“That’s the end of the last roll.”

At the sound of Adam’s deep voice, Mallory’s eyes popped open, dispelling the memory. He stepped from behind the camera and regarded her with an indecipherable expression.

The spell broken, heat crept up Mallory’s neck, although why she should be embarrassed puzzled her. She hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, she was trying to do something right. For Greg. Reliving memories, fantasizing, was perfectly normal. Still, she sent up a mental prayer of thanks that Adam couldn’t read minds. Or Greg, for that matter.

Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if Adam’s mind had been filled with similar sensual images while he’d snapped the photos. Probably not. The sexual fire that had burned between them had been short-lived and died out long ago. And while he held a special place in her heart since he’d been her first, the devastating ease with which he’d ended their relationship left no doubt she’d amounted to little more than a notch on his bedpost.

And now, here he was. Looking even more incredible than when she’d last seen him. And here she was. Wearing the three hundred dollars worth of La Perla lingerie she’d purchased to entice another man. A man named…um, Greg. Right. Greg.

With a self-conscious cough, she looked around for her robe. Perhaps Adam could read minds-not a comforting thought-because he plucked the pink terry-cloth garment from the chair next to his camera then walked toward her.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her the robe, his eyes alight with the hint of mischief she so vividly recalled, “although it’s a shame to cover up that lingerie.”

Whew! Who the heck had turned on the heat? Didn’t this room have air-conditioning? It was July for cryin’ out loud. Even though she already felt as if she were melting, she quickly slipped on the thick robe, wrapping the material around herself and belting the sash.