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Donovan’s lips parted with soundless shock.

“Nate was bleeding out when I got there, but the paramedics arrived in time to save him. He had to have transfusions. Surgery. Nothing could be done for my mom.” Marin still had nightmares where she stayed longer with Donovan, where she took that offer to go to the diner with him and got home too late to save Nathan. “I had to drop out of school for a while to put our lives back together and figure out how to keep Nate with me instead of losing him to foster care.”

“Christ, Marin.” There was no filter on his expression now, no therapist face. He looked . . . stripped. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

She rubbed her hands on her thighs, trying to get them to stop trembling. “Yeah, it sucked.”

Understatement of the century. “But Nathan and I have made out all right. He’s about to start art school and I’m here”—she sent him a half-smile, trying to lighten the somber tone the conversation had taken—“embarrassing clients because I’ve managed to become the most inexperienced sex therapist ever.”

He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, his palm warm through the thin cotton of her shirt. The naked empathy in his eyes made something twist in her gut. “That last part’s a minor blip on the radar. Look at you. It’s a damn miracle you’re here at all. When I lost my parents, I fell completely the fuck apart. And I was in my twenties, had a trust fund, and didn’t have anyone else to take care of. You were a kid, had no help, and became a doctor while raising another human being on your own? That’s superhero quality, Marin.”

She looked down, the praise and his awed tone winding through her, nudging things she didn’t want nudged.

He released her shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You can catch up on the experience thing. That’s easy.”

She laughed, though the humor felt forced. “Right, so easy. I just need it done in time for tomorrow’s sessions. No biggie. Maybe I’ll just run into town and pick up a guy who could show me a few things. Have him give me some kinky CliffsNotes. Or maybe I could call Lane. That’s what he does, right? Teaches.”

Frown lines bracketed Donovan’s mouth. “You don’t need Lane.”

His sudden shift in tone caught her off guard. She tilted her head, matching his frown. “I was kidding.”

Mostly. Lane was a tempting proposition. A good-looking guy who seemed nice enough, who could teach her a few things with no pressure or expectations, and who could keep it businesslike? It sounded ideal. Safe.

Donovan’s gaze turned shrewd. “You’re not going to go from novice to unshakable in one day. And bedding some random dude isn’t going to do much good. You’re not embarrassed by the basics of sex. And that’s all most guys are going to give you—the blandest version of vanilla. And at least half have no idea what the hell they’re doing anyway.”

She smirked. “I love that you say that like obviously you know better. Humble, much?”

He shrugged, not denying it. “You spend your career focused on sex, you learn a few things.”

“Obviously I missed that bullet point,” she said wryly.

“You did just fine from what I remember.” His eyes met hers, those blue eyes piercing her. “And believe me. I remember it all, Marin. Every. Damn. Second.”

The words crackled through her like heat lightning. Donovan had kept things casual tonight, but something in his demeanor had shifted, letting her see a flash of what was beyond what he’d been showing her. That bad boy she’d heard about, that doctor who’d gone to L.A. and worked his way through actresses—that guy was in there twining with the brilliant boy she used to know and making her thoughts scamper in ten different directions. She shifted against the bench, long-dormant nerve endings waking up and paying attention.

Donovan peered toward the trees, tension that wasn’t there before rolling off him. “I should stop talking now.”

Yes, he should. He totally should. Her mouth opened before she could stop it. “Why?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Because hearing you say you want someone to teach you about sex, that you need more exposure to taboo stuff, is making me want to offer things I shouldn’t, making me remember how intense that week with you was, how hot things were when we finally gave in to it. And I’m not noble enough to play it off.”

“Donovan.” She inhaled a shaky breath, and her mind immediately jumped to what he wasn’t saying. Donovan mentoring her in an altogether different way. Naked bodies. Skin pressing against skin. Forbidden fantasies springing to life in the dark. She ran her hand over the back of her neck, finding it damp and burning hot. “I—”

“Please don’t say anything.” He turned to her and frowned. “You shouldn’t have to respond to that. I’m sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t cross the line with you. I owe you that. Just ignore me.”

She blinked, off balance from his words, the wine, and the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure she would’ve turned him down if he hadn’t cut her off first. She closed her eyes, trying to regain some semblance of sanity. “Maybe I could do some online research on the areas I’m unfamiliar with.”

The suggestion was lame, like throwing a deflated balloon in the air and expecting it to float, but she needed something to get them off this dangerous track. They were tiptoeing over splintered ice right now. One wrong move and they’d both be taken under. She couldn’t go there. Her body wanted him. There was no doubt about that. But blurring their roles had disaster written all over it. She needed to stay focused on the job not her starving libido.

Donovan cleared his throat and seemed to drag himself back from the brink, too. He gave a brisk nod. “Sure. That may help some since exposure is what you need. There’s a video for everything.” He rolled his shoulders as if shaking off the previous conversation and regaining business mode. “I’ll send you some from the X-wing collection if you want. You need to watch them anyway so you know which to suggest to people. But that kind of research just covers the knowledge factor, not the embarrassment or awkwardness. I doubt you’ll get embarrassed watching porn alone in the privacy of your own home.”

She took a breath, relieved they were backtracking into safe territory. “I honestly have no idea. I’m more of a book girl than a video one. Though I did find a DVD Nate tried to hide once. I didn’t know what it was but watched more than I needed to once I put it in the player.”

Her attempt at levity earned her a halfhearted smile from Donovan. “Teen boys usually pick the worst. What was it?”

“Well, Nate’s gay, so . . .”

“Ah, gay porn. A fan favorite with my female clients. I recommend it often for those having arousal trouble.”

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