Cole looked thunderous, but she didn’t care. That she didn’t actually want to remove her clothing also didn’t matter. Cole turned her into the rebellious teenager she never actually was. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t, turn back now.

“Well, fine.” Cole reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off. Sarah tried not to stare.

Unfortunately, she stared.

And stared some more.

And really, while it was getting incredibly pathetic, continued to stare.

Yeah, the trying wasn’t so successful.

He should be on gossip websites – no, in one of those hot body calendars – or perhaps both. Muscles rippled with every movement, defining his chest, cording on thick arms. His jeans hung low on his waist, showcasing a hard stomach and six-pack abs. Dominance flowed from him, authoritative power shaping a commanding presence.

She looked up into knowing eyes. Cole’s smug expression said he knew exactly how he affected her. “Your turn.”

Sarah hesitated as she took the offered robe. This had seemed like a better idea before his shirt was gone. “Isn’t there a dressing room?”

“I’m afraid not.” Mr. Simmons pivoted away from her. “But, really, it’s fine for you to keep your clothing on.”

Cole’s eyes blazed in challenge, daring her to follow the path she’d begun. He didn’t think she would. Ironically, that’s what finally gave her the strength, but not before she made her own demands. “Turn around.”

He lifted an eyebrow, conveying his thoughts as clearly as if he’d spoken. He’d already seen everything. Still, no way was he seeing her now. A moment passed, then finally, he turned.

She pulled off her clothing, slipped on the robe and cinched it tight with the matching belt, all in under sixty seconds. Silky and sleek, the fabric fell in luxurious waves to her thighs, kissing whisper soft touches across her skin. “I’m ready,” she declared.

“Great.” Mr. Simmons clapped his hands. “Who wants to go first?”

“He can.” She’d barely gotten over being undressed. She needed a respite before Cole put his hands on her body.

“As you wish,” Cole drawled lowly. With the grace of a panther, he climbed face down onto the massage table. Suddenly she was very much aware of his lack of clothing and of hers under the thin robe. She stepped forward, stopped as she got her first good look at his back. Her heart plummeted.

Somethinghadchanged.

Cole wasn’t perfect. Oh, most of him was. His back was still expansive and well-muscled, with not an ounce of excess fat to tarnish its power. He was still large, commanding and formidable. And yet the smoothness that had been so perfect years ago was not unmarred. Healed and yet jagged, a scar broke the straight lines of his back, starting at his left shoulderand running down more than half his torso. She had been so preoccupied with undressing, she hadn’t noticed it before.

“What happened?” she whispered before she could stop herself. He looked up from the table, his eyes blazing. She drew back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. If you don’t want to talk about it–”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice was a strained whisper, a symphony of pain. He closed and opened his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss it. It doesn’t bother me anymore, so just pretend it’s not there.”

Sarah nodded, yet endless questions brewed. What had caused such a deep scar? What had he been through? Most of all…

How could she help him?

She forced her attention back to the present, to the masculine man beneath her. Even lying on the table, he was gigantic. The power was still evident, just controlled.

“Ready to touch him?” the masseuse asked.

Gimme a Y, gimme an E, gimme a S, what does that spell? Yes!“Sure,” she said lightly. It was no big deal. This was a casual situation in a casual setting. Masseuses gave massages to strangers every day, and it was an absolutely ordinary experience.

But Cole was no stranger, and he was anything but ordinary.

“First take some lubrication,” Mr. Simmons instructed.

Lubrication?Sarah forced away a thousand and two inappropriate thoughts as she accepted the warm oil. Smoothing it onto her palms, she shifted her weight between her feet, as if preparing for a physical feat. Only this would be far more challenging than a police academy obstacle course.

“Now touch his back.”

Had someone turned the heat to the solar flare setting? Thank goodness Cole couldn’t see her. Lower, lower, lower shedropped her hands until she touched the smooth plains of his skin. Somehow, he was even harder than he looked, granite muscles taut with power. He was as heated as a furnace, pure strength under velvet.