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She pulled the truck up behind the bunkhouse, where it would be out of the way until she could unload everything. Her clothes and personal things could go into her bedroom, but all the supplies for her studio would have to wait. She’d scoped out the storage room before she left and knew it would take time to clean it out. She’d considered doing it then, but Heath had insisted she wait until he was back from New York and could help her.

She opened the door to the storage room to give it a second look. The room was dim, with only the light coming in from one window, so she felt around until she found a light switch. A couple of fluorescent bulbs kicked on, highlighting the dusty shelves and cardboard boxes that filled the space. Molly was right—with a little elbow grease it woul

d be the perfect place for her to work.

The hardwood floors continued into the storage room. There were several sturdy shelving units and open spaces for her to put her equipment. The brand-new, top-of-the-line kiln she ordered would fit nicely into the corner. She couldn’t wait to get settled in.

Julianne grabbed her large rolling suitcase and threw a duffel bag over her shoulder. She hauled them slowly up the stairs and paused at the landing between the two bedrooms. She wasn’t sure which one to use. She’d never slept in the bunkhouse before. Whenever she came home, she used her old room, but that was going to be unavailable for a few weeks at least until Dad was able to climb the stairs again. She reached for the doorknob on the left, pushing the door open with a loud creak.

It was a nice, big space. When she was younger the rooms had been equipped with bunk beds that would allow the Edens to take in up to eight foster children at a time. Wade, Brody, Xander and Heath had stayed at the Garden of Eden until they were grown, but there were a dozen other boys who came and went for short periods of time while their home situations straightened out.

She was relieved to see the old bunks had been replaced with two queen-sized beds. They had matching comforters and a nightstand between them. A large dresser flanked the opposite wall. She took a step in and noticed the closet door was ajar and a suitcase was lying open inside it. And a light was coming from under the bathroom door. Heath was back. She hadn’t noticed his car.

Before she could turn around, the bathroom door opened and Heath stepped out. He was fresh from the shower. His hair was damp and combed back, his face pink and smooth from a hot shave. The broad, muscular chest she caught a glimpse of a few days before was just as impressive now, with its etched muscles and dark hair, only this time his skin was slick. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, thank goodness, but that was the only thing between her and a fully naked Heath.

Once upon a time, the sight of her naked husband had launched her into a complete panic attack. The cloud of confused emotions and fear had doused any arousal she might have felt. Eleven years and a lot of therapy later, only the dull ache of need was left when she looked at him.

Heath wasn’t startled by her appearance. In fact, her appraising glance seemed to embolden him. He arched an eyebrow at her and then smiled the way he always seemed to when she was uncomfortable. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”

A flush rushed to her cheeks from a mix of embarrassment and instant arousal. She knew Heath could see it, so that just made the deep red color even worse. “I’m sorry. I’ve done it again.” Julianne backed toward the door, averting her eyes to look at anything but his hard, wet body and mocking grin. “I parked the moving truck out back and didn’t realize you were here. I was trying to figure out which room I should use.”

“You’re welcome to use this one,” Heath said. He sat down on the edge of one of the beds and gave it a good test bounce. “That would prove interesting.”

“Uh, no,” she said, slipping back through the doorway. “The other room will be just fine.”

Her hands were shaking as she gripped the handle of her luggage and rolled it to the opposite bedroom. When she opened the door, she found it to be exactly the same as the other one, only better, because it didn’t have her cocky, naked husband in it.

She busied herself hanging up clothes in the closet and storing underthings in the dresser. Putting things away was a good distraction from the sexual thoughts and raging desire pumping through her veins.

Julianne was setting out the last of her toiletries in the bathroom when she turned and found Heath in her doorway, fully clothed.

“Do you need help bringing more things in?”

“Not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe we can work on clearing out the storage room and then I can unload the rest of my supplies there. There’s no sense piling up things in the living room. I don’t have to return the truck for a few days.”

“Okay, good,” he said, but he didn’t leave.

Julianne stood, waiting for him to speak or do something, but he just leaned against her door frame. His hazel gaze studied her, his eyes narrowing in thought. A smile curled his lips. She had no idea what he was actually thinking, but it was unnerving to be scrutinized so closely.

Finally, she returned to putting her things away and tried to pretend he wasn’t inspecting her every move. There was something about the way he watched her that made her very aware of her own body. It happened every time. He didn’t have to say a word, yet she would feel the prickle of awareness start up the back of her neck. Her heart would begin pounding harder in her chest. The sound of her breath moving rapidly in and out of her lungs would become deafening.

Then came the heat. What would start as a warmness in her cheeks would spread through her whole body. Beads of perspiration would start to form at the nape of her neck and the valley between her breasts. Deep in her belly, a churning heat would grow warmer and warmer.

All with just a look. She tried desperately to ignore him because she knew how quickly these symptoms would devolve to blatant wanting, especially if he touched her. Eleven years ago, she was too frightened to do anything about her feelings, but she’d come a long way. There was nothing holding her back now. Whether or not Heath still wanted her, he seemed happy to push the issue. How the hell would she make it through the next few months with him so close by? With no brothers or other family here to distract them?

“I’m surprised you’re staying in the bunkhouse,” Heath said at last.

“Why is that?” Julianne didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, she stuffed her empty duffel bag into her luggage and zipped it closed.

“I would’ve thought you’d want to stay as far away from me as possible. Then again,” he added, “this might be your chance to indulge your secret desires without anyone finding out. Maybe you’re finally ready to finish what we started.”

Julianne turned to look at him with her hands planted on her hips. Hopefully her indignant attitude would mask how close to the truth he actually was. “Indulge my secret desires? Really, Heath?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his gray trousers and took a few slow, casual steps into the room. “Why else would you stay out here? I’m sure things in the big house are much nicer.”

“They are,” she replied matter-of-factly. “But Daddy will be coming home soon and there won’t be a room for me there. Besides, being out here makes me feel more independent. My studio will be downstairs, so it’s convenient and I’ll be less likely to disturb Mom and Dad.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “You can stay up late and make all the noise you want. You could scream the walls down if you felt inclined.”

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