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She tilted her head, her eyes brightening. “I do look good."

"So sexy.” His breath stirred the hair brushing her cheek and her full pink lips parted. Unable to resist, he covered her mouth with his, dipping his tongue between those lips to taste her. He'd missed that taste, though only a matter of hours had passed since the last time. He wanted to drown in her kiss, to bury his hands in her hair, to hold her, to turn every day and see her beside him.

His heart slammed hard against his ribs, as if to jolt him back to reality, and he broke the kiss, his head reeling.

"Okay,” she said when he lifted his head.

"Okay?” Had he asked her a question? Then he remembered. The ex-boyfriend. He'd been kissing her and she'd been thinking about another man, the one who'd devastated her. Yes, definitely jolted back to reality. Some of the pleasure of the day left him as she stepped around him toward the Frisbee game.

"Come with me."

The resentment that bubbled up surprised him. He wasn't accustomed to feeling resentment or jealousy and that, combined with his careful plans going awry, had him off balance. But he buried the annoyance that she was showing off her Spanish stud and followed her. This had been his idea after all.

He didn't know how she planned to draw Evil Steve's attention, but the man straightened, stilled, much as Veronica had. Veronica's confident stride faltered, and she gave a small wave. Evil Steve's gaze riveted to her and the jealous twinge in Vicente's chest swelled. He stopped himself from grabbing Veronica's waist and pulling her back against him, claiming her. She had to take charge here.

Evil Steve trotted over, a half smile twisting his handsome face. A bump of self-consciousness made Vicente step back and he looked at the two of them together, both blonde and beautiful. He could so easily see them, happy, in love, in lust. The last was made easier by the gleam in Evil Steve's eyes.

Vicente folded his hands into fists. Then Veronica tucked her hair behind her ear as she greeted the man who'd broken her heart. Oh, hell, no. She wasn't going to face him like that, her confidence evaporated. Vicente moved up behind her and brushed his hand across her shoulder. She glanced over and he hoped he didn't imagine the relief in her eyes.

"Steve, this is Vicente."

Vicente took that as an invitation to do what instinct told him, slide his hand around her waist and draw her back against him, feeling her quiver, and not the way he liked. He lowered his lips to her shoulder. He met the other man's eyes as he rubbed his thumb beneath Veronica's breasts, sending the message that they were intimate. Evil Steve narrowed his eyes in acknowledgement and didn't offer his hand.

"It is good to meet you. I owe you a great deal.” Vicente let his accent thicken, let his breath stir Veronica's hair. She did shiver this time, just the way he liked.

Steve didn't miss that and his gaze cut back to her. A young woman crossed the field toward them, her stride purposeful. Anger? Jealousy? Vicente couldn't tell. Against him, Veronica tensed as the woman wrapped her arms around Steve's arm and pressed against him.

"Hello, Serena,” she said, her voice low.

"Hello, Veronica. You look nice for a walk in the park."

Veronica leaned back into Vicente. He wasn't even sure she was aware of it.

"We're on a date."

"Ah."

Serena flicked her gaze to Vicente and he gave her his most charming smile.

"Have you two been together long?"

"A week,” she answered, sliding her hand over his forearm to link her fingers through his. “Since my birthday."

Vicente spread his hand over her belly. “Only a week? It feels I've known you all my life.” He kept his gaze on Steve and turned his head to kiss her jaw. She tilted her head accommodatingly. “I cannot keep my hands off her. I think about making love to her all day and all night."

"Think about, or making love?” Steve asked, the lust in his eyes darkening to anger.

"Both,” Vicente and Veronica said together, and Veronica laughed, though it was high, nervous.

"We have a picnic waiting,” Veronica added, motioning back the way they came. “I just wanted to say hi.” She turned to look into Vicente's eyes. “Shall we?"

Not releasing her, he guided her back to the picnic area. The moment they were in the small hollow, she twisted in his arms, glided her hands over his chest and around his neck, and dragged his head down to hers. Her mouth was hungry, frantic, bruising, her fingers tangling painfully in his hair.

