She held her own butt, her gaze glued to the tweezers. “I’m not sitting.”

“No. You’re going to bend over and let me take care of your business.” Unperturbed, he calmly fished through the first-aid kit for God knew what else.

“My business has been taken care of.”

He looked up at her words. Met her eyes. His mouth quirked as if he wanted to smile. “Yes, and that was my pleasure, believe me. This”-he gestured to her butt-“this is my job.”

She didn’t budge. “Yeah, um… about that other.”

His eyes heated. “Yes?”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “My… business… doesn’t usually get taken care of so easily.”

Now he did smile. “Like I said, my pleasure. Now get down here.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

“I understand English,” he said. “Quite well, even though it’s my third language. I understand analogies as well. You had an orgasm. Several, actually. I felt each of them, trust me. Watching you come, feeling you contract around me, was the highlight of a very fucked-up evening. Now come here.”

The steel of the tweezers gleamed in the moonlight, making the muscles in her bottom twitch. “It’s just that I don’t understand what came over me, because…”

When she didn’t finish her sentence, he arched a brow. “Because?”

This was simply too difficult with him looking at her. “Nothing. Forget it.” She whirled to go, but he caught her hand. He looked up at her with a patience she would never have guessed at, and she let out a long breath. “I don’t usually come like that… Well, I do, but only because I sort of… Oh, God.” She covered her face.

“Just out of curiosity,” he asked easily. “Are you still speaking English?”

“The last time I slept with somebody, I faked it.”

“Faked it.”

“The orgasm.”

“Ah. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Hands still over her face, she groaned. “Seriously, could you just not listen to me?”

“Did you fake it like the When Harry Met Sally fake it?”

“I don’t think I was that good.” She absolutely could not believe her mouth was betraying her this way. “The point is, I don’t usually go so… wild.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “Funny,” he eventually said, looking a bit wicked and naughty and far too damn proud of himself. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble with me.”

EIGHTEEN

You know what? We’re not doing this,” Dorie decided. But when she whirled away from Christian’s far too gorgeous face, he once again caught her.

“Sorry. We’re not done here.” He clicked the tweezers open and closed.

Again her bottom twitched, and she quickly played the compassion card. “Seriously, Christian.”

He put a mock look of fierce intensity on his face. “Seriously.”

“It’s just too embarrassing. I mean it’s on my thigh.”

“No, it’s on your ass.”

She felt herself get even redder. “Okay, yes. So you can understand why I’m feeling… awkward.”

He grinned. “That’s not what I’m feeling.”

She drew a deep breath that did nothing for her nerves. “Sort of my point. Look, you’re not going to get it out anyway, I tried. It’s in there good.”

“I can get it out.”

“Not without a needle, and-”

“I’ll get it, Dorie, I promise you.”

“You can’t, it’s-”

“I’ll bet you.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re so sure I can’t get the splinter, I’ll bet you. You name it.”

“I… that’s crazy.”

“Not if you’re so sure I can’t get it. Come on, let’s go for broke. If I get the splinter, you dance naked beneath the stars.”

She laughed.

He just waited.

“You’re kidding.”

“What’s the problem?” he asked silkily. “If I’m not going to get the splinter?”

There was no way he could, and yet that look on his face, that utter confidence, tripped her up. “What do I get? If you lose.” Which he would. He had to, because she was not going to dance naked. No way, no how.

“If I can’t get the splinter out, I’ll dance naked for you.”

Okay, now that might be worth the price of admission. “This is totally and completely crazy.”

“Chicken?”

“Of course not.” Hell, yes. “I just don’t see any reason to worry about the silly splinter, that’s all.” She plopped down on the rock, let out a little cry when the stone hit the splinter, and bounced right up again.

“Okay, that’s it.” He clamped a hand around her wrist, this time an inescapable grip, and pulled her onto his lap. Slipping his arms around her, he leaned in and surprised her with a kiss. Because he was the most amazing kisser on the face of the planet, she helplessly sank into it for several long, delicious, mind-blowing minutes. By the time they surfaced for air, she had her hands in his hair, and was rubbing herself against the intriguing bulge at the vee of his jeans.

