Tucker took measured breaths, concentrated on the woman across from him. The woman who had consumed his thoughts, his fantasies, since he'd first laid eyes on her that rainy day. Then he shifted focus to the endgame, and everything settled into place. A broad smile split across his square jaw.

He leaned forward, enthusiasm bright in his eyes. "You're even better than I remembered." His timbre was rough with admiration. He grasped her hand, pressed it to his lips, and brushed his chin across her tender flesh. "You don't know it yet, but you just sealed your fate, Kathryn James."

The gleam in her determined eyes matched his own.

"No you did not, Kat. Please tell me you did not dump a great guy like Grant Collins for that douche bag, Tucker Williams."

Cassie's drama queen crown sat firmly in place this morning, but the disillusionment shading her best friend's delicate features caused Kat a second of doubt. Until she remembered the excitement of last night. The fantastic hours spent with Tucker, talking, teasing, and laughing. They'd taken an unhurried stroll, hand in hand, to her apartment, neither of them wanting to part ways any sooner than necessary.

A rush of heat surged through her, melted away all reservations as she recalled the atmosphere of time standing still while outside her apartment last night, with him. The tangle of regret and desire in Tucker's eyes. The moonlight and shadows sweeping over them through the sway of old tree branches, fanning the scent of early spring in the evening breeze. The brush of his fingers at the side of her face, their foreheads pressed together, not a sliver of light between their bodies as he'd held her close, about to kiss ... when a group of rowdy, cursing teenagers had stormed by. The charmed moment had vanished like warm breath in the chill of winter.

Just as well, best to take it slow. No need to make a fool of herself again.

Kat searched her friend's face for any shred of support. She'd anticipated Cassie not taking the news well. After all, she'd been at ground zero, had witnessed the Tucker Williams fallout: shattered glass, yelling, tears, shame, and anger, not to mention the renewed, ultimately successful search for a new investor. Cassie Porter had been a great friend. No judgment, no criticism. She'd taken Kat's side without hesitation or question.

Cassie and her fiance, David, had fallen head over heels for Grant-best friends and couples heaven. To make matters worse, Grant and David had recently become squash partners. Kat's train of thought skidded to an abrupt halt from the visualization of Tucker crammed on a squash court chasing after a little ball-a ridiculous image she shoved away in the never-gonna-happen drawer.

The two couples, alike in so many ways, had spent a good deal of time together at nightclubs, cheering at Yankees games, supporting the opera and ballet, and dining at trendy gourmet restaurants. The connection had been a quick, easy fit for all of them, comfortable from the beginning.

Comfortable. Followed by: boring.

Frustrated, Kat rested her head against the back of her chair and searched the ceiling in her office for clarification.

"I know it doesn't make sense, Cass. I never expected to see him again, but then he showed up and ..." She looked past Cassie, unable to find the words to make her friend understand.

"And what? You dump Grant Collins? Grant freaking Collins? For some guy who clearly isn't your type, let alone worthy of you. Some guy you had hot sex with for one night. The same guy who lied to you?" Cassie's hands dropped to her lap, and she fell back against her seat with a disappointed sigh. "Does this have anything to do with Grant not being in a rush to jump your bones?"

"You know better than that." Kat scoffed at the absurd question. "I told you before, he felt more like a brother sometimes-bit of a mood killer for me. Even if we weren't having sex, Cass, the chemistry still should've been there." Like with the mountain man, who had her swimming up to her eyeballs in his addicting hormonal cocktail.

Cassie looked unconvinced.

"Is this Tucker simply a means to an end? A way for you to keep from falling back into old habits with you-know-who?"

"Okay, now that's just crazy talk."

"Really? Let's back up. Dan called you on New Year's, sent you flowers for Valentine's, and had balloons and your favorite cake delivered for your birthday. That's not a man who's moved on. That's a man who believes you're going to cave at some point."

Kat smacked her lips together, perturbed. "I guess he has stalker tendencies? Look, we have a long history, Cass. You know that."

"I never understood the relationship you two-"

"You just never liked him after you thought you'd caught him cheating on me back in college."

"True. I'll admit the whole open-relationship thing has never been in my vocabulary, but you two lasted longer than most marriages. So, who am I to judge?" She studied Kat. "But I still can't believe it was your idea back then, not his." Cassie paused as if she hoped Kat had a juicy, long-awaited confession to make.

"You've known me forever. Why's it still so hard for you to believe? I didn't want to be exclusive with anyone. College is the time to get your freak on, not mate for life." Her face lit up with a clever grin. "Unless your name is Cassie Porter."

Cassie's chest jutted out in offense. "I had plenty of boyfriends back in the day, thank you very much."

"Yes, you certainly had your share of," Kat air-quoted, "boyfriends. I think the euphemistic phraseology is prolific serial monogamist."

Cassie pushed over Kat's cup filled with pens and pencils, spilling them across the desk and onto the floor. "Oops. Sorry about that."

They giggled in unison. Good times. Good memories.

"Well, all I know is Dan Walsh must've thought he'd died and gone to heaven when he met you. Although there were times back then I wondered if he was really on board with your arrangement."

"Of course he was."

Cassie's face scrunched in doubt. "Well, you knew him better than me."

The idea of the feelings he'd admitted to her over a year ago possibly extending as far back as their college days bothered Kat. She had flaws. Self-absorption among them, but she wouldn't have missed obvious signs. And Dan had always spoken his mind about everything. No, Cassie was wrong.

She had to be.

"But I still say he's behaving now like a man who's infatuated. Just because your feelings haven't changed doesn't mean his didn't at some point." Humor lit Cassie's face and her hand covered a giggle. "Oh my God, can you imagine if he ever gets wind of Tucker? Sees Tucker?" Now she laughed out loud. "Dan Walsh's ego could never withstand it. He'd see it as a cry for help. He'd lock you in a room and perform an intervention."