"Veronica,” he said against her mouth.

"You brought a blanket, right?"

"Veronica.” He curved his hand around the back of her head, wanting to draw her attention, to look into her eyes, see what emotions roiled through her.

But she twisted out of his arms to find the basket, tug the blanket out of it.

"Help me. I'm shaking too bad."

He didn't ask why, didn't want to know the answer as he took the other end of the blanket and together they spread it over the ground. She pushed his chest until he sat down, then she fumbled with his slacks. He tried to still her hands but she shook him off.

"I know you want me. I felt how hard you were against me when you knew Steve was imagining the two of us fucking."

She didn't say make love, and why would she? When had they made love? He hadn't made it easy, refusing her invitation every time she offered to bring him home, never inviting her to his home. He'd planned to seduce her today, to take it slow and easy.

But now—

He drew in a breath through his teeth when she closed her hand around his cock, rougher than he usually liked her touch.

"I want to suck you,” she murmured, even as she lifted her skirt over his lap to hide him. “Later, I'm going to suck you and feel you all the way against the back of my throat. Do you want that?"

Before he could fully form the picture in his mind, she'd pushed his slacks down to the tops of his thighs, straddled his lap and brought his cock to her entrance before slamming her hips against his and bringing him all the way in, letting her head fall back, baring that long expanse of throat.

God, she was hot and tight, and so slick, her juices coating him like never before.

"Condom,” he managed.

"Pill,” she replied, pistoning her hips over his, too shallow to grip him where he wanted to feel her. “And clean, I swear, after I found out he'd been cheating on me."

His cock may be inside her, but she wasn't fucking him. The idea made him angry and he twisted his fingers in her hair, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Don't think about him when I'm inside you."

Her eyes widened. “No. No, I'm not. It's just—he made me feel so small and you make me feel so free."

Her knees gripped his hips as she levered over him, each thrust taking him full tilt, but not quick enough for him. He wanted to turn her over, to pound into her from behind, but it was full daylight, and her skirt covered them now, should anyone happen upon them. And he wanted her looking at him, knowing whose cock was inside her.

"Give me your nipple,” he said instead, and pushed aside the fabric of her dress as she lifted her breast for him. He closed his teeth around it, biting harder than he might have if they hadn't run into fucking Steve, if his own confidence in what was between them hadn't been shaken by that meeting.

Veronica moaned and arched her back, pressing her breast against his mouth, and he nipped again, then licked, circling the ruched flesh, blowing on it until she moaned again, driving her hips against his, tightening her cunt muscles around his cock.

"Make me come.” She rubbed her cheek against his and bit his earlobe. “Make me come now."

"Veronica."

She eased back with a smile. “That won't be enough. Touch me. God, touch me, Vicente."

He slipped his palm up her thigh, and her whole body tightened in anticipation. “Look at me while I touch you."

"Yes.” The word escaped on a gasp as he parted her labia, slipped his thumb between them, over the drenched swell of her clitoris. He wanted to tumble her onto her back, push up her skirt and suck on the little bud. Instead, he positioned his thumb so that her own frantic thrusts pressed his touch to her clit. He kept his gaze steady on hers as she rocked, slid, pounded in search of her pleasure, her power. The quivering in the bundle of nerves under his finger, the squeeze of her pussy around his cock, signaled that she had found it, and she pursued it with single-mindedness, the slap of her body against his echoing in the small hollow, her pants and gasps washing over him.

"Look at me, Veronica. Look at me.” And he gave her what she needed, a sweep of his touch over her clit that sent her quivers to quakes. He pumped into her the best he could with one hand occupied, and absorbed her climax even as he met his own, his cum pulsing into her.

She collapsed against his chest, her arms looped over his shoulders, her head tucked against his chin, and he drew up his knees to hold her against him. He was just about to tumble back onto the blanket with her in his arms when he caught sight of something shiny and opened his eyes fully.

A cop's badge. On the uniform of a very indignant young female cop.

