She cared. Elizabeth. Her passion lit her from the inside until she glowed with maternal warmth and anger. Vibrant.
Desirable. Dangerous.
To distract her, to indulge himself, he moved in, nudging her back against the sink. “Zachary,” he said deliberately. He put
his hands on the counter, caging her hips, watching the wild beat of her pulse under her jaw. “Elizabeth.”
Lowering his face to her neck, he breathed her in, the sharp notes of her irritation, the sweetness of her arousal. He eased
forward, teasing her with the brush of his body, letting her feel how she affected him.
“Satisfied?” he taunted against her throat.
She inhaled sharply, her breasts rising, and he raised his head and took her open mouth. He felt a flash of heat, of triumph,
of delicious friction, before her fingers tightened on his arms and she bit his lower lip. Hard.
His head jerked back. Snarling, he met her gaze.
Her eyes were dark and dilated, her mouth resolute. He was confident enough of her, of his own skill and experience, to
believe he could still have her. He almost lunged again for her mouth.
But she stopped him, slapping her palm against his chest. “My satisfaction isn‟t the issue. This is about Zack. He comes
first.”
Of course the boy came first. Morgan would not still be here on this island otherwise.
He leaned back slightly, his lip throbbing, his body tight. “So?”
“So.” Her breath escaped in a short, explosive puff.
“Any personal relationship between us, any physical relationship, complicates things.”
Impatience licked him. “Without our physical relationship, the . . . Zachary,” he said carefully, “would not exist.”
“As far as you‟re concerned, he didn‟t exist. Not until a few days ago.”
“And you hold that against me. Would use that against me.”
She opened her mouth to deny it. “Pretty much.”
Surprise held him momentarily speechless. Surprise and respect.
“It‟s not like you have this great track record of sticking around,” she continued. “Until I‟m sure you won‟t hurt Zack, it‟s
better if we take things slowly. Our relationship begins and ends with him.”
Strong words. She was a strong woman.
But not, he thought, invulnerable. He surveyed her face. Her gaze was clear and fearless, her cheeks flushed with what
might have been anger. But beneath the angle of her outthrust jaw, he caught again that tiny, betraying flutter of her pulse.
“Is it the boy you‟re protecting?” he murmured. “Or yourself?”
Liz‟s heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest.
“Is it the boy you’re protecting? Or yourself?”
Both, she thought desperately.
“Zack, of course.”
Well, it was half true, wasn‟t it? She nudged Morgan out of the way with her hip and opened the freezer door. She needed
to get a grip on the situation and herself. “The kids are waiting for their dessert. Why don‟t you carry the ice cream out there
while I make coffee?”
She thrust the carton at him.
His brows flickered upward. “You trust me alone with your children?”
Not really. But she trusted herself alone with him even less.
“I think you can deal with each other unsupervised for a few minutes,” she said, her tone as dry as his.
She spooned coffee into a paper filter, trying to ignore the pounding in her blood and the trembling of her hands. She was
not the kind of woman who quaked with lust. Not usually. Not since Copenhagen.
Maybe stress and deprivation were finally getting to her.
Or maybe Morgan was.
He set the ice cream on the counter and came up behind her, moving silently and too close. “I am not finished. I want you.”
Her breath backed up in her throat.
“First lesson in parenting.” She flipped the switch on the coffeemaker and turned, leading with her elbow. He stepped back,