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up with—I quickly cut off that train of thought.
    He groaned, his hand stroking my hair. “I have them.”
    “Then I really don’t understand.”
    “Neither do I,” he muttered, almost too low for me to hear.
    I didn’t get what was going on with him—a change of mind? Or not?
    Uncomfortable being the only one undressed and vulnerable, I forced myself out of his embrace. “Explain or I walk,” I said, jumping out of bed and searching for my clothes.
    “Stop,” he commanded in that voice.
    Until he provided me with understanding that made sense, I wasn’t falling under his spell again. Without worrying about the panties, I continued my jerky movements, pulling up the sweats and yanking the tee shirt over my head.
    “I don’t want anything between us when I come inside you,” he finally said, the admission drawn from somewhere deep. “Skin to skin. Flesh to flesh. No barrier. I couldn’t stand it.”
    I stilled. His words were soft, not spoken in that take-charge way, yet my body responded, returning to the place where I ceded control willingly, without thought.
    This was bad, I realized. Scary bad, this sudden deep, emotional need and connection between us. But it existed.
    I looked up, met his gaze. He stared back, but his expression still held blank pieces, and my stomach churned uncomfortably.
    He held out his hand.
    I strode over, placing my palm in his. Decision made, nerves be damned. Whatever this was, we were in it together. Because what I’d found with Gabe behind his bedroom door was too strong to be denied.
    I sensed there was more to why he hadn’t … fucked me … than wanting us skin to skin. I shivered at the sensual prospect because I wanted it too. But it scared me. Badly.
    I wondered what it would take for him to admit that it had scared him too.

Chapter Eight
    Gabe: Coming to Terms
    S hit, shit, shit.
    Gabe swept the papers off his desk, sending everything flying onto the floor. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way about anyone. Not ever again.
    Ghosts flashed in front of his eyes, of those he’d loved and lost, and the one he hadn’t really loved and should never have married. Now he had a woman in his bedroom asleep, and despite all his damned commands, she held all the power.
    He’d learned about power exchange in order to feel in control—of himself and his life? And he had.
    Until Isabelle.
    He should have heeded his brother and not taken her home, but he’d listened to her sassy retorts, he’d looked into her eyes, and he’d been trapped. So here he was, sporting a hard-on the likes of which he’d never experienced, relief a couple of feet away, and he was doing something he’d never done before—depriving himself of what he wanted.
    Because what he wanted was more than her body. He wanted her soul. And she was clearly nowhere near ready to give it to him.
    His phone rang, and he answered without checking the caller ID. “Yeah.”
    “Good morning to you too, big brother.”
    “Lucy, what are you doing calling so early on the weekend?” If it was nine a.m. in New York, it was six a.m. in California.
    “My other brother called and said you’d lost your mind over a woman, so I’m calling for information.”
    Gabe rolled his eyes. “I haven’t lost my mind, Luce. Decklan exaggerates.”
    “Did you or did you not move her into my room?”
    “So that’s why you’re calling. You’re pissed you’re being displaced.”
    Lucy burst out laughing. “I could care less about that. And I’ll take that answer as a yes.” She let out a whoop of joy.
    “Tone it down,” he muttered.
    “Don’t go all bossy on me. I’m flying home to meet her.”
    Gabe shook his head. “You’ll do no such thing.” At least, not until he figured out what he was going to do with her.
    “I was coming anyway. There’s an island resort off the coast of Florida. It’s called Eden. How cool is that? You can only go there via invitation. It’s secluded, secretive, and exclusive,