If Richard’s analysis was right, what was she doing with Kam? He was no stellar specimen when it came to being an ideal mate, was he? Quirky, commitment-phobic geniuses who also just happened to be drop-dead sexy and could get almost any woman to fall into bed with them were hardly the hallmarks of a perfect partner. Kam had told her point-blank yesterday that his relationship with Phoebe Cane was agreeable to him because it was just about sex, no strings attached. Yes, he’d insinuated that he didn’t plan to hurt her and hinted that he had a deeper interest in her than casual sex. Hadn’t he?

Why did it feel in retrospect that he hadn’t really said anything all that substantial last night? She closed her eyes, trying to re-create the intensity of emotion she’d experienced. It’d felt overwhelmingly intimate and beautiful and special while she’d been under his influence. In the morning light, her logical brain tried to re-create the magic of letting go, of trusting . . . but it eluded her.

No, she hardly felt safe carrying on this way with Kam.

Yet here she was.

What Kam did make her feel, she realized as she opened her eyes and stared at herself honestly in the mirror, was good, and more alive than she remembered feeling in her entire life.

Maybe this wasn’t wise and maybe it wasn’t safe, Lin acknowledged as she opened up a drawer and found a comb. But it was wonderful.

Didn’t she deserve the spotlight for a precious moment, no matter how short that time was? Didn’t she deserve to bask in the euphoria of great sex, risk, and romance instead of always being the efficient, careful, reliable understudy hovering in the wings?

Kam’s eyes grew warm when he entered the apartment a little less than an hour later and saw her on the floor next to Angus, a computer in her lap and a cup of coffee steaming on the table not far away. Sunlight flooded through the floor-to-ceiling windows and turned Lake Michigan a sparkling teal in the distance. Angus had succumbed to the warm sedative of the sun a few minutes before, when Lin had scratched her behind the ears.

She smiled as he stalked toward her, his gaze lowering over her appreciatively and lingering on her bare, outstretched legs. “You look a hell of a lot better in that shirt than I do,” he said, referring to his gray button-down, which fell on her at midthigh.

“I disagree. I happen to like this shirt on you a lot,” she said, taking a sip of coffee.

He tossed a shopping bag on the couch behind her. “You should, since you’re the one who picked it out.” Lin’s hand jerked, splashing some coffee on her upper lip. “Now we’re trading off. I’m the one buying clothes for you.”

“What . . . do you mean?” she said looking up at him.

He smirked. “You didn’t really believe that I thought Ian picked out all those clothes for me, did you? Or chose the new curtains for Aurore, or all that bedding and linens and the new dishes for the kitchen? Give me some credit for reading him. Everyone knows he relies on you for stuff like that. Everyone knows you have impeccable taste.”

She blushed. “I hadn’t realized you knew.”

“Your mark was all over that stuff. Your reputation precedes you. Ian, Francesca, Lucien, and Elise talk about you as if you could do no wrong. You transformed Aurore. Only you could make that ancient pile start to look not only elegant, but also comfortable,” he said matter-of-factly, kneeling on the carpet and sitting next to her, his back leaning against the couch, one long, jean-covered leg bent, the other one sprawled out in front of him, his hip pressed against hers.

“I’m glad you liked the things. It was hard to choose, never having been to Aurore. Never having met you,” she admitted.

For a few seconds, they didn’t speak. The sunlight brought out the russet highlights in his dark hair. Before she could second-guess herself, she touched the thick waves. He smelled good, like soap and the outdoor air. “Ian described your character a little to me. It guided what I bought for clothing. Rugged. Independent. Nonconformist.” She met his sun-gleaming eyes. “Utterly male.”

His eyebrows went up. “Ian described me that way?”

She smiled as she reflected. “No. But somehow, I got that impression.”

He caught her stroking hand and pressed his mouth to her palm. Warmth spread in places far away from his lips.

“I like your glasses,” he said when he lifted his head slightly, his breath brushing against her skin.

“Thanks. I wear them for reading.”

She felt him studying her intently.

“What?” she asked, grinning, sensing he was analyzing her component parts again like he did a machine’s.

“This is how you should be all the time,” he murmured gruffly. “You can’t take the love of work out of the girl, but you should do it more like this. With your hair down. Sitting on the floor in the sunlight. Wearing one of my shirts . . .”