With a low murmur of pleasure, he pulled her in for yet another deep, drugging kiss, then slid out from beneath her, sinking to his knees beside her, pulling her down with him, turning her so that she faced the rock.

Oh, God. He was going to slip into her from behind, and her legs trembled because she was going to let him. Just to see if she could come again without any effort at all, she told herself. Call it research.

Or sheer, unadulterated, uncontrollable lust.

He bunched up the material of her skirt, pushing it high. But instead of skimming her panties down, he slid them aside, bunching them where no panties should be bunched, giving her a world-class wedgie. “Hey-”

“Shh.”

She was just surprised enough to actually close her mouth, but then he flattened one hand on her bottom and ran a finger over the crease of her upper thigh, right where she’d removed the first splinter. “Good work,” he said. “Where’s the other one?”

“Don’t you even think about it,” she hissed, and began to struggle.

“Too late, I’m thinking.” He whisked her panties down to her thighs, leaving her hanging out in the wind. “Ah,” he murmured. “There it is.” He might have said other stuff, too, but Dorie was too busy trying to get free in order to kill him.

“Hang on,” he said.

Hang on. Hang on? Was he crazy? “Don’t you dare-”

He spread his hand over her now bared bottom, holding her down. “I just need a light”-he rifled through the first-aid kit-“Perfect.”

He’d found a flashlight. Which meant she was going to die of embarrassment right here. “We’re not doing this.”

“Not we,” he corrected. “Me.”

“I mean it, Christian-”

“Damn it, it’s infected.” He said this while still holding her down with ease, and she scrunched her eyes tightly shut because now that she wasn’t blinded by lust, she could only imagine the picture she made for him, bent over the rock, her skirt shoved up to her waist, her panties pushed down to her thighs, exposing-

“This might hurt a little-”

“Ouch!” She yelped at the sharp prick, and would have whipped around except for that whole holding her down thing. Almost before she could draw a breath, she felt his finger stroke the spot with something cool and incredibly soothing.

“Topical antibiotic,” he said. “Be still, you’re squirming all over the place.”

Her head was buried in her arms, her eyes still tightly shut. Be still? She was hoping to die.

“Relax, I’ve seen it all before. A million times.”

Yeah, just what she wanted to hear. Idiot. She was an idiot. “Thank you,” she managed, but the words backed up in her throat when his finger left the spot, replaced by-“What are you doing?”

“Kissing it better,” he murmured, his mouth against her skin.

She jerked upright, which had the effect of bouncing his mouth off her butt, and whipped around, shoving her skirt down as she did. “Okay, thank you for the splinter removal, but-”

He sat back on his heels, his eyes gleaming with good humor. “Yes?”

“That was entirely inappropriate.”

A full-blown grin left him at that. “You didn’t say that the first time I had my mouth on your-”

“Okay, you have to stop that,” she said, pointing at him. “Stop talking dirty.”

“That’s not talking dirty.” He rose to his feet, a lithe, easy motion, and took a step toward her. “Now this is talking dirty…” And he pulled her into his arms, putting his mouth to her ear, whispering things that made her legs wobble.

Between them she could feel herself go damp. “Okay, yes that was dirty.” She drew in a shaky breath. “But we decided not to do this again, remember? Now I’m going to bed.”

His eyes were sleepy and sexy as hell. “Fine. But what about the bet?”

Oh good God. “I did not agree to dance naked.”

“I took your silence as agreement.”

“Well, it’s a shame then that you didn’t specify which night.” Brilliant! “Because it’ll be the night that hell freezes over.”

His mouth curved in a little smile, but mercifully, he let her get away with it. Probably because when it came right down to it, he knew as well as she did that doing it again would be a colossally bad idea. So she faked a smile the way she’d faked orgasms-pre-Christian, that is. And then, with her pride intact-at least some of it-she turned and began walking back. She passed Bobby’s hat-sobering-and went directly to the pad Ethan had set up for her earlier, no longer in a talking or eating or anything kind of mood. Curling up beneath the very late-night stars, she closed her eyes and attempted to get some sleep.

Instead, she lay there for hours listening to the waves crash against the shore, because sleep wouldn’t come.

Day Two on deserted island-

Why isn’t caffeine a staple of all emergency kits?