Fine. Only there wasn’t any “community” to worry about. Except for the “community” of the two of them. And in total darkness, with Jake, she was hardly worried about anyone else anyway. Bathing under the stars isn’t at all your style, Anne… She piled two thick terry-cloth towels in her arms, added her soft navy velour robe, and felt as if there were five tons of irritation in her bloodstream. No one liked to be pegged.

When she moved past him again, Jake moved forward to get out of her way. The motor home had ample space except when two adults were trying to negotiate the walkway at the same time. It took some effort to avoid touching each other-and Jake was certainly making the effort. Anne added a hairbrush to her pile of bath supplies. “Unless you have some objection, I’d prefer the tub over the shower,” she said stiffly.

“Why would I have any objection?” He paused. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

They both stepped outside into the darkness. A little wispy mist was starting to rise from the creek, illuminated by occasional yellow yard lights strung haphazardly through the camp’s park. The charcoal dusk seemed to mute all sounds. It was nearing ten. The two other mobile homes in the distance were dark; they might as well not have existed.

Jake raised his arm and just looked at her. Anne walked into the hollow of his shoulder with a small smile and they started along the shadowed path. Jake’s arm offered a simple promise of reassurance, as if her body had just plugged in to a powerful source of warmth. She had a sudden whim to be kissed in Iowa.

Their eyes met, and Jake’s lips suddenly curled in an almost imperceptible smile. Anne’s lashes lowered at the speed of light. “You can’t use the motor home for daily travel around Idaho, can you?” she said.

“I drive a Jeep, which I keep there. And the motor home isn’t the only place I lay my head, Anne, but I’d prefer to save a few surprises-most of the surprises-until we get there.”

“You haven’t really told me much about what you do in Idaho. Just knowing you’re involved in silver mines doesn’t tell me much.”

“Anything to do with silver doesn’t make any sense until you see it. As you will, Anne.” He shifted the clothes under his free arm. “In the meantime, somehow I didn’t expect you to spend your days staring at cornfields.”

“No?” she asked wryly. “What else did you want me to look at?”

“Finances. Mine. The ones you told your boss you would handle.”

His voice was light, but Anne’s mood changed abruptly. “Then he’ll have to fire me. Jake, that’s between you and you, your money. Don’t play games.”

“I’m not playing games. I want a trust. You’re a trust officer.”

She pushed a branch out of their way as they neared the redwood structure. Was he teasing? Unfortunately, she’d always found it very difficult to view finances in a humorous light. “If I were to handle your business-which I will not do-the last thing I would set up for you is a trust. A trust is set up primarily to protect heirs, so-”

“Exactly,” he said swiftly.

“Pardon?”

“Heirs, Anne. That’s exactly what I’ve in mind. Heirs out of wedlock, since we’re no longer talking marriage.”

Anne’s heart skipped a beat and a half. “Well, fine then,” she said cheerfully. “Give me the names and Social Security numbers of your illegitimate children, Jake, and then if you absolutely insist…”

His low, throaty laughter echoed in the stillness. “At least you didn’t panic when I said the word, sassy.”

The word marriage. Anne hugged the towels and robe to her chest, suddenly unable to concentrate.

At the foot of the wooden ladder, Jake offered, “If you’d rather have the hot tub to yourself, I’ll wait here until you’ve had a turn.”

“Don’t be silly,” Anne said irritably. They were both adults, it was dark and they’d certainly seen each other’s bare bottoms before. Jake’s arm on her shoulder could not have been more brotherly, and furthermore, she resented being treated like a prudish Victorian miss.

Her calf muscles tightened as she mounted the steps ahead of him. There were no yellow camp lights near the tub house. She reached out in search of something to hold on to as she climbed up to the tub; she could barely see the ladder. The owner was rather eccentric, Anne decided, between his ducks and a hot tub built in the air.

“Can you see to unlock the door?” she asked when they’d both reached the platform at the top of the ladder.

“My night vision’s always been better than yours,” Jake replied.

“Hate carrots,” Anne murmured absently. He opened the wooden gate, ushered her into the enclosure and relatched it with the two of them locked inside. Vaguely, she could make out a narrow deck surrounding a square pool large enough for perhaps six adults to sit in. Steam rose from the surface, a stark contrast to the chilly night air. The stars above the redwood fence seemed hung so low as to be touchable.