His lips were suddenly moving on hers, warm and sweet as the sunlight. She held her breath during that kiss, as if by doing so, she could hold on to the moment. His arms surrounded her, molding her back muscles in that delicious, bone-melting manner he had. Their kiss became wet and deep, tongues dueling sensually. She slid her hand beneath the blue-and-white plaid cotton shirt he wore, touching his warm, smooth skin. He groaned into her mouth and tightened his hold. He brought her onto his lap with a flex of hard muscle. She landed, straddling his hips, their kiss barely pausing.

Lin wasn’t sure how long they kissed and touched, their actions simultaneously languorous and hungry. She was wrapped in a cocoon of sunshine with him and she was melting, her body softening and heating, her flesh yielding in a way it never had before. Maybe he felt the need to stretch the moment, too, because while he touched her, he did so fairly chastely, framing her jaw with his hand or brushing his fingertips against the shell of her ear or her nape. He rubbed her back, coaxing her muscles to yield even more. She touched his neck and shoulders, stroking him through the opening of his shirt. At one point, he leaned back and calmly removed her glasses, placing them on the couch behind him, then resumed his sensual kiss. She felt his arousal beneath her spread pussy, but for once, urgency didn’t ride her as it often did with him. Kam trumped all that. His taste and his molding lips and his sleek, masterful tongue.

Inevitably, their arousal swelled untenably, though. She panted softly, helping him to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his button fly. She came up on her knees, granting him room. He worked his clothing down to his thighs, and then she came back over him. He held his erection in place and she lowered, gritting her teeth as his flesh slowly fused with her own. Her core had gone liquid with sweet arousal, but she had to apply a steady pressure to get her flesh to relent. Their gazes held fast until she sat in his lap and his cock pulsed high inside her. A sharp cry escaped her throat and he caught it with his seeking lips, nibbling at her, calming her as he rubbed her back.

“Venez maintenant. Commençons,” he coaxed gently against her mouth after a moment. Come now. Let us begin. His large hands slipped beneath the shirt and palmed her buttocks. He lifted and brought her back down on him, squeezing her ass when he was fully sheathed, his mouth shaping into a snarl of pleasure. She joined him in the movement, rising and falling onto his cock, their mutual dance creating a divine friction. As they grew more frantic, he took more of her weight, his arms flexing powerfully as he lifted and crashed her down into his lap with increasing speed. The pressure was intense.

“I’m going to come,” Lin cried out.

“No,” he said sharply. He pushed her down onto his lap with a loud smacking sound. He held her there, his cock throbbing in protest in her deepest flesh.

“Oh . . . I have . . . to,” she said in a strangled voice, her hips flexing, straining for the required pressure to come.

“Don’t,” he said so sharply she opened her eyelids sluggishly. His facial muscles were strained, his eyes fierce. “Make it last.” His words went straight to her heart. She wanted it to last, too, but she sat on the launching pad, flaming, straining to ignite. She moaned, her hips struggling against his hold.

He grabbed some of the hair that trailed down her back. He lifted her shirt with his other hand and transferred it to the fist gripping her hair. Gently, he pulled back on her hair, pulling back her head. Chin up in the air, she whimpered when he slapped his palm against her bare buttock in a sharp, rapid rhythm. Smack, smack, smack.

“Oh!” she cried out, grimacing. He’d stung her skin, but his cock had jerked viciously inside her at the sound of his palm cracking against her ass. It’d been that which had made her exclaim in a mixture of discomfort and acute arousal. He released her hair and she met his gaze slowly.

“Better?” he asked hoarsely.

She nodded. The absolute necessity to climax had been pushed back temporarily by his spanking hand. They just stared at one another for a moment, both of them breathing heavily. A slight sheen of sweat shone on Kam’s upper lip and forehead. The sunlight made his eyes into slits of blazing silver.

“Let’s make it last,” he repeated.

“I’ll try,” Lin agreed shakily.

“Don’t move,” he directed.

Holding her stare, he began to rapidly unbutton the shirt she wore. He pushed back the plackets, baring her breasts to the sunlight and his gaze. His nostrils flared. Again, she grimaced as his cock jumped inside her.