Officer, Surgeon...Gentleman!

His gaze tangled with hers, cocooning her in blue warmth. “Don’t let the outside fool you. I’m so wound up on the inside I could snap in two.”

Figuring he was referring to sexual tension, she grimaced, took a deep breath and told him the truth. “I really am sorry I fell asleep. I wanted to make love to you, Cole.”

He studied her a moment then shook his head, surprising her yet again. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m not sorry. We needed today, just you and me, spending time together, remembering what was good between us.”

Yeah, maybe they had. But inebriated sex would have been easy to explain to her conscience. Tonight, when they made love, she wouldn’t have anything to blame except the attraction between them. A terrifying thought.

Time for another mental shove. Clearing her thoughts, she lifted her chin in a play of deviance. “I’ll only have a massage if you have one, too.”

He laughed. “You’re going to twist my arm?”

“If that’s what it takes,” she insisted, but knew the smile on her face disarmed her threat.

“Fine,” he agreed, sounding more amused than anything. “We’ll get a massage together.”

He turned back to the woman who worked there, told her what he wanted, and she nodded her dark head.

A massage together? As in both of them on the table? How did that work? Instantly visions of her naked body lying on top of his flashed through her mind. Um, yes, that could work very nicely.

Cole took her hand and led her through a maze of exotic scents and colors, following the Malaysian woman into a room just for the two of them.

Twenty minutes later, Amelia was in heaven.

She lay on a massage table of sorts, a masseur rubbing and kneading every muscle in her body.

“I heard that moan,” Cole said from opposite her, the head of his table a mere meter from hers with them lying in a straight line, feet outward. “You like?”

“I like,” she admitted, wondering at herself for lying naked except the sheet covering her in a room with Cole also naked except for the thin cotton sheet covering his delectable backside. Not that she’d looked. Much. A young girl worked on him, sculpting his muscles between her nimble fingers in an almost exact mimic of how the young Chinese man rubbed Amelia.

They lay in silence except for the mood music playing in the background and the sounds of their breathing. Sweet incense burned in the four corners of the room. Peace, tranquility, happiness and love, they’d been told.

“I can’t believe we’ve been naked in the same room twice and haven’t slept together yet.”

“I’ll just bet.” Amelia laughed at Cole’s bemused comment. “Must be some kind of record for a man like you.”

“Must be,” he agreed, but only halfheartedly, his words slightly muffled from where he lay facedown on his massage table. “I’m not as active as you think.”

Amelia laughed. “Don’t tell me that, Cole. I heard about all the nurses you went through after you and Clara broke up.”

“I was trying to forget.” His admission was low, self-derisive, as if he had lots of regrets.

“My sister?”

His answer came out clearer than before. “You.”

She lifted her head, saw that his was also raised, looking at her. She stared straight into his eyes, was pretty sure she was drowning in their blue depths. “Did it work?”

After a few moments, he said, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

There was no justification for the satisfaction that filled her. None whatsoever. But satisfaction did fill her.

Cole had sought her because he’d wanted her. Other women hadn’t done, hadn’t satisfied him. Would she be able to?

“I’m not as experienced as you,” she admitted. Lowering her head back into the face rest, she wondered how they could carry on a conversation with the two people giving them massages listening in. Maybe it was the anonymity of being halfway around the world. Maybe it was because the masseuse and masseur were foreign and it was easy to pretend they couldn’t understand English, despite knowing that most everyone in Singapore spoke the language.

“I’m not some Casanova.” He sounded a little irked. “I’ve been selective about who I’ve become involved with. There haven’t been that many women in my life.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to give herself over to the warm oils being massaged into her flesh. This was supposed to be relaxing. This was relaxing. Only the conversation made her feel tense, worried her. Why was she being so open with him? Why was she telling him the things she was?