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  “She fell in love with a bear?”

  “No, a bear ate her.” Phin rolled his head to look at her. “Appalachia is not big on silly love songs.”

  “A bear ate her.” Sophie shook her head. “Leave it to you to think that’s romantic.”

  “The song’s beautiful.” Phin looked back at the stars. “It ends with her ghost wearing a crown of sorrow. Very romantic.”

  “Dead women are not romantic,” Sophie said flatly.

  “Okay, she’s not dead,” Phin said. “The bear ate her, and she came her brains out.”

  Sophie felt her laugh spurt before she could stop herself. “Oh, very nice. That’s not romantic, either.”

  “It is if you do it right.”

  Sophie thought about it. “I must not be doing it right.”

  “It wouldn’t be you that isn’t doing it right,” Phin said. “It’d be the bear.”

  “No picking on the bear,” she said. “Liberated women take care of themselves. ‘I’ve read The Second Sex. I’ve read The Cinderella Complex. I’m responsible for my own orgasm.’ ”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, ‘Why?’ That’s a line from a movie. Tootsie. It’s a famous line. I can’t believe you didn’t recognize it.”

  “I don’t watch movies,” Phin said. “I read. And I repeat, why would your orgasm be your responsibility during oral sex?”

  Sophie sat up a little. His tone was matter-of-fact, but his subject matter wasn’t. “I don’t think I want to talk about this.”

  “Okay,” Phin said.

  Sophie splashed her feet in the river and tried to think of something else. Talking about oral sex with Phineas T. Tucker was not something a smart woman would do. If you talked about sex with men, they often took it as a sign you wanted to have some. And then where would she be? She let her mind slide off that one fast, and it ended up back on his question.

  Of course she wanted to be responsible for her own orgasm. She was an independent woman in control of her own life. She wasn’t about to throw herself at some man and selfishly demand that he satisfy her while she just lay back and enjoyed herself—

  No, that wasn’t right, either.

  “It’s because I’d have to depend on somebody else to give me what I want,” she said, and Phin rolled his head to look at her. “I’d be one of those clingy women like Virginia Garvey or Georgia Lutz who just wait for men to take care of them and then are disappointed when they don’t. If I take responsibility, then I can’t be disappointed with anybody but me. I have control.”

  “And you see that as an improvement.”

  “It’s empowering,” Sophie said uncertainly. The rum and Coke were wearing off and so was the river. It still sounded and felt wonderful, but the fish stink was there, too. Reality, making its usual appearance just when she was getting somewhere.

  “ ‘Empowering.’ ” Phin didn’t sound impressed.

  “Well, it’s better than just lying back and hoping for the best.” Sophie kicked the water.

  “Ever tried that?” Phin said.

  Sophie kicked the water again. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Okay,” Phin said, and went back to watching the stars.

  The amount of water she was splashing was ruining the peaceful effect of the river so she stopped and let it flow past her ankles. The silence stretched out until all she could think of was Phin lying behind her. He wasn’t that attractive. He was a pain in the butt. He probably thought she was uptight just because she was independent. He didn’t even know what he was talking about. Her heart pounded harder the more she thought about him.

  “Sex isn’t what’s important anyway,” she said loftily. “It’s the relationship that matters, and relationships take work.” He didn’t say anything, so she went on to fill the silence. “I mean, sure, it sounds good to just hand everything over to somebody else, but that’s not how it works in real life.” She felt angry about that, which was totally inappropriate, and she was pretty sure it was the rum and Coke betraying her, but it might have been her life.

  “Depends on the version of real life you’re using,” Phin said.

  “Well, in my version, you have to be careful all the time and you get nothing for free,” Sophie said waspishly. “Especially orgasms.”

  “Then you need another version.”

  Sophie lost her breath as the silence stretched out again. Well, if he made a pass, she’d say no. She’d just turn around and look at that great face and better body, and say no. Who did he think he was, anyway? She certainly knew who she was, and she wasn’t the kind of woman who—

  “Come here,” Phin said, and Sophie felt his voice in the pit of her stomach.

  She shook her head.

  “You’ve got nothing to lose,” he told her. “Day after tomorrow you’re gone, and we’ll never see each other again. This is your one shot at being selfish. Let somebody take care of you for a change.” She swallowed as she tried to get her breath, and he said, “Come here and let me give you an orgasm you don’t have to work for.”

  The heat spread fast and low in her, and Sophie bit her lip and tried not to feel anything. Don’t be dumb, she told herself. You are not this kind of woman, this is not what you want, but her breath came faster and it was what she wanted, he was what she wanted. She opened her mouth to say no, but what came out was, “Why would you want to do that?”

  “So I can touch you,” he said. “I’ve wanted to since the first time I saw you on the porch.”

  There definitely wasn’t enough air by the river. The heat was driving it away. If she turned around and looked at him, she’d probably asphyxiate. “You didn’t even know me on the porch. You don’t know me now.”

  “That’s the beauty of it,” Phin said. “No guilt. No responsibility. Just pleasure.”

  She did turn to look at him then, and he met her eyes coolly. He had propped himself up on one elbow, but there was no tension anywhere in his body —she closed her eyes because he had such a beautiful body— no pressure there on her at all. He could have been offering her dinner and his voice would have sounded the same.

  “You wouldn’t care if I said no, would you?” Sophie said, and he looked surprised.

  “It wouldn’t ruin my evening.” He sat up slowly. “Okay, not a good idea. I apologize. Let me walk you back to the house, and we’ll forget—”

  “I’d have to be depraved to say yes to something like that,” Sophie said, and her voice sounded thick. “I’d have to be ...”

  She stopped because she couldn’t get the words out, and he watched her for a moment and then he leaned closer. “Wild,” he said, softly. “Reckless.” He was so close his lips were almost touching hers, and she knew he was going to kiss her. But then he whispered, “Satisfied,” and bit her lower lip, and the ache made her moan, and then he did kiss her, tasting her mouth as if she were candy, easing her down onto the dock as she clutched his shirt and arched into him, depraved and abandoned after all.

  Chapter Five

  Phin’s mouth was hot on hers where Sophie had been sure it would be cool, and she tasted the beer he’d been drinking and something else that she thought might be the intoxicating promise of sex without responsibility, or maybe it was just Phin. Then he pulled her hand off his shirt and put his hand on her breast, and the world swung around.

  She broke the kiss and tried to catch her breath even while she clung to him. The river gurgled away under the rough boards of the dock, and the breeze was warm, and his hand was hot on her, and when he kissed her again, this time teasing her lips with his tongue, she opened on a quick breath and let him take her mouth completely.

  This is wrong, she thought, but she couldn’t remember why anything that felt this good would be wrong unless it was just because it felt so good. He kissed his way down the curve of her neck, into the hollow of her shoulder, and found a nerve there she didn’t know she had and brought it alive as he pressed her onto the dock with the hard length of hi