This evening was a perfect example.

A last minute excursion into the city to investigate a potential threat to national security had seemingly derailed their plans for an evening out on the town that was to be capped off by a moonlight drive along the PCH. ‘Seemingly’ being the operative word for as Jack beheld Sabrina as he entered the suite, he realized going out was still very much an option for her.

“Am I to take it we’ll be dining in tonight?” she posed, quirking a finely waxed brow.

“If you don’t mind, Babe.” Jack shrugged out of his jacket and draped it on the back of Sabrina’s favored chaise lounge, a weary smile accompanying his pleading gaze.

Sabrina did a graceful spin then gave a sweep of her hands in kind along her shapely frame, drawing his attention to the alabaster Herve Leger bandage dress.

“So then. . .this was for naught?”

“I always look beautiful, Bauer.” Her soft laughter hung in the air as she headed for the wet bar.

“That is very true,” Jack agreed.

Head cocked slightly to the side he looked on, appreciating the gentle sway of her hips and the marvelous shape of the supple yet firm globes of her ass, all a perfect symphony of sensuality in motion. There were times he could simply watch her walk away. All day long. The sight of her in motion—period—always stirred something within him, but the vision of her leaving tapped into the purely visceral and primal. Moments later he accepted the proffered tumbler of scotch Sabrina extended to him, even as he deftly drew her playfully protesting form onto his lap.

Sabrina draped her arms about his neck. As always when they were in close proximity to each other, she gave in to the need to touch him; burying the fingers of her right hand in his hair, lazily threading them through his sandy locks as she gingerly trailed the fingers of her left along his jawline.

“Make it up to me?”

Her slender, skilled digits now danced along the contours of his mouth. She did not wait for his answer but instead leaned in for a soft yet lingering kiss, moaning softly as she savored the taste of the vintage malt upon his tongue.

Jack gave a low growl of protest as Sabrina broke off the kiss. “You know I will.” A faint nip of her lower lip preceded a promise-filled curve of his. “Soon as I clean up and get something to eat. I’m starving!”

“Duly noted.” A smile accompanied her sigh of disappointment. “Why don’t you go ahead and take your time washing the day off,” she suggested, “and I’ll call the chef and have him whip up a quick feast.” Stealthily, she retrieved the empty tumbler. “What are you hungry for? Steak? Seafood? Chicken? All of the above?”

“Surprise me,” he grinned.

Forty-five minutes later, chin perched atop her palm, Sabrina looked on in amused silence as a barefoot, jeans and t-shirt clad (and obviously ravenous) Jack made quick work of consuming his meal of a bleu cheese butter-topped Porterhouse and roasted vegetables. Poised to take a sip of his wine, Jack paused as he watched Sabrina rise from the table. “Where you going, Babe?”

“I figure I should go ahead and get out of this dress,” she reached down and slipped the Christian Louboutin stiletto off her foot, “since I won’t be on your arm dazzling the masses.”

“You dazzle me plenty, Bri.” He nodded as he savored a garlic-roasted new potato. “Plenty.”

“Wow,” Sabrina marveled as she returned to her seat, discarding her other stiletto, “when you said you were starving, Bauer, you were not kidding, huh?”

“When it comes to good food, I hardly ever joke around, Babe,” he answered in between bites of the expertly grilled tenderloin. “That’s especially true for steak.”

“Speaking of which. . .” Sabrina speared a piece of asparagus from his plate then cast a skeptical glance at the remnants of what was once a 1 ½” thick 18 oz. cut of beef. “Shall I call down and have the chef send up another?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Jack gave a lazy shake of his head as he dabbed at his mouth with a linen napkin. “For the night.”

“Ohhh, don’t say that,” Sabrina teased. Slowly, she raised the lid of the serving tray to reveal the hotel patisserie’s coconut foam & pecan-topped take on German chocolate cake. “And, yes,” she nodded, laughing knowingly, “it is as delicious as it looks and smells.”

“Hey!” she feigned outrage as Jack raised her hand to his lips. “That’s my line, Bauer.” Her faux protest wavered the moment she felt Jack’s mouth against the back of her hand, his lips softly grazing her knuckles.

“Tough, DeLane,” he cracked. “Besides, I’ve got lost time to make up for, remember?” His challenge-filled met and held hers. “We both do.”

If it was at all possible, it seemed his gravelly voice dropped an octave lower. The shift in his tone, the mood, immediately was followed by the darkening of his cerulean gaze to an even deeper more breathtaking shade of blue.

None of which was lost on Sabrina.

There it was again, she noted. That sensation of overwhelming heat; a flush of warmth that coursed through her entire being it seemed. She felt as if she was being branded. By now, she reasoned, she’d have thought she would be used to it.

Yet, each time it happened—and the occasions had been numerous since the night of their reunion—it felt like the very first time.

“I never did say I was sorry, did I?” The query was carried along by a tremulous breath.

“I don’t want an apology, Bri,” he answered. Absently, his thumb made soft, soothing sweeps across the back of her hand. “What I want. . .what I need, is to get us back. . .to us.” Unhurriedly, Jack rose from the table, drawing Sabrina to her feet as he did so. The entire time, his gaze never wavered. Not once. “You do realize you denied me your touch. . .everything. . .for the better part of a year? Actually, it was thirteen months, to be exact,” he said softy. “Three hundred ninety-six days.”

“Five hundred seventy thousand, two hundred forty minutes,” Sabrina added, quickly doing the math in her head. “Thirty-four million, two hundred fourteen thousand, four hundred seconds.” Slowly, she backed away from Jack, easing her fingers from within his in kind as she did so.

“That’s a whole lot of making up to do, Babe.” Just as Sabrina was turning away from him and poised to slip from his grasp, Jack tightened his hold on her fingers. In the seconds it took her to realize her attempt at flight had been halted, Jack had already closed the distance between them; her back to him as he gently but insistently leaned in and pressed his body against hers.

“I. . .thought. . .you were stuffed,” Sabrina managed. She fought to still her body’s response to the warmth of Jack’s touch as he began to unzip the designer garment that fit her as if a second skin.

“Turns out I do have room for dessert,” Jack allowed. “And what I have a taste for isn’t on a serving tray.” As he enveloped her in his embrace, Jack swept aside her lush tresses and set about allowing his mouth to dance along the expanse of the back of her now exposed neck, giving great and deliberate care to the spot he knew all but rendered her helpless to his advances.

“Jack, please. . .,” she moaned weakly. Trembling, her hands reached for his as she felt them come to rest at her abdomen.

“Yeah, Babe?” Jack smiled in response to Sabrina’s reaction as his mouth found her earlobe and began to mercilessly lave the sensitive flesh.

“Jack, promise me you won’t take all night to undress me. . .like before?” came her pleading query. Eyes fluttering closed she fought desperately against the urge to grind her rear against the increasingly evident proof of his arousal. “I don’t think I can take that tonight.”

“You have my word, Babe,” his voice was a low growl filled with promise as he lightly thrust against her, “I am not going to spend all night undressing you. . .” Jack allowed his teeth to faintly nip her shoulder.

As she turned in his embrace, bringing her head to rest upon his chest, all but melting against him, Sabrina missed the feral smile that once again turned up the corner of her lover’s marvelous mouth.