Jordan gestured to the gun. “Well, I’ve never known anyone who walked around with one of those strapped to his leg. So I guess this is something new for both of us.”

Nick straightened up, the reality of the situation hitting him. Here he was: an FBI agent from Brooklyn, spending the weekend in wine country with a woman who would one day inherit a half-billion dollars.

He walked over to her. “What are we doing?”

She smiled slightly, as if she’d been wondering this herself. “I have no clue.”

Nick peered down at her, standing close to, but not yet past, the point of no return. Jordan didn’t move, just looked at him through half-lowered eyes. Waiting.

Without a word, he reached up and tugged her hair out of its knot. He watched as it spilled over her shoulders in blond waves, a wild contrast to the sophisticated dress, scarf, and designer high-heeled shoes she wore.

He stepped across the remaining space that divided them. “So what do billionaire heiresses like to do in the Napa Valley?”

She held his gaze. “Right now, probably the same thing as FBI agents from Brooklyn.”

Enough said.

JORDAN KNEW, FROM the look in Nick’s eyes when he scooped her up in his arms and plunked her down on top of the covers, that the time for jokes was over.

He pinned her hands in one of his against the comforter, then leaned down and kissed her, hot and demanding. She swirled her tongue around his, no playing around this time, and no teasing. When she arched against him, he released his grip and slid his hands down her arms. Then he continued over the swell of her br**sts.

He grabbed hold of the V-neck collar and ripped her dress open.

She gasped against his mouth. “My, somebody is impatient.”

His voice had a rough edge. “It’s your fault. I’ve been thinking about getting you naked since the first time I saw you drink wine.” He ran his thumb along her lower lip. “I’ve thought about a lot of things.”

While holding his gaze, Jordan licked the tip of his thumb and watched as his eyes turned dark and smoldering. He pushed the dress down her arms and tossed it onto the floor, and the scarf around her neck quickly followed. Then he pulled back and looked at her.

Normally, she would’ve felt self-conscious, lying in her bra and panties with the bright light of the afternoon sun streaming into the bedroom. But then Nick ran one of his hands along her body, from her throat to her hip, and the undisguised wanting she saw on his face made her feel quite bold instead.

She kicked off her shoes and reached for his shirt. “Your turn.”

He watched as she undid the buttons of his shirt. After she pushed it off him, he grabbed the bottom edge of his white T-shirt and pulled it over his head. He knelt above her, shirtless and stunning, his chest, arms, and stomach as toned and chiseled as a Roman god’s.

He was gorgeous. Perfect. Jordan had known Nick had been hiding the goods underneath his clothes, but this went even beyond what she’d imagined.

Her voice came out in a near whisper. “And the rest?”

“If you insist.”

With a devilish smile, he rose and stood at the foot of the bed. He kicked off his shoes, and then undid the button and zipper of his jeans. Without any hesitation, he shed his jeans, boxer briefs, and socks. He stood before her, unabashedly naked in the sunlight.

Propped up on her elbows, Jordan took in every inch of bronzed skin and sleek muscle, her eyes widening at the sight of his thick, hard erection.

“Think it’ll do?” he teased, repeating her earlier question.

She crooked her finger and beckoned him back to the bed.

Nick lowered himself over her, his eyes lit with an emerald fire that made her heart pound. He skillfully snapped open the front closure of her bra with one hand and watched as her br**sts tumbled free. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

He eased her back onto the comforter and slid the straps of her bra over her shoulders. Jordan shivered with anticipation. “Nick,” she whispered, needing him to kiss her. Their mouths came together, and she sighed when his fingers brushed across the tips of her br**sts. He lowered his head, plumped up her breast, and pulled the nipple into his mouth. With his other hand, he spread her legs and sank his hips between them.

She moaned and pressed instinctively against him as he worked his tongue across each of her br**sts. She curled her fingers through his dark hair as hot flames licked at her stomach, and lifted her hips eagerly when he moved his hands to her hips and slid her panties off.

“I should slow down,” he said huskily as he pulled one of her ni**les into his mouth and sucked gently.

Slow down? “Not a chance, Brooklyn.”

He smiled, and the stubble along his jaw scraped against her breast. “Now I’m definitely going to slow down.”

He used his fingers to part the soft, wet folds between her legs, spreading her open, then he teased her with his forefinger for what felt like eternity. As her tongue tangled with his, she gasped when he slid a finger into her and began to move it in and out in a slow, smooth rhythm.

He whispered wickedly in her ear. “I love seeing the look on your face when I touch you. Maybe I should watch you come just like this.”

Dirty words. Oh, he so did not play fair. But the Nick and Jordan show was a two-person show. She slid her hands over his well-muscled chest, her fingers brushing against the sprinkling of dark hair. She had two words for him. “Flip over.”

His eyes flashed; apparently he liked that idea.

He grabbed her hips and rolled them over in one smooth move. She straddled him, settling his rock-hard erection between her legs, skin against skin. She heard the low rumble in his chest.