It had taken hours for her to fall asleep, and even then she had slept fitfully, drifting in and out of aroused dreams until the alarm sounded too early. When she got out of bed, she was irritable, tired, itchy, twitchy—and, damn it all, still hotly aroused! As she angrily stomped around the bungalow, she realized that the “company picnic” had been a big mistake—for her personally. Seeing Court at the swimming hole in nothing but a bathing suit and with all that tanned, brawny, tight young flesh on display had been torture. Her breath had stopped every time he emerged from the pond, the water cascading off his gorgeous pumped chest. Lauren knew, or thought she knew, that Court had gone out of his way to saunter by or emerge sexily, glisteningly wet every time she was near. Of course Lauren had played that game too. But why was she the only one still tingling and aching—left hanging? As she dressed, Lauren realized that the game was not yet over—there had been no denouement.
