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Scarlett pushes me to the edge between anger and lust again.

If you trust me, we can make a go of this, and then I won't need to massage your feet again." A small pause, then, "Unless you ask, of course."

She raised herself up on her elbows and faced him for the first time since her lady parts began pushing her to jump his bones.

"That was really lovely, Bram," she said with a smile, and wished she could mask the huskiness of her voice.

"I'm happy you liked it." His answering smile lit up the whole of his usually stern face, and she struggled to keep her eyes off his lips, which she had always found to be far too succulent for her peace of mind. She had only ever felt them on her cheeks, but every kiss, though innocent, had left her all atwitter, like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

She tried to stand, and found her legs were jelly. Sitting down again abruptly, she said, her face flaming,

"I would offer to make you dinner, but it seems I no longer have the use of my legs."

She tried to make light of the fact that he had completely disarmed her, but her damp panties attested to the stark truth.

"A good massage usually has that effect," he assured her, his eyes telling her there was more he wished to say. "I'm okay for now," he ended, and went around to sit behind her. "Why don't you just relax and let me ease away the knots in your shoulders, hmm? I can see by the way you're holding yourself that you could use some loosening up there, too."

Without waiting for her approval, he set his hands to work, kneading and rubbing away at her shoulders and upper arms. He touched more than her skin as he traced the tight muscles with his palms, rolled them beneath his knuckles, and smoothed them with his stiffened fingers. She fought to keep cool when he placed his hands on either side of the column of her neck and wrapped his fingers round her throat while his nimble thumbs worked her into a frenzy. She swallowed the gasps of pleasure, and wondered that she could feel so aroused when the part of her brain that still worked registered pain in the places where she was tightest wound. She closed her eyes, and tried to hold on to her tenuous control.

"Let go," he whispered in her ear, sending shivers of awareness racing everywhere on her overly sensitized body. The heat of his body wrapped around her, raising her temperature, and she feared she would have a hot flash for the first time in her middle-aged life. "I won't let you fall. I'll catch you." His words seduced her mind, and his hands, now soothing the aching muscles with slow even strokes, seduced her senses.

Was that a kiss she felt? She silenced the moan that rose against her will, and held her body still, waiting to see if that touch would be repeated. She felt him shift behind her, and...there. It was his lips, featherlight on her shoulder blade. Then...nothing. She tried to open her eyes, to see where he had gone, but could not seem to drag the lids apart.

"Lie down," he urged her, and raised her legs to help her.

"Bram..."

"Shhh! Let me take care of you," he said, his voice strangely hoarse. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time, and you've kept putting me off. It's time to let go. Let me show you how it feels to let someone else take charge of you."

He had been arranging her body as he spoke, and she felt his hands pull the straps of her tank top down and off her arms. He unhooked her bra and let it fall to the seat, and pushed his hands up her back in slow, even strokes, from the place where the waistband of her jeans sat snugly to her shoulder blades. Somewhere in the rational part of her brain, she thought she ought to be protesting, slapping his hands away, and inviting him to leave.

But the parts of her that were on fire for his touch shushed that kernel of common sense, shaming it into sitting quietly in the corner while she enjoyed the touch of a man's hands on her spine, the teasing of his fingertips against the sides of her breasts, and the kiss he dropped on the small of her back before he said,

"Shall I keep going

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