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His hands skimmed her back before she felt the clasp of her bra release and the weight of her breasts released from their confines. Yes, she thought, this was what she wanted. He stepped back from her and she was rewarded by the look in his eye and the knowledge that he was every bit as enthralled as she was. With painstaking precision he eased the garment from her shoulders, down her arms and completely off, before he skimmed her breasts with the back of his hand. It was seduction at its finest. Then without pause he was against her, lifting her, his hands cupping her bottom before resting her on the dresser’s edge. The move had made up for their foot difference in height and she felt even closer to him.

She was finally rewarded with the feel of both of his hands, each cupping a breast and causing electric shocks of want to course through her body to her core. His hands gently caressed her as his mouth returned to her neck, his thumbs occasionally brushing against the peaks of her rigid nipples. She loved every touch, welcomed it as she felt the anticipation of what was still to come.

He paused his tactile exploration and she opened her eyes to see why he’d stopped. His hand was able to completely cover her own tattoo, a small willow tree on her lower left hip. She blinked hard, thinking about what it represented, not wanting to explain its significance, especially now.

“You’re beautiful.”

And she believed him. “Thank you.”

A weeping willow, he thought to himself, and instantly the memory of her vulnerability on the hillside played in his mind. What was he doing? He thought to himself. He wanted her, desperately, but was this fair to her? When he knew she was vulnerable? No, it wasn’t fair to her, and from what he had learned about her so far she both needed, and deserved, someone to be on her side.

“I think we should slow down.” The words were torn from him because it was what his rational thought wanted but not what his body wanted.

“What?” she said. Her eyes dilated in both passion and disbelief.

He couldn’t repeat himself so instead he reached into one of the nearby dressers and pulled out a T-shirt, which he proceeded to cover her with. He needed to cover the temptation she represented—it didn’t work. She still turned him on and now she looked hurt and that was the last thing he wanted.

“I don’t want us to do anything you are going to regret.”

“Why would I regret this?”

He wanted to be as honest as she had been. Because he was a physician and she didn’t know. Because maybe her deeply hidden sadness was making her vulnerable to him. “Because I’m worried I’m taking advantage of you.”

He watched as her arms crossed protectively across her chest and she ran a hand through her hair, which had become wild as it dried from the rain. “In what way?”

“In that I saved your life and maybe you feel indebted to me.”

“I don’t. I’m grateful, but I don’t.”

“Okay, but what about the fact that you admitted you were running away from a disaster in your life?”

“I think that’s for me to worry about.”

“Not just you, Erin.”

“I think I should go.”

He instinctively lifted her down from the dresser he had perched her on and backed away. He watched as she looked at the wet heap that was her shirt and bra on the floor before deciding to leave it and making her way to the door.

She shut the door of her room and collapsed against the back of it before sinking down on the floor. He hadn’t stopped her and he hadn’t followed her, and how she had wanted him to. The worst part was that she believed him and understood why he had stopped.

Ryan saw her as fragile and he didn’t want to take advantage of her. Where had he been three years ago? And how she wished he had been wrong, but the truth was she was still vulnerable. And maybe she would always have that vulnerability that had been born from being broken.

Was she making a good decision with Ryan? She knew she wanted him and wished he hadn’t stopped what had been the most sensual encounter she had ever experienced. But she also couldn’t deny that she wasn’t in a good position emotionally to be making major life choices. But was Ryan that? She had convinced herself last night that he was a holiday indulgence to be enjoyed but after today he felt like more. And what was worse, she actually respected and trusted him more for turning her away. So where did that leave them now?

A KNOCK AT HER hotel room door roused her from the late-afternoon nap she had been indulging in. After she had lifted herself from the room’s floor and showered the chill from her body she curled up in the hotel-provided terry-toweling robe, thinking of all the questions she had no answers for.

She fastened the robe’s sash tightly and then made her way to the door. She opened the door slightly to see Ryan, who also looked drier than the last time she had seen him. She opened the door wider and stepped aside to allow him inside. Both her eyes and her nose spotted the bag of food he was carrying.

“I thought I would bring dinner to you.”

She glanced at the room’s clock and realized that her late-afternoon nap had spread well into the evening and it was past eight.

“Thank you,” she said cautiously, not knowing where they stood. “How did you know which room I was in?”

“I saw you last night on your balcony and you’re welcome.” He went ahead and set up his offering on the round table adjacent to the glass balcony doors and she took the seat intended for her.

“Smells delicious,” she remarked, trying to keep their conversation neutral but realizing she was more than happy at his reappearance.

“It’s nice to see you smile. I was worried I had ruined things between us.”

His confession brought out an instant relaxation in her and the awkwardness of the aftermath of the previous encounter dissolved.

“You haven’t.”

“I hope you like traditional Scottish fare. It was what the restaurant recommended and it seemed fitting. Plus they had the bread pudding that you seemed very fond of last night.” He was smiling to accompany the gentle familiarity of his teasing.

“You know what they say about holidays—it’s the time to indulge.”

“Yes.” His voice had changed and contained a masculine huskiness as she realized the other meanings of her words. It was clear that, whatever had happened between them, he still wanted her, too.

“So what are your plans?” she asked, trying to shift the focus from their almost sexual encounter.

He choked on the glass of water he had been sipping from. “Excuse me?”

“For the rest of your time in Scotland,” she amended, realizing he’d thought she had been asking about his plans for her.