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a fancy dress shop. The top, too,” she said, thumbing the leather vest. The brass stud buttons wouldn't do right up and, unfortunately, left very little to the imagination. Taylor eyed her reflection in the full-length mirror—neither did the shorts. They were jailbait material.

"How women can wear these on bikes, I haven't a clue; my butt is blue."

"Sure is cute, though."

"You think?” Taylor twisted again so she could see her rear in the mirror.

"Oh, Lordy.” Heat scorched her cheeks, rising right to the roots of her hair.

"See what I mean,” Nita chuckled.

She sure did. Butterflies erupted into a tango in her stomach and beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead. She wiped the back of her palm across her eyes, pressing hard, willing the rampant wave of nerves in her gut to cease their frantic dance.

"Being a bad girl is hard work. Maybe I shouldn't go."

"Why not? You want to, don't you?"

Taylor nodded. She'd left her long hair loose and the thick tresses cascaded around her bare arms, and as it brushed against her skin, its texture sent a hot shiver up and down her spine.

That's excitement, and anticipation, her subconscious chided.

She did want to go. But for what reason? “Cade isn't interested in me. He would have contacted me otherwise.” Taylor heard the uncertainty in her voice. Nothing could cancel it out, and she'd been battling it for days.

Yet here she was, ready to roll.

Or fall.

Nita clasped her hand. “The truth is I don't know, and neither do you. Men are a stubborn breed. Who knows what Cade is thinking?"

"He wanted sex."

"So did you."

"I know. At first, but...” Love had got in the way.

"Oh, my goodness,” Nita slapped a hand on her forehead, excited eyes twinkling with excitement. “I've got it. You've fallen for him, haven't you? You're in love with the hunk."

Wordless, Taylor nodded.

"So what are you doing here? Go get him."

Lordy, this was way too hard. “What if he doesn't want me?"

"Oh, he wants you."

"Sex only. I don't want that, Nita. I want more."

"Then make him want more. Teach him to want more."

"Can I do that?"

"Sure you can. Why are you going to the bar? I mean, I presume it's Cade's bar you're going to?"

"What you mean is, why am I going dressed like this?"

"Uh huh.” Nita gave her the once over—again.

"They say a man lusts after what he can't have,” Taylor finally ceded.

"And you intend Mr. Harper to be drooling."

"Got it in one,” she smiled.

"Cool. Now would it be a good time to ask for a pay rise?"

Taylor laughed aloud, suddenly aware the rioting nerves she'd been battling a few seconds earlier had disappeared. Tonight was about her and Cade. She'd made her decision. She wanted to live.

Gathering her nerves she walked to the door.

"You're temptation all wrapped up in one, Taylor Sullivan."

"You think?” she said, loving for the first the time the freedom to fantasize, to let go, even if it was just a little.

"Cade is one lucky guy."

Hand on the doorknob, Taylor halted. “Cade might see something he likes, but until he decides what he really wants, then this package isn't part of the deal."

"So, go sock it to him, boss. Make him realize what he's missing, and what he could lose."

"But does he want it enough? That's the sixty-four million dollar question."

* * * *

The noise was the same. The crowd, even the gentle breeze embroidered with the salty tang from the nearby waves was the same. Everything was exactly the same.

Except you, Sullivan.

She was different.

She'd made an exciting, thrilling, but scary discovery and fallen in love with a man who actively shied from love.

Tonight, however, she was here to have fun, and if that meant she teased and taunted Cade into a spin, well and good. She wanted him to come to grips with what he could lose—had lost because of fear—unless he dug deep into his past. He needed to deal with it, before the future could begin.

"Hey, Taylor, looking for Cade?"

Taylor jerked back to reality, attacked by a sudden onslaught of nerves. She pulled the edges of her coat a bit closer, aware of her near nakedness beneath as the wool brushed against her overheated skin.

"Hi, Harry."

Harry Fontain had already cornered her elbow and was leading her inside, giving her no choice but to follow. But then, wasn't this why she'd come?

Harry scanned the bar. “Can't see him, maybe he's out back. Want me to check?"

"No!” Taylor caught his hand. “I mean, not right now. Leave him be. I thought I might um...” She spied the pool table. “How about a game of pool?"

"You play?” Harry seemed surprised, but then so was she. She didn't a have a clue how to play.

"Sure. I was brought up on the game,” she lied. “Come on, how about a little one-on-one?"

"That's basketball."

"Pardon?"

"One-on-one is basketball."

"Oh.” Damn. And she thought she'd been so clever. “Nevermind, you get my drift."

"Sure thing."

Taylor eyed the pool green with suspicion. The only time she'd tried the game, she ended up sending the pool cue through the green and been ordered out of the youth club.

"So, who starts?"

"Better take off your coat, this is going to be a hot game."

"Here goes.” Taylor undid the last button and let Harry lift the coat from her shoulders.

"Wowee. Does Cade know what you're wearing?"

"Should he?” She turned and flashed a bright smile over her shoulder toward Harry. The man's expression turned crimson. “Let's play, Harry.” And she picked up the cue stick, aware that as she circled the table, every man in the room eyed her from top to toe. The leather shorts rose up her rear, and she would swear the waistcoat was a size smaller than when she tried it on. Her breasts were almost popping out. Forcing back the tangle of nerves, she tried to wiggle them back in, without drawing too much attention.

Failed on that score.

Harry and his cohorts exhaled a collective breath of beer-tainted air.

Being ogled didn't feel great. In fact, Taylor almost turned tail and ran.

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