He was just a little bit rough, more than a little bit urgent, and Riley found the combination impossible to resist.

So she didn't try.

And she didn't try to pretend a response to him, because she didn't have to. Whatever else he was or might be, Ash Prescott was a skilled lover, and her body remembered his touch even if her mind didn't.

She'd left a lamp burning low on her nightstand but kept her eyes closed because the only senses that mattered were the ones he was bringing to life. For the first time since waking up in the afternoon, there was no veil, no distance-and no questions.

Not about this.

Their clothing seemed to just vanish; set on her feet by the bed, Riley almost instantly felt the erotic shock of flesh on flesh, and then the cool smoothness of the sheet beneath her. She had no idea which of them had thrown back the covers and didn't care.

His body was amazingly hard, with the packed muscle of a man who was very athletic, genetically blessed, or both. His skin was smooth and hot beneath her fingers, and the thick, springy hair on his chest teased her breasts with a raw sensuality that only intensified the heat building inside her.

His mouth on hers fed that fire, as hard as his body, as urgently demanding as the hands stroking her flesh. That mouth-to-mouth connection was more than a kiss, more like a melding, a merging, and she had the dim understanding that this was why she had tumbled into bed with a relative stranger.

Because he wasn't. Because they weren't.

Their bodies strained together to be closer than they were, closer than they could be, and she heard herself make a wild sound that would have astonished her if she'd been able to think about it. But there was no time to think or wonder about anything, there was only pleasure that built to an incredible peak and a stunning wave of emotion she'd never known before and couldn't begin to define.

When it was over, Riley felt both exhausted and curiously shaken. What had just happened? It was more than sex, or at least more than she knew sex to be. And she wasn't at all sure she'd be able to pretend otherwise. But she gave it her best shot.

When he pushed himself up on an elbow beside her, she finally opened her eyes and murmured, "Wow. Good thing I had that second dessert."

Ash laughed. "You never say the expected, do you?"

"Probably not. Is that a bad thing?"

"Not as far as I'm concerned." He reached across her to draw the sheet over their cooling bodies, pausing to briefly nuzzle the curve of her neck.

Riley felt her eyes starting to cross at that pleasurable caress, and hastily closed them. "Mmmm."

"If you go to sleep, I'll just wake you up," he warned.

Her laugh ended on a sigh. "You have only yourself to blame."

"Open your eyes and talk to me."

"I thought men always wanted to sleep after," she complained mildly, opening her eyes.

He was smiling faintly. "You should know by now not to lump me in with a group. Neither one of us runs with the crowd."

Now, what in the world does he mean by that?

She couldn't ask, of course.

Instead, she said, "Well, you should know by now that I either sleep after-or grab a snack. Fuel, remember? The tank's empty here, pal."

"Okay. I promise you a midnight omelet. How's that?"

Riley turned her head to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. "That's more than an hour away." She allowed her voice to fade pathetically. "I may not make it."

Before she could turn her head back, she felt his fingers at the nape of her neck.

"What's this?"

It was a sore spot; she realized that when he touched it.

"What does it look like?" she asked, holding on to the sleepy murmur even though she was, now, wide-awake.

He rubbed very gently. "A burn, maybe?"

Just at the hairline at the base of her skull, an area normally covered by her short hair. An area she hadn't checked visually when she examined herself that afternoon. And a sore spot that would have been both hidden by her hair and masked by the headache she'd had almost continually since waking.

Chapter 7

Riley fought not to react in any way he'd notice, fought not to reveal the sudden questions and fears tumbling through her mind.

"I'm all thumbs with a curling iron," she said casually. "It happens so often I forget about it, usually."

"Have you considered maybe not using a curling iron?" Ash inquired dryly.

She turned her head back and met his gaze, smiling. "From time to time. But it's a girl thing, you see, and I clung to those when I was in the army."

"What, you were afraid of ending up butch?"

"That is not a politically correct term. And-yes."

Ash grinned at her. "Not a chance in hell. You are utterly and completely female, my love, from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. It practically oozes from your pores."

Riley ignored the lurch inside her at the unexpected endearment and pulled on a considering frown. "I'm not at all sure that's a compliment."

"It's disarming, that's what it is. Dandy camouflage for the razor-sharp mind behind those big eyes."

"Mmm. But you weren't disarmed, huh?"

"I wasn't fooled," Ash said. "Not like Jake was."

A little surprised and very curious, she said, "You think he was fooled?"

"I think he's badly underestimating you. And I think if he hadn't done that from the moment he met you, he might be here with you instead of me."

Wry now, she said, "I really stepped in something between you two, didn't I?"

"Maybe." He shifted position to lie more fully on his side, his head propped up on one hand and the other resting warmly on her stomach. "But it had to happen eventually."

"Why?"

Ash's shoulders moved in a faint shrug. "Because letting Jake have what he wanted most of our lives was easy for me. Until what he wanted was something I wanted more."

Riley thought about that. "Me?" she half-guessed.

"If you have to ask," he said, "you haven't been paying attention."

She managed a laugh. "Oh, I was paying attention. Just trying not to feel like a trophy between two jocks."

"You know better than that." He leaned over to kiss her, the caress a lingering one. "At least as far as I'm concerned. This is not about Jake. This is about you and me."

Riley was trying her best to think straight despite the lips playing with hers. "Mmm. But if all Jake sees…is that trophy…he might still want it."

"Then he'll have to learn a lesson I probably should have taught him when we were kids." Ash pushed the sheet back down so his seeking hand could find bare flesh. "He doesn't always get what he wants."

Riley had thought she was completely exhausted, but her body was coming to life, and as her arms lifted to wrap themselves around his neck, she decided that she just might have the strength for this…

As it turned out, she also had the strength left for a shower with Ash afterward, but by then her energy reserves were seriously low and they both knew it.

"I'll go get started on those omelets," he said, knotting a towel around his lean waist.

"I'll get my hair dry and meet you in the kitchen. Sorry to be so high-maintenance," she said.

He tipped her chin up with a finger to kiss her. "You aren't," he said, and left her alone in the steamy bathroom.

Riley finished wrapping herself in a towel, then held her hands out and watched them shake for a moment. Damn. Between the mental and emotional demands of a Swiss cheese memory and the physical demands of a relationship with Ash, she was using up energy at a rate far faster than normal even for her.

Something was badly wrong, and she knew it.