As if her thoughts of him had conjured him up out of thin air, there was a sharp knock on the door, and Drake looked in.

She put her brush in a solvent can and wiped her hands on a cloth, realizing that the palms had turned damp the instant she saw him. “Hi,” she said softly.

He didn’t answer, just walked to her. No, that wasn’t quite true. He didn’t walk, he flowed.

Grace, strength, power, it was all there in the strides. And it was totally subconscious. She had no doubt that when he wanted to intimidate, he’d be a master at it. His body—his entire being—exuded power and an ability to erupt into devastating violence at a split second’s notice.

But he wasn’t trying to intimidate her in any way. His walk to her was simply the walk of a powerful animal in its prime, moving toward something it wanted.

Her.

It was right there in the gleam in his dark eyes that never once looked away from her face, in his ground-eating strides, the intensity that surrounded him like an almost visible aura. He was even smiling as he took her elbow and sat them down on the couch in front of the fireplace, lifting her hand to his mouth. He meant the smile, but it somehow looked unnatural on that hard, somber face.

He kissed the palm of her hand and curled her hand in his fist. “I have some things to see to, but I don’t want to stay away from you too long. Will you wait here for me? I love the thought of coming back to you here, right here, surrounded by your paintings. As a matter of fact, I thought maybe we could eat lunch in here.”

As if she could refuse him anything. That strength wasn’t just physical. His will was like a force field around him, almost shimmering in its intensity.

“Yes. Yes, of course I’ll wait here for you, if it pleases you.” She reached out with her hand to touch his wounded shoulder. “You’re not overdoing it? You shouldn’t be resting?”

Just like that, like throwing a switch, his aura changed. Became pure, animal sex. Those dark eyes gleamed, thin nostrils flared. She felt it on her skin, as if an electrical charge had washed over it, striking sparks where he touched her.

He leaned forward to kiss her on the neck, lips warm, breath hot. As he spoke, she could feel his lips moving. “My beautiful Grace. I am fine. Please do not worry about me. I do not need rest, I need something else. When I come back, I’ll show you exactly what I need. In the meantime…” He nipped her earlobe and a shudder went through her body. He took her hand and lay it over his groin.

My God. He was huge, so hot the warmth punched through even the tough fabric of his jeans. He slowly licked her ear and her breath came out in a shaky rush.

This must be life’s payback for having been so indifferent to sex all her life. She’d been like a locked door and it turned out that only this one man had the key. His mouth on her neck gave her goose bumps, made her back arch, giving him access to more of her.

As he licked her, dragging his teeth over her skin, her hand tightened around his penis. She wasn’t the only one affected by his mouth on her. Impossibly, as she ran her hand up the amazing length, his penis moved, thickened, lengthened even more. When she cupped her hand around the bulbous tip, discernible even through the jeans, his breath came out in an explosive rush of air that ruffled her hair.

“God,” he breathed. His big hand covered hers, trapping her hand over him. It wasn’t actually trapped, though. Her hand was more than happy to stay right where it was, feeling him moving beneath her. It was like touching a primeval source of energy. Strength, power, male potency. Her hand burned as the surges of blood rushed through him.

Each jump in her hand was met with a clenching of her internal muscles, an elaborate sexual dance she did only with Drake.

He licked her ear again, breathing slow and hard. His deep voice was low. “I need to go right now, or I won’t go at all. I wouldn’t leave you if I didn’t have to. But when I come back, I want you to remember what you’re feeling now.”

As if she could forget.

“Okay,” she whispered. She’d closed her eyes to concentrate on the feel of him in her hand and on what was happening with her body. She opened her hand and felt his lift from hers. He moved so silently she heard nothing. It was only when she heard the big door close that she realized he was gone.

Grace tipped her head back, eyes still closed, and simply concentrated on her senses. She’d ended up following Drake’s order and hadn’t put on any of the amazing collection of underwear she’d found in those boxes. The clothes she’d found had been exquisite, exactly the kinds of clothes she would buy for herself if she had the money.

The underwear, on the other hand…Well, wow. She’d never have had the nerve to buy what she found in those fancy boxes.

Bought on a tight budget, her underwear was plain, comfortable, white, stretchy cotton. A world away from the frothy silk and lace confections she’d found, incredibly sexy and revealing.

She’d pulled the lingerie from the boxes like Gatsby pulling out his shirts. No plain white cotton in these elaborately wrapped packages. None. Instead, all the colors of the rainbow.

Pink, lilac, pale yellow, taupe, teal, mint…the colors were simply exquisite. Every frothy piece looked delectable enough to eat. Bras, panties, teddies, silk-jersey tank tops, camis and tap pants and tee shirts and…slips! Whoever had done the shopping had old-fashioned tastes, because there were slips included. Grace had never worn a slip in her life. Her mother had never worn a slip. Slips were things people wore long ago, in movies. While carrying long cigarette holders and exchanging witty dialogue with someone like Cary Grant in a huge white bedroom.

She was tempted, though, fingering the fine satin slips with the lace bodices.

In the end, while choosing between a teal La Perla bra and panty set with lace insets and a gorgeous satin cami and tap pant duo, his words had came back to her. Don’t wear underwear. The silk, satin and lace just slipped from her nerveless fingers as she remembered him touching her. Remembered the feel of his hands on her. And suddenly another layer of clothes felt stifling and constricting.

So she’d gone without these past days. Her nakedness wasn’t visible of course, under the cashmere sweaters and soft wool pants. But she knew, and so did he. She felt everything so keenly against her skin.

Grace concentrated on what her senses were telling her, right now.

The softness of the sweater was a caress against her breasts. She was slightly wet between her thighs from fondling Drake. Without panties on, the wetness was as tangible against the sensitive skin as a kiss of cool air.

It was hard to feel the danger lurking just outside, because against all the odds, right now she felt so very safe and warm. Not just because she was in a fortress guarded by a small army of men, but also because there was…Drake.

He was the reason she was in danger. He was the reason no one would harm her.

Sitting on that magnificently comfortable couch, head tilted back, eyes closed, listening to the roar and crackle of the fire, Grace pondered her situation.

It had been clear to her from childhood that there were forces loose in the world much more powerful than she was. Forces that were indifferent at best, and at times even hostile to her. She wasn’t a child anymore, and could to a certain degree defend herself, or at least take precautions. But by the same token she also knew she was not a powerful person, able to cut a swathe through life.

All she had wanted was to be left alone to paint; she asked for nothing more. And if that meant a life that was a little lonely, so be it. It was all she had asked for.

Even that, now, was taken away from her, in that same whirlwind that had blown her into Drake’s arms. She wasn’t powerful but he certainly was, in every way there was.