do it, swimming upstream against fierce currents, leaping up vast waterfalls.
For the first time in his life, after more than a decade of research, Ian began to understand the wild need that drove them.
When she pressed her soft curves against him, he lost all sense of reason. She kissed him with a hunger that seemed to match his own, her mouth tasting of strawberry tarts and the wine Gemma had served at dinner. It was an intoxicating combination that kept him returning to her mouth again and again.
Over her summer dress, she had put on the little jumper she’d brought along against the evening chill and he slid his hands beneath it to the warm, silky skin of her back. She shivered and made another of those sexy sounds that seemed to cut away all his restraints like a rigging knife on a bowline.
He wanted to make love to her. Right here on the dock, if he had to, or on his research boat, which bobbed softly on the waves. He wanted to be inside her, to feel that soft body arch against him, to lick and taste and savor all her hidden, delicious spots...
Some sort of lake creature splashed offshore, a small sound in the night but enough to jolt him back to his senses.
What was he doing?
Ian wrenched his mouth away from Samantha’s, his breathing harsh.
He couldn’t remember wanting anything as badly as he wanted Samantha Fremont in that moment.
She had shared with him deep pain from her childhood, and five minutes later he was kissing her like a prat who could only think about one thing.
Usually he prided himself on his control, his unfailing ability always to say and do the right thing in the right circumstances. Yet here he was, a heartbeat away from breaking all his rules and seducing this lovely, sweet, vulnerable American girl.
Good Lord. He had been willing to make love to her on a wooden dock, without any thought to privacy or dignity or, at the very least, comfort. Think of the splinters.
All right, yes, she had kissed him back. That didn’t excuse his actions. He was mortified with himself at the lack of control, even while a large part of him was more than a little regretful that he had somehow found the strength of will to stop.
She gazed at him, eyes wide in the moonlight while she tried to catch her breath. He wanted to kiss her all over again, that charming cleft in her chin, the dimple that appeared only on the left side of her mouth when she smiled, those perfectly arched brows.
He wanted to kiss her everywhere.
He released a heavy sigh. “We are apparently a dangerous combination, Ms. Fremont.”
“I fear you are correct, Mr. Summerhill.”
He should probably correct her. Tell her the truth. Everything would be so much easier if he truly was still merely Mr. Summerhill.
He couldn’t do it. Not yet. He had promised Gemma, for one thing. For another, he wanted to forget the rest of it for a few more weeks at least.
Instead, he rested his forehead on hers. “This is madness between us. I’ve never known anything like this heat we seem to generate.”
“Neither have I,” she said, her voice small.
“I’m leaving in only two weeks’ time.” Was he reminding her or himself? He wasn’t sure.
Her smile seemed a little sad but it slid away as she reached on tiptoe to kiss him softy. He closed his eyes, pushing away the heat to focus only on the sweet, seductive whisper of her mouth on his.
“I know,” she murmured. “And neither one of us is in the market for a summer fling. We’ve both made that clear.”
He had moved far beyond the idea of a fling with Samantha. This seemed like so very much more. Somehow, when he wasn’t paying attention, this woman had become vitally important to his world.
How on earth would he be able to say goodbye to her when this summer idyll ended?
“Neither of us needs a broken heart right now,” she was saying.
“No. True enough.”
“I’ve just told you that I have a very bad tendency to think I’m in love after just one or two dates. I can’t lose my head over you, Ian.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” he murmured, though he wanted that very much right now.
“So why don’t we agree that we will just spend the rest of the time you’re living next door as friends?” she suggested. “The children are still welcome to come over and help me