He was at her side in an instant. “You haven’t failed,” he said, crouching down beside her. His hands hovered over her shoulders. He wanted to touch her but didn’t know if he dared. He had no rights here. He’d thrown them away years ago.

“It’s sure not success,” she muttered.

Despite his misgivings, her pain spurred him to action. He couldn’t let her go on suffering like this. “It’s not about clothes,” he said. “It doesn’t matter what you wear, Jamie. You’re still a woman.”

“You’re not exactly the picture of mental health yourself,” she said, then sniffed. “Forgive me if I don’t get all enthused about your opinions on my femininity.”

He grabbed her arm and tugged. As he rose, he pulled her to her feet. “I may not be Joe Normal, but I am a man. There’s not a doubt in my mind that you’re female down to your soul.”

His dark eyes blazed with a light that should have blinded her. Instead, Jamie found herself wanting to move closer and bask in the glow. Worse, she wanted to believe him. When the temptation grew too strong, she forced herself to remember what she’d looked like when she’d glanced in the mirror. The shock had left her breathless.

She hadn’t expected to be instantly beautiful, although that would have been a nice fantasy. But she also hadn’t thought she would look so incredibly stupid. Who would have thought it would be so hard to look like a girl?

“You don’t have to be kind,” she said, and tried to move away.

But he didn’t let her go. He held on to her right arm, just above the wrist. His grip wasn’t enough to bruise, but she knew she wasn’t going to get away until he chose to let her go.

“I’m not being kind. I’m telling the truth. You’re a beautiful woman.”

Humiliation stung in her throat and behind her eyes. She blinked to hold back the tears. “Yeah, right.” She started to twist her arm, not caring if it hurt. She had to get away before she did something stupid, like cry.

“Dammit, Jamie, what can I say to convince you?”

“Nothing.”

“I guess you’re right about that.”

He slipped his hand down until it covered hers, brought her palm to his belly and slid it lower. He moved so quickly, she didn’t have time to figure out what was going on until she felt the soft fabric of his sweatpants and the hard ridge of his maleness underneath. Her breath caught. Slowly she raised her gaze to his.

“That’s right,” he said, his voice a low grumble. “You’re woman enough to turn me on. You’ve always had that power.”

The fire brightened in his eyes. She could feel the heat.

Some of it came from him, but most of it flared to life inside her body. Blood flowed rapidly, causing her breasts to swell and her thighs to ache. She swayed slightly.

She remembered the last time she’d touched him intimately. Seven years ago. He’d broken her heart. If they were intimate again, she wouldn’t get off so lightly. This time she would be destroyed.

“Jamie,” he whispered, and drew his hands up to her shoulders. She placed her fingers on his narrow waist.

The price didn’t matter. She hadn’t been able to resist him then and she still couldn’t resist him. It wasn’t even about the desire she felt boiling inside of her. The need to be with him came from a much more dangerous source.

Love. She loved him. And in loving him, she could deny him nothing. It didn’t matter that this was just temporary, or that it would mean the world to her and little more than relief to him. For this hour, this afternoon, these few days, however long it lasted, she needed to be with him. Really with him.

He lowered his head. The slow, deliberate movement warned her of his intentions. If she’d planned to run, now was the time. But she didn’t. Instead, she lifted her head toward his.

Their mouths touched. She’d relived their kisses a thousand times before. She knew what he would feel like, even after all this time. But he surprised her. Instead of overwhelming her with hard, hot desire, he kissed her gently. His lips barely brushed against hers. A sweet, almost reverent touch. As if they were innocent and this was the first time for both of them. As if the moment were meant to last a lifetime.

Her eyes drifted closed. She didn’t want to see anything; she just wanted to feel. His body was close to hers. They shared heat. Her heart rate increased-or was it his? It didn’t matter. Soon they would be one, with a shared experience to keep them connected always. His mouth clung to hers, lightly, like the brush of a feather. He exhaled her name and cupped her face as if afraid she would move away.

She wanted to tell him she would stay for as long as he wanted her, but she didn’t have the power of speech. All she could do was feel his mouth on hers and know that she’d finally found what she was looking for. All the time she’d spent searching and the answer was right in front of her. Zach was her solution. She should have known.