Anne set down the towels, heard Jake popping the buttons on his flannel shirt and froze for one odd second. From behind her, she heard shoes clump on the deck. Then a zipper being pulled down. A zipper had such a distinct sound… Instantly she decided that she would definitely prefer to bathe alone. Jake could go first; she could go first; it didn’t make any difference. Just not together. Only it was too late to make that decision…

When she no longer heard the sounds of clothing being removed, she hurried to fill the silence. “The air is absolutely freezing,” she mentioned with a little laugh.

“And the water is very, very warm. You won’t be cold, Anne.”

Hmm. The water surged noisily when he stepped in; Anne’s eyes darted nervously to the wooden gate.

“It’s locked,” he assured her. The thread of lazy humor in his voice was unmistakable. “I could have sworn you could hardly wait to get in the hot tub.”

“I can’t,” she agreed vaguely, and dropped down on the rough wooden bench by the towels. She slid off her pumps slowly, one at a time, and set them neatly side by side under the bench. She felt…set up. Stepping back into the shadows, she turned away from Jake and reached under her skirt to pull down her pantyhose, not a graceful action at the best of times.

“Anne?”

She refused to look up. The button on her skirt wouldn’t budge, probably because her fingers had suddenly turned cold and clumsy. The zipper got caught on the sole stray thread in the placket. Finally, the skirt was off and folded neatly on the bench. Her pulse pounded as if she were having an anxiety attack. She felt like a stripper about to walk on stage for the first time.

Her half-slip had turned icy the way only cold satin can. Night air whispered intimately up her legs. If the wind had been a man, she would have slapped it for its brash familiarity with that feminine triangle between her thighs. Still turned away from Jake, she started undoing the dozen tiny pearl buttons on her blue blouse.

She could feel Jake’s eyes on her back, waiting. He knew what she was feeling. He was the one who’d shifted their relationship into neutral, and he knew perfectly well that it put nakedness in a different light. Undressing for a lover was one thing, but she was not supposed to want an intimate relationship with him these two weeks. She didn’t. Not again, Anne, you’ll go to pieces when it’s over. So…it should be nothing, slipping off a few clothes in the dark. Jake had seen her nude before; they were both adults, and Jake had made it very clear that he wasn’t going to make a pass. She had no reason at all to feel suddenly as vulnerable and fragile as a cotton puff.

Slowly, she pulled off her blouse, one sleeve and then the other. Pearl-smooth shoulders gleamed their softness from the dark water’s reflection. She could keep her bra and panties on, of course; they covered more than a bathing suit. She could keep them on if she was willing to admit to herself that she still wanted him, that she cared too much, that nakedness plus closeness plus Jake was a very risky combination in her mind. Her limbs moved like satin in shadow as she unhooked the front catch of her bra. Her bare breasts protested the sudden exposure to the cold, and the nipples tightened vulnerably.

“Turn around, Anne.” His voice soft, the humor all gone. Just a husky, vibrant baritone talking only to that very tiny, very primitive part of Anne…

“I’ll be in in a moment.” She rapidly stripped off the half-slip and panties, and her whole body began to tremble with cold. She turned toward the tub then, head lowered as she carefully negotiated the steps. The steaming hot water surged around her slim calves, then her waist, and she hurriedly crouched down so that the water came up to her shoulders.

She took a breath. “Feels good,” she offered lightly, and forced her legs to stretch out under the cover of the soothing dark water.

Jake said nothing. His face was in shadow, but he was looking at her. His arms were stretched out on the sides of the tub, and gleamed golden in the darkness. His hair had picked up the silver of the stars, and was ruffled like thick, rough fur. The eyes pinned on hers were distinctly a man’s: silvery, intense, opaque… She groped for an innocuous conversational gambit.

None occurred to her.

Very slowly, like a hunter being careful not to frighten a wary doe, Jake got out of the tub and reached for something to the side. She heard a click, understanding it seconds later. The concealing black waters turned iridescent turquoise, suddenly lit by three circular spotlights in the bottom of the pool. Her limbs turned to stone, locked in helpless, vulnerable display. Jake’s nudity was just as clearly revealed, as he rejoined her in the tub, yet he looked neither helpless nor vulnerable.