He grinned, looked around at the impressive contraptions. He wasn't into anything crazy, but a pair of handcuffs with Julie certainly wouldn't suck.

"Not exactly."

"Please tell me pictures aren't going to surface of you naked in leather chaps with a spiked collar around your neck."

"I went to an S and M club once, a long time ago. Just to watch. Not participate." He shrugged.

"Every guy wonders."

"Not the guys I know," she muttered. Then she asked, "Was it weird? Or . . ." She looked like she couldn't quite get her mouth around the word. "Exciting?"

Ty spotted a balcony out the window, and he grabbed her hand.

"Come outside with me and I'll tell you," he said as she willingly escaped with him out a set of French doors.

The view from the rooftop terrace was breathtaking. The sun was just starting to set over endless fields of vines, and the air was scented with growing grapes. Holding Julie's hand, something in Ty's chest buzzed like he was on the verge of a game-winning play.

"Honestly" he said as he rubbed his thumb softly against her palm, "I don't need a bunch of contraptions and semi-naked strangers to make sex exciting." She looked up at him, her blue eyes almost translucent in the sunset's reflection. He was going to put himself out on the line. He'd just have to pray that she wouldn't take him down.

"All I need is you."

It should have sounded like a sappy come-on but it didn't. And there were a million things she could have said, like, "I bet you say that to all the girls," or "Give me one reason to believe you." But she didn't. The only words she had were, "One night only."

He stared at her with an intensity that made her go hot all over.

"Only tonight."

He moved quickly, not giving her a chance to change her mind, to listen to the part of her brain that was reminding her she was on the clock right now, that she was supposed to be policing Ty's licentious activities, not leading him down the path of sin.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the pad of one finger. His lips were soft, so soft, and she wasn't prepared, couldn't have ever walled herself off to the sensation of him unfolding her other fingers, of the kisses he laid on her skin, of the way he was worshipping even the smallest areas of her body.

"So stern tonight," he murmured.

He slowly turned her away from him, and she placed her hands on the balcony railing as he pressed his hips against her bottom.

"But always so perfect. So beautiful."

Julie was helpless to move, to speak, to think as his thumb slid up from the base of her neck to her hairline. She held her breath, waiting for his next move, knowing it was going to be just the right one. She'd twisted her hair in a tight bun. He gently removed the pins holding back her hair one at a time, letting it fall down around her neck and shoulders. Strong fingers massaged her scalp. A moan emerged from her throat. The longest tips of her hair brushed against the top of her br**sts and she found herself wishing his hands were on her, instead.

"Does that feel good?" he whispered against her hair.

"Mmm-hmm," she whispered back, not wanting him to stop the massage, yet wishing he would just push her skirt up and take her from behind without any more foreplay. His hands moved across her shoulders, his fingers brushing against her collarbones as he slid her black wrap off her shoulders. It slid against her sensitive skin, down her back, to the floor. Julie had never felt so sexy. She'd never been undressed by a man before; no man had ever taken the time. Ty brushed her hair to one side and began unclasping and untying the tiny strings behind her neck that held up the top of her dress. The way his fingers brushed against her skin, the fact that every ounce of his attention was focused on her, was unbearably sensual.

The fastenings give way and arousal flooded her from head to toe. No matter how things turned out between them, she'd remember his kindness, his tender touch, for the rest of her life.

"I need you to promise me something," he said.

Somehow she managed to nod.

"Promise me you'll tell me if you want me to stop. No matter what." Deep within her chest, something full and sweet began to blossom.

"I promise."

An instant later, he cupped her br**sts in his big hands. She rubbed against him, pressing herself into his palms, and he stroked her with the tips of his fingers.

"Is this okay?" he said in a low voice.

He already knew the answer, but part of their dance was hearing her say it aloud. She gasped as his thumb and forefinger found her ni**les. Her legs were shaky and she leaned into him, into his huge erection, for support.

"It's perfect."

A breath before his mouth came down on her neck, he said, "You're perfect," and then he was nipping at all the sensitive spots he'd remembered for ten long years. All the while he cupped and stroked and caressed her br**sts, which seemed to grow fuller, her ni**les harder, with every kiss.

"I want more," he said softly and she pushed her hips into his as a silent "Yes." In a moment, her dress fell to the terra-cotta tiles.

His gaze roved up her legs, her hips, her back, burning a path of sensual destruction. She hadn't been able to resist putting on her sexiest panties, sheer black lace that revealed most of her bottom. She'd told herself she hadn't worn them with the intention of Ty ever seeing them, but now, as she stood before him gripping tightly to the cool rail, she knew she had.

Every single thing she'd done since he'd reentered her world had been with the intention of seduction. Every movement, everything she'd said, everything she'd thought, had been about fulfilling temptation.

She wanted him to want her.

And he did.

She wanted pleasure.

And he would give it to her.

She turned her head slightly and he pounced. His mouth claimed hers, and one hand curved around her rib cage to fondle her br**sts again. Please, she begged silently, please touch me between my legs. Answering her prayers, his free hand began the slow trip past her belly button, under the thin triangle of lace, and found her already wet and slick, ready for everything he would give her before the night was through. His palm cupped her, one finger dipping between her folds. She arched her br**sts into one hand, pressed her hips against the other. He tortured her with pleasure, building her desire higher, until she thought she'd scream.

His mouth moved from her lips down to that sensitive spot behind her ear. "Come for me, sweetheart," he whispered and his soft plea pushed her over the peak into an explosive climax. Her muscles clenched around his long, thick finger as an orgasm rocked through her. She didn't even care if anyone walked outside, looked up, caught them; if anything, the idea excited her.