Jack ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Why are we having this fight again? We’re not married anymore.”

And they’d just run through many of the reasons why. Again. “Thank goodness for that.” She reached for her wine glass and drank deeply.

“If anyone’s a snob, Brenna, it’s you.”

She choked on her wine. “What? Not hardly.”

Jack stood and walked to within an inch of her. “You’re a wine snob. All ‘fruit of the vine, nectar of the gods’ garbage. It gets old. And quite boring.”

The comment stung, but she stood her ground. “Gee, I’m sheltered, naïve, snobbish, and boring and you’re an overbearing, condescending jerk with a superiority complex. I don’t know how we ever ended up together in the first place.”

She regretted the words the moment they left her lips. When would she learn not to wave the red flag in front of the bull just because she was angry?

Jack’s eyes lit alarmingly and traced a path down her body, leaving her skin tingling again in their wake. How had she forgotten she was practically naked? And that he was too? Her nipples tightened against the fabric of her bikini, and a slow half-smile crossed Jack’s face. “Oh, I think you remember why, Bren,” he said quietly. “I know I do.”

His husky voice moved through her and every nerve ending came to life. She was close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. A rush of desire slammed into her, making her knees wobble, and her heart beat faster. Damn him. “D-don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. This has always been the subject.” He traced a finger over her collarbone and down the top of her arm. Gooseflesh rose in its wake, and a shiver moved through her. “We’ve always had this.”

“Jack, don’t.” Her voice sounded breathy and unsteady even to her, but she couldn’t pull away from the tease of his touch or the promise in his voice. Her body screamed for more, and all she’d have to do is take a tiny step forward…

No. She closed her eyes, blocking the sight of temptation, but her other senses were still under assault and she swayed on her feet. Sex wouldn’t solve anything. It never had, she reminded herself. They’d been down this path many, many times. Fight bitterly, then have fabulous make-up sex. It never made anything better. In this case, it could only make things worse. More complicated.

She had to remember that, no matter how much her body begged to differ. No matter how strong the ache was.

No matter how much she wanted him.

She knew what his hands could do to her, remembered the feel of his skin against hers. From the fire in Jack’s eyes, she knew he was remembering as well. A tiny shiver of desire rippled through her.

His finger finished its slow path down her arm and now tickled across the sensitive skin of her waist, over her stomach where butterflies battered her insides.

“Jack, I… I mean, we, shouldn’t. Can’t.” She didn’t know exactly what she was trying to say, but weak protest was better than none at all.

Jack’s voice rumbled through her. “But we can. And you know you want to.” The tickling fingers became a warm caress as his palm moved over the dip in her waist to the plane of her lower back.

Be strong. Brenna inhaled, filling her starved lungs with oxygen and the enticing smell that was uniquely Jack. Now step away. The signal to her feet to move got lost in transit as Jack’s arm began to encircle her.

She was wavering, and she hated herself for it. What harm could it do? her body argued.

A lot, her heart responded.

Hundreds of reasons – solid, rational reasons – why this would be a mistake raced through her mind, but that didn’t stop her from taking a step closer to him. Jack’s fingers tightened on her back, urging her closer still, until she could feel the hairs on his chest tickling faintly across her skin.

Brenna’s brain felt foggy, and she lifted her hand to his chest to create a barrier. Jack inhaled sharply at her touch, and the muscle under his skin jumped in response.

Just a taste.

Jack’s hand came up to lift her chin, angling it for his kiss, and reality intruded one last time. She’d regret this either way, but which choice would she regret more?

His mouth was almost on hers when she clasped her hand around his wrist. She could feel the heavy beat of his pulse under her fingers matching the thumping in her chest. Jack’s cheek slid across hers as she turned her face away.

“You want me, Bren. I can feel it,” Jack whispered.

Oh, he was so right about that. And she could feel how much he wanted her. All she had to do was say yes…

“I’ll make this easier for you.” Jack kissed her temple, then moved to her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine. “Give me tonight, and I’ll give you the winery.”