She caved; she smiled back. “You are the best guy,” she said. “Okay, here’s a secret. Are you good for it? A secret?”

“They’ll have to rip my tongue out,” he said.

“I’m kind of seeing someone.”

“Oh, let me guess. The painter?”

“Now why would you say that?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“I don’t know. Because no one else came to mind? But I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

“It’s casual….” Jill said self-consciously. “Unofficial. That’s why I said ‘kind of’ and never expected you to guess….”

“I won’t tell. But I notice you do get a little happy when he comes around.” Oh, happy didn’t touch it, she thought. She got crazy, liquid, wild and demanding—a complete out-of-body experience. That’s what happy did to her.

“Well, if it doesn’t work out with the painter, let me know,” Denny said, grinning at his own joke. “Seriously, Miss…Jillian, I was just being social. I wasn’t planning to propose or anything. I just thought it might be good if you got out more.” Then he smiled. “You know, do the town.”

“That’s cool. I guess I misinterpreted your intention. Because rule number one—you can’t get away with dating your boss.”

“Aw, I never thought of it that way. I admit, I didn’t expect the boss thing—I expected the age thing.”

“Well, there’s that, too,” she said. And then, because he was such a darling young man and such a hard worker, she added, “but you are mature for your age.”

His chest puffed up and his eyes twinkled. “Thank you, Miss Matlock. So are you.”

At that, she threw a fistful of manure at him.

When you’re basically a farmer and not sure when your brand-new potential lover could be coming to call, it’s hard to know when is a good time to shower off the dirt and grime. Now that the sun was setting later, Jillian liked to put in a longer day in the garden, but given the possibility that Colin could show up unannounced, she sent Denny off at five and then jumped in the shower.

She shaved above the knees, a desperate and obvious move. She put lotion on her entire body, blew her hair so it would be thick and soft, even put on a little makeup. But when she dressed it was in a comfy sweat suit—a soft, clean, powder-blue set. She slipped into the fluffy slippers. When she walked out of the maid’s quarters, there he was, sitting in her recliner, feet raised up, paging through a seed catalog. She put her hands on her h*ps and let out a sigh.

“I heard the shower and didn’t want to scare you,” he said. “But if you’re really determined to keep people like me out, there are always locks.” She wasn’t determined to keep him out! She had never been so glad to see anyone and tried not to let that show on her face. “I’m kind of surprised you came back,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me last night. I don’t think I was very nice to you.”

He tossed the catalog aside. “When a woman gives me hell for leaving her unsatisfied, I take that very seriously.” He hoisted himself out of the chair. She blushed and he chuckled. Then he said, “I can see why you like this recliner—it’s a good chair. Have you eaten?”

She shook her head.

“Would you like me to take you out for a meal?” he asked.

She ground her teeth and pinched her eyes closed. When she opened them she found him grinning at her, making fun of her. Should I feed you before I scratch your itch? His teeth, so white against that brown beard just about did her in.

“You don’t invest a lot in your women, do you, Colin?” she asked.

“Oh, Jilly, I give them everything I’ve got. Know what I’d like to do?” he asked her. “I’d like to go up on the roof and have a look at the sunset from there. You game?”

She showed him a little smile. “I love it up there. You can see forever—almost all the way to the ocean.”

“Take me up to the roof, Jilly,” he said, his voice hoarse and his eyes glowing.

The climb was three flights and she heard him moan a little behind her as they tackled the last staircase. She looked over her shoulder. “Okay?”

“I should do more of this,” he said. “My leg still gets stiff and sometimes it’s not real strong. But I’m keeping up with you.”

“Just watch your step—there’s not much I can do if you fall off the roof.” But it wasn’t a dangerous roof—it was flat, about six by twelve, surrounded by an eighteen-inch tall, decorative, wrought-iron border. If this house had been built on the coast in the 1800s, the wife of a sea captain would have climbed up to the roof to scan the horizon, watching for the sight of sails, waiting for her man to return to her.

And when Colin reached the top he snatched off his hat, ran a hand over his head and said, “God.” He turned full circle and took in the view. “This is better than I imagined.”

“You like to be up high,” she said.

“Ironically, not so much. I’m kind of afraid of heights. A lot of pilots are. We like flying—we don’t like hanging close to edges of cliffs and stuff. This is good, though. Feels secure in a way.” He dropped down, sitting on the roof. “Come here,” he said. And when she sat, he pulled her between his long legs, his knees raised, her back against his chest, his arms around her waist, and they faced in the direction of the coast, the sunset. “Now see, that’s beautiful. I’m full of good ideas.”

“I sit up here and talk to my sister on the cell phone,” she told him. “The connection is weak on the first floor of the house and outside with all the trees. But up here it’s good. And I love it up here, especially at sunrise and sunset.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I spotted you the first time from up here.”

“That’s why this spot is all cleaned off—you come up here a lot….”

“I swept it so I could sit up here. I just haven’t gotten around to bringing up any chairs.”

He pulled the hair away from her neck and put his lips there. “Hmm. Nice,” he said. One hand slipped under her shirt. He sucked on her neck and grabbed a bare breast at the same time. “Hmm,” he said. “Even nicer. So glad you didn’t get overdressed.”

She laughed lightly, then he gave her nipple a tender pinch and she gasped with pleasure. She scooted farther back against him.

“Do me a favor, Jilly,” he whispered. “Unlace those boots for me.”

“You better tell me what’s going to happen here first,” she said.

“Anything you want,” he answered hoarsely. “Everything you want.”

“On top of the house?”

His other hand went under her shirt and he held a breast in each hand. “With the setting sun?” he asked. “Nice and easy, nice and slow, nice and out of your mind?”

