He swept her up in his arms and carried her into the house, down the hall, and into his bedroom. Setting her down next to the bed, he cradled her face in his work-roughened palms, the hard calluses like little erotic stimulators against her skin.
"I've been on slow simmer all week," he said in a raspy voice. "Do you know what a controlled burn is?"
She shook her head.
"It's used a lot to manage forested areas and wide-open pastures like we have around here. When we're in a drought situation and there's a danger of fire, we burn off the waste and debris and manage it so it doesn't go wild. We keep the explosive nature of it under control."
"What does that have to do with us?"
His eyes were like twin flames boring into her. "I've been burning off my own wasteland this week to keep my fi
