and sweet on her skin, seemed to breathe new life into her and she felt stronger than she had in months. Years.

Ever.

Naldo shifted to one side and eased his weight off her. A smile slid across his sensual mouth as he kissed her cheek. With one broad hand he eased them both onto their sides, still inside her, and held her close.

His thumb brushed a stray lock of hair off her cheek. The thick lashes lifted and the look he gave her-naked admiration-made her face heat.

“Love all,” he murmured.

Her breath caught in her throat. Love? What was he talking about? Her pulse picked up speed. “What?” she managed to ask.

“Tennis. The way you played it-fierce, wild yet controlled. Every game a fight to the death.” A dimple appeared beside his wicked smile. “Your passion isn’t reserved for the courts.”

She stared at him for a moment. He meant “love,” as in tennis scoring, not the pledge-my-heart-for-all-time kind.

A shard of disappointment undercut her relief. “I haven’t played in a while.”

One black eyebrow lifted.

“Tennis, I mean,” she blurted.

“Ah.” His eyes twinkled. He knew exactly what she meant. “But something tells me you’re still on top of your game. Maybe we’ll have a chance to play again before you go?” He turned away to remove the condom.

Before you go. His words stung her. A reminder that this heavenly intimacy was very temporary. Probably the only reason he’d allowed it to happen was because he knew she’d soon be far away. No danger of her making pathetic assumptions about any kind of future between them.