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Veronica rapped lightly on Vicente's office door Monday morning, then eased it open to see if she was welcome. He looked up over the tops of his glasses and turned his chair to face away from the computer, toward her, in silent invitation.

Silent. Not a good sign.

She slipped in the rest of the way, closed the door behind her, pressing her palms against it, her pulse pounding. Yesterday had been such a disaster and for the first time, she'd dreaded coming to work.

"I'm so sorry about yesterday."

He inclined his head. “It was only a ticket."

The blush started somewhere in the vicinity of her toes. They'd been taking risks all week, but to be caught and ticketed for lewd behavior yesterday of all days, when she'd already been feeling vulnerable, had ruined everything. After the officer left, Vicente had folded up the blanket and shoved it back into the otherwise untouched basket, called Arthur, and escorted her back to the car, barely speaking. She'd been too mortified to make any effort then, but had lain awake all night thinking about it.

"You had a plan and I ruined it."

He leaned both forearms on the desk. “What makes you think I had a plan?"

She spread her hands in front of her. “The basket, and the location, and I ruined everything by having to see Steve and then freaking out and jumping you in the park."

"Is that what you did?” He sat back, eyes crinkling. “You freaked out?"

She shoved at her hair, which she'd left down today, mostly to hide behind.

He exploded out of his chair and had her wrists pinned to the door behind her before she knew what was happening. Heart thundering, her gaze shot to his, and she saw a flash in his eyes that she'd never seen before, a twist to his lips she didn't recognize, didn't understand. He looked furious but she didn't understand why, and though he had her pinned to the door, he wasn't hurting her.

"Vicente?"

"Don't do that,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

"Do what?"

"Play the little mouse."

She frowned. “What?"

He released her wrists, pushing himself away from the door with the same movement. “You do that thing with your hair and I hate seeing it, especially hate seeing it with me."

She shoved her hair back from her face with both hands now, clueless. “What are you talking about?"

"You push your hair back behind your ear when you're nervous and I hate that you're nervous with me."

"I'm not,” she said, and it was only a little lie. “You've certainly seen me let loose."

"I'm not talking about sex!” The words rang in the office and he glanced past her to the open window. “I'm talking about me, why you can't be comfortable with me."

She moved toward him in an effort to encourage him to keep his voice down. “We've only known each other a few months, only really the past week. You're sex on legs. Of course I'm nervous around you. And, God, I feel like an idiot around you after yesterday.” She lifted her hand to her hair, let it fall away before she touched it.

"What went wrong yesterday was not your fault.” His voice was calmer now. “It was just-unfortunate.” He turned to his chair, back again to face her. “Listen, let's go to lunch today. Just lunch."

Huh. Scared straight by a measly ticket. She smiled. “Just lunch? Can we do that?” she teased.

His smile quirked, deepening his dimple, and he brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “Maybe we can see."

Lunch was wonderful. Vicente sat beside her instead of across from her, and through most of the meal he touched her, her hand, her arm, her face. The sensations caused a pleasant buzz and she allowed herself, for only a moment, to imagine building the buzz to a hunger. Over the past few days, she'd forgotten how delicious that could be, the anticipation. She savored it now, the little touches of his hand on the back of hers, the way he tucked her hair behind her ear. The shivers of awareness caught her by surprise, after all the things they'd done to each other.

If she hadn't taken over yesterday at the park, was this what it would have been like, this seduction? If she'd allowed this to happen, would he have come home with her, spent the night with her in her bed, where they could take it slow, explore each other's bodies? She'd realized a few days ago they'd never seen each other completely naked.

She reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, out of her way so she could take a bite of her salad, then hesitated, not wanting him to misread the gesture. He lifted his hand to complete the gesture, smiling at her.

They talked about his family in Spain, his love for the art there that led him on his career path, his desire to stay longer once the hotel project was complete. She loved to hear him speak, to watch him speak, occasionally lapsing into a Spanish phrase or stumbling over an English word and then turning red, as if knowing two languages was something to be embarrassed about.