When he closed the door behind Tim, Tatiana told Ian, “It feels like we’ve landed in another world, another reality, doesn’t it?” She looked out one of the barn windows. “Even outside we can’t see more than a few feet in front of us. It’s as if the storm has blocked out every—” The chatter of her teeth suddenly made it hard to finish the word. “Everything.”

Ian lifted a hand to her cheek. “You’re frozen solid.”

Suddenly, she realized just how true that was, especially when he’d miraculously managed to stay so warm. “I’m sure I just need to get out of these clothes.” But it was darn near impossible to get them off when she couldn’t get her numb fingers to work right.

The next thing she knew, Ian had her in his strong arms and he was carrying her over to the bathroom. He turned the shower on, and when steam rose, he took them both under the spray, then put her back on her feet.

“I nearly got you killed in my plane. I won’t let you get sick, too.”

“You’re the one who got me through the flight in one piece,” she protested. “I would have lost it if you weren’t there, telling me about all the fun you used to have with your brothers and Mia.” The warmth of the shower was heaven sent, but Ian’s warmth affected her even more. And though he was focused on taking care of her, the sensuality and attraction that had always sizzled between them was quickly rising up as he began to strip her icy clothes off. “It feels so good, being here with you.”

His hands stilled as his inner conflict showed in both his expression.

Ian was constantly trying to take care of everyone. His family, with the trusts he’d set up for them. His pilots, both by asking after Linda’s health and then by making sure they would be comfortable during their unexpected stay in town. Everyone involved with the Seattle Family Foundation.

And now her.

He thought he needed to pull away to “protect” her, and the truth was that she still didn’t know how to convince him otherwise. All she knew was that being here with him now, in their own private world, wonderfully captive in a storm, felt like the best thing that had ever happened to her. Especially when she thought about the way he’d opened up to her on the plane when they were running through her script together.

He’d told her about the safety nets he’d put into place so that his family would never feel vulnerable or scared again, and she’d known with absolute certainty that Ian would do anything in his power to keep from feeling that way himself. That he’d push away anything—or anyone—that made him feel vulnerable.

Wishing that she could find a way to convince him that he was safe with her, she said, “For as long as we’re here, for as long as the real world is beyond the storm, let’s pretend this is all there is. Just you and me.”

She was watching his face so carefully that she could see just how much her suggestion tempted him. Still, he tried to caution them both, a protector to his core. “The storm won’t last forever.”

“I know. But it’s here now. And so are we.”

She wanted desperately to kiss him. But she’d been the one who had made the first move on the night of her Oscar nomination, and had been the one to kiss him again on Friday night at the fundraiser.

This time, he had to be the one to decide.

His gaze was so dark, his expression so conflicted…before he uttered one low, heartfelt curse, then lowered his mouth to hers.

Ian’s mouth was so warm, felt so good, tasted so delicious, that Tatiana could have kissed him like that forever if he hadn’t needed to lift her sweater over her shoulders. She was yanking his shirt from his pants when he abruptly pulled back.

“Damn it, we can’t do this.”

“The real world doesn’t count here, remember?” She couldn’t keep the need, or the frustration, from her voice.

“I don’t have any condoms. There’s been no one but you since the wedding months ago, but—”

“I’m on the Pill.” She had already finished stripping away his shirt as she told him, “I’ve been on it for years to deal with bad cramps.”

He quickly ripped off the rest of her clothes and lifted her up so that her back was pressed flat against the tiles. His hands were everywhere at once—her breasts, her hips, then back up to thread through her hair so that he could take her mouth at exactly the right angle to drive them both to the brink of insanity.

“Every single second since Friday,” he said as he found her wet and hot and ready for him, the words resounding raw and deep in the small tiled shower, “I’ve wanted you again. You’re all I’ve been able to think about, Tatiana.”

“It’s been the same for me.”

And, oh God, when he entered her skin-to-skin, even bigger, even harder than she remembered, it felt so good that she moaned and arched her back and neck, heedless of the hard tile behind her head until she knocked into it.

He cradled her head in his hands. “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect. Just please,” she begged, barely noticing the slight throb in the back of her skull, “please don’t stop. You feel so good inside me like this, with nothing between us.”

The next thing she knew he was turning off the water and carrying her from the shower to the bed. She clung tightly to him, loving the way he moved inside of her as he took them across the room.

They dropped onto the covers in a wet tangle of limbs and their lovemaking was a perfect blur of desire and desperation as he stroked, aroused, possessed every last inch of her. She loved it, loved when he lost control, loved knowing she could do this to him when he was so utterly controlled in every other moment, even when it had looked like their plane might go down.

