I crossed my arms over my chest, too. The battle lines were drawn. "I thought you liked to be daring. We're boyfriend and girlfriend now. We can get naked together. It's acceptable."

"No."

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I left it at home."

I gave him a pointed once-over, even took a step closer. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," I clicked under my tongue. "I think you're lying."

He continued to back away. This trip had been his idea. I hadn't wanted to come, but I think I'd successfully managed to switch our viewpoints. "Stop it, Naomi."

"Are you afraid you can't stick to your principles?" I reached out and traced a fingertip over his erection. "If you can't, I promise I'll still respect you in the morning."

The hard, thick length of him jerked at my first touch. He squeezed his eyes closed. "You're not playing fair."

"I want you to touch me," I said. "I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

"What happened to the woman who was determined not to sleep with me?" The lines around his mouth were taut, and he stretched his shirt collar with two fingers.

Daring, bold, I pressed myself against him fully. Chest to chest. Hardness to softness. "Please go swimming with me, Royce. I'm dying to get into that water, to feel it lap against me. It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before."

"That was different," he said, streams of sweat now dripping from his temples.

I placed a featherlight kiss on his chin. "Different how?"

"It just was."

My teeth ground together, and I released him, stepping backward. At this rate, the stubborn man might be able to refuse me all night. I had to try a different angle. "If you don't want to swim, why don't we play a game?"

His shoulders relaxed, and he even managed a half smile. "What do you want to play?"

"How about strip poker?"

Losing all traces of that smile, he paled and shook his head. "No."

"What about twenty questions?"

I could see the wheels turning in his head as he calculated just how sexual that game could be. Obviously (and foolishly) he decided I couldn't do much damage, because he nodded and said, "All right. Twenty questions."

Grinning internally, I led him to the only sofa in the cabin. A black leather lounge made for pleasure. He claimed one side, I claimed the other.

"Why don't I go first?" I suggested.

He eased back and nodded.

I crawled my hands toward him and leaned over until I was merely a breath away. "If I take off all your clothes, will you let me lick you all over?" I whispered next to his ear.

He almost jumped off the couch. "No!"

Oh, this game was going to be fun. I smothered my smile. "It's your turn. Ask me a question. Anything you want."

A long while passed before he spoke, and he spent every second of that time studying me, looking for…something. "How long were you and your ex-husband together?"

"Which one?"

"You were married more than once?" he shouted.

I laughed. "No, I just wanted you to ask and waste another question. I was married only once, and that was for six hellish years."

"Why did you-"

"No, no, no." My words came out in a singsong taunt. "Your turn is over. I refuse to answer another question until you answer another one of mine." Nuzzling my cheek against his shoulder, I said, "What's your naughtiest fantasy?"

"Making love to my wife."

That wiped away my grin as he intended, I'm sure. The jerk.

"Have you dated anyone since you've been single?" he asked.

"Only you. It's hot in here, don't you think?" I asked next, removing my shirt and revealing my lacy pink bra.

"Is that your question?"

"Maybe." I tossed the material aside.

Shifting in his seat, Royce's eyes roved over my clothes. Or lack thereof. "No, it's not hot, it's cold. And is that strip of cloth supposed to be a bra or a Band-Aid? The fabric is so sheer I can see your nipples," he accused.

"I know."

"Enough games," he all but shouted. "I need something to drink."

He didn't wait for my reply. He just got up, strode to the bar and downed two shots of Scotch in quick succession. I loved the way his hands shook, as if he teetered on the edge of losing control. Made me feel powerful and seductive and all woman. Something I'd only ever felt with him.

When he returned to the couch, easing beside me, I said, "You finally up for that swim?"

His gaze raked over me again and he groaned. He tunneled a stiff hand through his hair. "Give me five minutes to change," he said. Shaking his head, he stormed into the bedroom. The door slammed behind him with a resounding thud.

I laughed, muttering, "Into what?"

Not feeling an ounce of shyness, I stripped down to the skin and entered the steamy, relaxing water. Another chuckle escaped when I imagined Royce in the other room, searching frantically for some type of swim trunks.

My grin disappeared the moment he opened the door, however. He had a white cotton towel draped around his waist. It was more provocative than if he'd emerged naked. Strength emanated from him. Strength and pure sex appeal.

His gaze met mine, making sure I was watching. And then he dropped his towel.

My breath snagged in my throat. Oh, my, but this man wanted me. He was rock hard, huge and as beautiful as a sculpture. "You look tense. Why don't you come over here and I'll massage your back?" I motioned to the water directly in front of me.

"No thanks." Slowly, so I got a view of every movement, he entered the water, the clear liquid caressing his skin the same way I wanted to. I guess he'd decided to play the game as unethically as I was. "I'm fine where I am." With that, he relaxed against the rim of the tub, his eyes closed, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

I frowned. "Then I'll just sit here all alone, thinking of things we could be doing. If you hear me moan, don't think anything of it. I'm probably in the throes of unbridled-"

He cursed and his eyelids popped open. "Damn it, Naomi. You win. I lose. Come here."

Well, well, well. My eyes widened, a thrill of anticipation and victory thrumming through me. I hadn't expected him to cave so early.

Obviously I didn't move fast enough for him because he clasped me by the shoulders and jerked me into his body, turning me so that my back rested against his chest. His fingers glided over the sides of my breasts, plumping, then moved over my nipples, rolling. I bit my bottom lip.

He licked a drop of water from my shoulder, and I shivered with heat that had nothing to do with the water. "You were right," he said softly. "I can't fight you, knowing you're naked. Knowing you want me."

My head lolled back, onto his shoulder. I tingled. I ached. I desired.

I remembered.

He spun me around, water sloshing over the rim of the tub. "I need to hear you say this isn't just sex. I need to hear you say this is making love."

"I-no." I shook my head. "I can't say that." The more I admitted, the more eager he would be to convince me to marry him. I knew it, felt it.

A harsh scowl tightened his lips. "You're too stubborn for your own good, you know that?"

"So are you."

"If we're together tonight, I won't promise not to ask you to marry me," he warned.

I shook my head again, and this time my hair rippled over his shoulders and stomach. "My answer won't change."

"So you say."

"So I know."

"You changed your mind about being my girlfriend."

"Yeah, well…" I didn't know what to say to that. He was right.

He kissed my jaw. Our chests rubbed together, slick from the steam and water. One of his hands trailed down my stomach. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and desire, and I'm positive they were a mirror of mine.

Using our positions to his advantage, he hoisted me onto his lap, my legs straddling his waist.