“That’s a little crazy!”

“We’re not going to fall off—there’s a little fence. And I get the impression you are a little crazy.” He kissed her neck again. “You’re not any more tame than I am.”

“But I never knew it,” she said. “I thought I was on the very conservative side.” Then she groaned and reached for his boot laces, untying and loosening them. He used the toe of one to push off the heel of the other and within just a second, both boots were sitting behind him, out of the way. He reached a hand behind his neck, gathered up his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. “I’m scarred, Jilly. You should see it before it takes you by surprise and scares you. It might turn you off.”

She hated to have his hands off her breasts, but she pushed them aside and turned toward him. Kneeling in front of him between his legs, sitting back on her heels, she saw the scarring. It wasn’t terrible but it was obvious. The texture of his skin was rough and discolored, kind of wavy. It ran down his neck, over his shoulder, down his upper arm, upper back, upper chest. There were also a couple of tattoos—a decorative armband on his left arm, some Asian lettering on the right side of his chest. The scarring stopped right at the lettering. She ran her small hand over the skin, very lightly, very carefully.

“This isn’t scary, Colin. Does it still hurt?”

He shook his head. “My leg sometimes gets stiff and my elbow drives me nuts, but I get better every day. I’m healed enough to make love.” And then he slipped his hand around her neck and pulled her mouth onto his, moving over her lips slowly, deeply, with heat and passion. While he had her in that lip-lock, he slipped a hand down the back of her sweatpants, rubbing her butt softly, sweetly. Next he pulled on her shirt, lifting it over her head and leaving her bare to his gaze. He sucked in his breath. “You are gorgeous.”

She laughed at him. “I think I’m probably average.”

He leaned toward her and tongued a nipple. “Hmm, not in my book. You stop my breath, you’re that beautiful.” He still had that shirt in his grip and shook it out. He reached around her and spread it on the roof behind her, easing her back onto it. Then he leaned over her and gave her br**sts a lot more serious attention. “Nothing, nothing average here. You taste better than I remembered. God, I want you so bad.”

“And this time, we’re ready?” she asked a little breathlessly.

“And able,” he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small, square, foil packet. He put it in her hand. “And you’re in charge of safety.”

“Safety first,” she said, accepting the condom.

He spread her legs and lowered himself onto her, his mouth on her mouth, rubbing his erection against her parted legs. He moaned. “Good God…I hope you’re in a hurry.”

She reached a hand down between their bodies, just running it over the bulge in his pants, bringing another low moan from him.

“Sweetheart,” he said in a strained whisper. “I really need you out of these pants.” He was pulling on her sweats as he spoke. “Really. And really quick.”

“It’s only going to make it harder. Faster.”

“Baby, it can’t get much harder. And we’re going to have to go a little faster. I’m on a hair trigger here. You seriously turn me on.”

She didn’t resist him; she let him pull down the sweats, pull them over her knees and away. He flung them behind him and looked at her in the dusk, the sight of her na**d making his breathing quicken. “Man,” he said, one big hand covering her crotch in a soft caress, one of his fingers sliding into the soft, moist folds. “Good. Oh, so good…”

She reached for the snap on his pants, found the zipper and drew it down, slipped her hand in for the briefest touch, but then his fingers on her clitoris caused her to almost lose her mind and she lay back down, arching up to him.

He covered her with his body and devoured her mouth in a consuming kiss, roving the inside of her mouth with his tongue, playing with her tongue, and then he licked a path down her body, laving her br**sts with his mouth, kissing his way down over her belly, spreading her legs and diving into her core with his tongue, moaning his pleasure all the time. She held on to his head, lifted her h*ps against his face, making her own desperate sounds while he tortured her with exquisite kisses.

And then he stopped, lifting his mouth up to hers. “You taste wonderful. I could get drunk on you. I want to stay down there for hours.”

“Umm,” she moaned. “Okay,” she said weakly.

He chuckled and pulled that foil packet from her hand. “You’re not going to be in charge of safety anymore—you’re not paying attention.”

“I am sooo paying attention,” she whispered, but her eyes never opened and she was reaching for him. “Oh God.” She sighed. “Hurry.”

“Hurry is what we’re all about right now,” he said. “Jilly, I have to be inside you. Tell me you’re ready….”

And then she felt him, holding himself above her with the strength of only one arm, gently probing in her very center.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked in a whisper.

“Okay…” She reached her hand down to touch him, to wrap around him, to lead him. And when she realized his length and girth, she sighed hungrily. She might’ve gasped. This was more man than she’d ever had in her hand, in her body.

“You worried about it?” he asked her.

“Worried,” she whispered. “And dying for it.”

“We’ll try to go slow and easy,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”

He gave her clitoris a few more strokes while he covered her mouth with his and he entered her in a long, slow, easy movement, burying himself deep within her, holding there while she got used to him. Then he started to move, slowly at first, but as she bent her knees and pushed against him he moved faster, harder, deeper. He left her mouth to suck on a nipple and that was the magic—she threw her head back, dug her heels in to lunge her pelvis against him, cried out and he felt it, felt her entire pelvis begin to tighten, shudder, vibrate, drenching him in a hot liquid.

“Oh, honey,” he whispered against her lips. “That’s it, that’s it….”

He held her tight against him with one big hand on her little rump, hanging on there as long as he could and when he sensed she was complete, he pounded into her in several hard, long strokes, letting himself go. To his shock and awe, she started to come again and the pleasure that gave him blew him to the next universe. He wanted to say the perfect thing about that, about how free and beautiful she was, but instead all he got out was a series of moans, grunts and grateful, unintelligible sounds. At the end of it all, breathless, he said, “My God. Sweet. Sweet!”