He didn’t try to deepen the kiss. Instead, he kept brushing back and forth, so soft, so tender. As her body trembled, she clung to him. He was the strong and solid part of her world. The long fingers holding her face slipped against her skin in the lightest caress. As if she were fragile. As if she mattered.

He tilted her head toward him and kissed her forehead, then her nose and her cheeks. He returned his attention to her mouth and stroked his tongue against her bottom lip. Sensation shot through her, like lightning across a summer night sky. It burned through to the bottoms of her feet and the bottom of her heart.

She opened for him. Instead of slipping inside, he nibbled on her lips, teasing her, making her want him more. When she couldn’t stand it another minute, she pushed her tongue forward until she reached his mouth. He parted and she slipped inside.

He tasted of passionate madness, of promise. He tasted as tempting as she remembered. They touched, tip to tip. They circled together. When she retreated, he followed her.

It was a kiss of reunited lovers. Her body recalled the ecstasy he’d brought her before and began to ache in anticipation. Memories returned, as tangled as the sheets on their bed so many years ago. Past and present merged, making her willing to brave the certain heartache that would follow.

His tongue explored her mouth, discovering points of pleasure. She sighed and returned the heated caresses.

He slipped his hands into her hair and tugged on the pins holding it in place. She felt it tumble over her shoulders. He buried his fingers in the long strands.

“I’m glad you grew your hair,” he whispered against her mouth.

“I thought you’d hate it.”

“Why?”

They were standing pressed against each other. Her breasts flattened against his chest; their thighs brushed. His hands were in her hair; hers clutched at his waist. How could they be this intimate and still have a rational conversation? She was having trouble coming up with complete sentences, although he seemed to be doing fine.

She felt a flush stain her cheeks, but she tried to ignore it. “You’re the one who wanted me to cut it in the first place.”

“For safety reasons,” he said. “You grew it back when you were an experienced agent.”

She risked glancing up at him. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “As simple as that?” she asked.

“You make things too complicated.”

He bent down and kissed her neck. The moist heat of his mouth made her knees buckle. She clung to him. He moved lower, nibbling at the curve of her shoulders, then lower still, licking a line down to the V of her blouse.

Her breasts swelled in anticipation. She wanted him to touch her there. He seemed content to taste her exposed flesh.

When he returned his attention to her neck, she arched her head back, accepting his homage.

She drew her hands up his chest. His sweatshirt was old and faded. Through it she could feel the contours of his chest. He was thinner than he’d been seven years before, but she could still feel the strength of him, the ripple of his muscles under her touch. She moved slowly, massaging first up, then down, trying to lure him into a sensual trap.

He raised his head and stared at her. The fire burned out of control. “Tell me you’ve missed me, missed this,” he coaxed.

She raised herself on tiptoes, then leaned close and pressed her mouth against his throat. She could feel the rapid thundering of his heart and the prickling stubble under his chin.

“You know I have.”

He groaned when she sucked on his hot skin. “Yeah, me too.”

It was as close to a confession of affection as she was likely to get. She raised her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down so she could kiss him. His mouth angled on hers. This time he took her as she remembered. Hard, hot and deep. Sexual desire exploded between them, loosening her fragile grip on sanity. She needed him; she wanted him. At last he was here.

He raised his head and stared at her. “What are you thinking?”

“About how much I want you.”

“I’ve got you beat on that one.” He touched her lips, then swiped his thumb across her mouth. She bit the sensitive pad.

His pupils dilated.

“Damn you,” he murmured, but it was a benediction, not a curse.

He reached behind him and pulled her arms free from around his neck, then he knelt in front of her. Large hands cupped her slender hips. He buried his face into the fabric of her skirt.

“Don’t doubt, Jamie. Anything but that,” he said, then reached for the zipper on her skirt. As he pulled down the metal fastening, the material slipped over her hips and sank to the floor. “You’re beautifully feminine. Soft and yielding-like silk.”

Her panties were cotton, high cut on the thighs, but more sensible than seductive. Zach didn’t seem to mind. He pressed his mouth against her flat stomach. She had to clutch his shoulders to keep her balance. His hair tickled the back of her hands. The dark, silky strands invited a caress. Even as her legs were trembling, she risked falling and freed one hand to stroke his head.