It didn’t matter with them. The sex would still be hot.

* * *

Logan returned to her seat and carefully scooped Jax back into her arms and sat down with her daughter, not because Jax needed to be held but because Logan needed Jax for safety. Security.

Rowan’s kiss had shaken her to the core.

Her heart still pounded, her body flooded with wants and needs that could destroy her. Rowan was not good for her. Rowan was danger...

She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, determined to clamp down on her emotions, determined to slow her pulse.

She didn’t want him. She couldn’t want him. She couldn’t forget what happened last time, and she wasn’t even talking about the blisteringly hot sex, but the emptiness afterward. The sex hadn’t just been sex. It hadn’t felt like sweat and exercise...release...it’d felt transformative.

It’d been...bliss.

And then he’d walked out of her Santa Monica house, door slamming behind him, and her heart had shattered into a thousand pieces. Never mind what he’d done to her self-respect.

She couldn’t be turned on now. She couldn’t be so stupid as to imagine that he’d be different, that the lovemaking would be safer or that the aftermath would be less destructive.

He was fire. And when he touched her, she blistered and living with burns wasn’t her idea of a calm, centered, happy life.

She needed a calm, centered, happy life. It was the only way to provide for Jax. The only way to raise Jax in a healthy home.

Rowan Argyros might be seduction on two legs, but he wasn’t the daddy she wanted for Jax, or the partner she needed—and then suddenly he was back, dropping into the leather seat across from hers and extending his legs, his dark head tipping back, his eyes closing, hiding his intense green eyes.

But even with his eyes closed the air felt charged. Magnetic.

She glared at him, hating how her pulse jumped and raced and her body grew hot all over again just because he was close.

Without even opening his eyes he said, “We still have a good four plus hours to go. I’d sleep if I were you. You’ll feel better—”

“This is not my first international trip,” she said curtly, cutting him off. Of course he’d think she was staring at him. And yes, she was, but that was beside the point.

The edge of his mouth lifted. “Suit yourself.”

“Yes, I will.”

The corner lifted higher.

Her stomach tightened. Her pulse raced. She pressed her lips into a thin, hard line, trying to hold back all the angry words she wanted to hurl at him.

He brought out the worst in her. He did. She needed to get away from him, and the sooner the better. But how?

She wasn’t dealing with an ordinary man. If she set aside her personal feelings for a moment, she’d admit that he was extraordinary in every way, but that was the problem. With Rowan she couldn’t set aside her personal feelings. With Rowan it was nothing but personal.

The night he’d spent with her had changed her forever. His touch was so profound that he might as well have taken a hammer and chisel to her heart, carving his name into the very marrow of her being.

Even now she could feel him as if his hand was on hers.

As if his chest was pressed to hers.

She could feel him because just the smell, touch, taste of him made her burn. She wanted him still.