She knew she’d been all he’d thought of then, just as she knew she was all he thought of now. He was utterly focused on her pleasure, and her happiness, as he sent her tumbling heart-first into a climax that already felt so good she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

And when he stared into her eyes as he finally let himself go, too, she knew with perfect certainty that he’d truly never meant to hurt her. Because everything he’d ever done, even pushing her away, had been because he cared.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Can I ask you something?”

Ian’s lungs still burned with the need for oxygen. The need to take Tatiana, to possess her and make her his, had become such an obsession that desire obliterated common sense every time he touched her. Hell, so much as looking at her or catching her scent in a room made him go a little crazier.

Now, in the aftermath of crazy, they were tangled in each other on the small bed, with the quilt bunched beneath their damp, naked bodies. He growled, “If you’re going to ask me why...”

She laughed, her breasts bouncing against him as she said, “I’m pretty sure I already know why this time. Although—” She gave a little nip at his shoulder. “—I may ask you later, anyway, just to see you get all riled up. But only because I never quite know what you’re going to do or how you’re going to take me when you’re like that.” She made a little hum of pleasure. “A little rough. A little angry. A little fast. A little hard.”

Even as a fresh hit of need nailed him, guilt rose. “Tatiana, I shouldn’t—”

“I’ve told you again and again, you should. In fact, speaking of all the things the two of us should be doing together...” She purposely left him hanging there for a few seconds, not because she was an actress who knew how to play her audience, but because she was a beautiful woman with an innate sense of just how to make her lover crave her more with every second she spent in his arms. “I know I don’t have the sexual experience you do—”

“Jesus, if you knew anything more we might never make it outside a bedroom ever again.”

Did she have any idea how sensual her answering smile was? Clearly, she liked the idea of being locked in a bedroom with him forever. And because something told him her question would likely do more than just rile him up, he decided to do whatever he could to get her to forget all about it. But though she let him roll her beneath him for yet another heated kiss that he couldn’t resist taking from her, when he made himself pull back for a moment to let her breathe, he could see that she hadn’t forgotten what she wanted to say. His beautiful, brilliant girl never did.

His?

No, she wasn’t really his, he reminded himself silently, and brutally. But even as he thought it, his hands tightened on her.

Only here, in this strange island world so completely separated from reality, could he let himself possess her.

Only for as long as the rain and wind drove the leaves from the trees outside, and the rough waves of salt water carved out chunks of the cliffs, could he reach for her and know that she was right there reaching for him, too.

Only for this rare moment in time when he was completely cut off from phones and computers could he devote himself entirely to the beautiful woman beside him.

The storm outside, he knew, would end too soon. But the storm inside of him would rage, crashing between desperate desire and the knowledge that what he had to offer could never be enough for Tatiana.

Ian came out of his swirling thoughts to find Tatiana’s eyes, clear and sparkling, on his. How many of his thoughts had she read? Too many, he was sure. Enough that sometimes he might as well just speak every thought he had out loud.

“Go ahead, ask your question,” he said, in a voice rough with desire—and affection for her that grew from moment to moment.

“Well, I was hoping while we’re here and real life is on hold for a little while, maybe you could teach me…” This time she didn’t draw out her words to tantalize. She did it because she was clearly embarrassed. Her skin was flushed as she finally said, “Things.”

“Things?” The word came out strangled from his throat. “You want me to teach you things?”

“Yes.” Such innocence, even as she made the sexiest request on the planet. “Sexy things.” There was another pause, another moment of obvious bashfulness, before she lifted her bright eyes back to meet his. “Please.”

It was the sweet and simple please that got him. That, and the fact that for all his legendary self-control, in this small room, on this island, in the throes of this storm, he was lost.

Completely, utterly lost in Tatiana. Even when he knew better than to drag either of them deeper...

She watched him, clearly confused as he got up off the bed and walked naked—and aroused—across the room to pick up one of the red-painted wooden chairs. Deliberately, he set the chair at the foot of the bed and sat down on it.

“Touch yourself.”

He could see a thousand new questions pop up in her eyes, but she finally settled on only one. “Is this your way of saying yes?”

He didn’t smile, though he wanted to. He didn’t reassure her, either. She’d said just minutes earlier that it turned her on when he was a little rough. A little hard. Lord knew his erection was as hard as it had ever been from nothing more than looking at her sitting sweet and naked on the crumpled quilt.

“Touch. Yourself.” Each word was spoken as a command, because for all her strength, for all her determination, it was obvious to him that she also loved giving herself up to his dominance in the bedroom. Not every time, perhaps, but definitely tonight.

While he taught her things.

Jesus, he thought as his erection pulsed hard between his thighs, he wanted to pounce on her, wanted to take her again and again until he’d figured out a way to burn through his fierce need for her. Instead, he forced himself to remain on the chair as she blushed and began to slowly slide her hand on top of her stomach.

She bit her lip, the flush now moving from her cheeks to spread over her breasts. “Do you want me to touch my breasts? Or...between my legs?”