"Yeah, and knowing him, it'd be a naked intervention." Sexual compatibility had never been their problem.

The friends laughed, tensions eased.

"I haven't initiated anything with him, Cass. And I don't intend to, either. We, whatever we were, had to end. He'll get the message, when he's ready, and then he'll move on."

Cassie had warned Kat over the years that having Dan on speed dial prevented Kat from taking other men and relationships seriously; she'd never have to build a real relationship with Dan always lurking in the shadows ready and willing to pick up the slack. So, Cassie had swallowed her own reasoning without question when Kat repeated it to her last year, instead of discussing Dan's sentimental admissions.

"Your mother is going to have a stroke over this. And I'm talking about both decisions: dumping Grant and dating Tucker."

Cassie was right. Her family absolutely loved Grant, especially her mother. The matriarch's devastation over the loss of her perfect future son-in-law was inevitable.

Kat shook her head but couldn't quite clear the haze. In the last forty-eight hours, her life had flipped upside down. This dazed state had only occurred twice in her life, and the same man was responsible both times.

"I know this is out of character for me. I never thought I'd be interested in a man like Tucker. Cass, you and I have known each other since third grade. You know the men I've dated in the past. You know the type I always go for. We both know it's never been a man who looks or sounds like Tucker Williams.

"I wish there was something I could say to make you understand. For the first time, Cass, I'm not really sure what I'm doing, or why I'm doing it. I just feel like," she hesitated, trying to find adequate words, "I have to. I have to know. I don't expect you to understand it. Just be my friend and don't fight me on it, okay? I need one person in my corner on this."

Cassie's expression warmed, but it didn't hide the concern in her eyes.

"I'm always in your corner, Kat, and I always will be. Just don't let this douche-" she stammered, "guy, hurt you again. Okay? Be smart about this."

"I will, Cass. You have my word." A vow made to her friend, and to herself.

"The last time I went to a baseball game was," Tucker paused, digging around in his memory bank for an answer, "hell, I guess when I was a kid." Nostalgia mixed with the abrupt realization of the unnoticed passage of time crisscrossed his face. Then his focus returned to the present, and he rewarded her with the sweetest smile she'd ever seen. A smile with the power to weaken her knees and rev her heart.

"Your Yankees hat suits you, but I figured you more for a cowboy hat."

"Yeah, I have one of those, but I like this better." He gripped the blue bill and gave it a tug.

A shiver raced up her back at the huskiness in his tone, the need filling his eyes. God, it had been a long month. In a good way, a way she hadn't expected.

"Had a great time today, Kat. Just like I always do with you." The tenor of his words made her flesh tingle with yearning.

She tried her best to tamp down the feelings she'd developed for him-the ones growing stronger and increasingly difficult to ignore.

"Yeah, me too," she said with an awed whisper. She drew a deep breath. "In fact, I'd say the past few weeks have been great. We've covered a lot of ground, done just about everything." She paused, her focus lingering on the sexy curve of his lips. "Almost everything ..."

Since the first night when they'd almost kissed outside her apartment, she'd decided to stick to holding hands, nothing more. She'd never known how to do anything part way. It was all or nothing for her, in everything, and always had been. And she already knew there would be no stopping at a kiss for her, not with him. The promise she'd made to Cassie, and to herself, was real, necessary even. She needed to be smart about this. Think it through-beyond the great sex. Yeah, she'd tried him on for size on a whim all those months ago, and he'd fit.

He had fit perfectly.

"Tell me, Tucker, what's your favorite thing been so far? Besides the obvious." She gave him a quick wink and playful grin.

"Well, the obvious aside," the corners of his eyes crinkled, "I'd have to say the horseback ride in Central Park. That was a really nice surprise." His fingers quickly skimmed her cheek, then dug back into the front pocket of his jeans. "And I think we've pretty much traveled the world when it comes to food. Can't really get that back home, not the variety anyway." He paused, seemed to turn over their time together in his head. "That clambake was fun. We rode a bus. What was it called?"

She stood mute, time had stopped, the thump of the pulse at her throat counting the missed seconds. She stared like a fool, fantasizing, while he waited for an answer. The telling look on his face said he knew exactly where her mind had drifted. She glanced away, cleared her throat. "The Jitney. We took the Jitney to the Hamptons."

"Right. The Jitney ..." His voice faded away, the X-rated movie playing in his head evident on his face.

Kat's body flushed with heat as she battled the impulse to climb him, wrap her arms and legs around him, devour him, right outside her apartment where they stood.

He'd shown up almost a month ago on her doorstep unannounced, asking for a do-over. He had to be missing his horse ranch, the green open spaces and clean air. Shoulder-to-shoulder people must be a big adjustment for a man used to spreading out, not a neighbor in sight for miles. But here he stood, patient as ever. He hadn't complained, not once. He'd been a good sport from the beginning, seemed to have settled into his temporary city life.

"What about you?"

She looked confused. "What? What about me?"

Her concentration had jumped ship, left her to sink or swim. She knew this tango was headed upstairs, quickly. And she didn't feel like stopping the dance anymore.

Being with Tucker these past few weeks had calmed her, shifted the gears inside. Her life had always been insanely busy and mostly about meeting self-imposed goals and feeding her ambitions. She'd never had much downtime in her life; she'd always moved at a fast pace, much like the city itself. Lead, follow, or get out of the way.

But with Tucker, for the first time, she had a reason to slow down. She'd been cutting out of the office early, working less, and playing more. They seemed to move along together in a bubble where time advanced in a slower gear. She found herself laughing more and seeing familiar things with fresh eyes. Really seeing them.

She wanted-needed-more of those days.

Tucker's expression creased in amusement, apparently enjoying her internal struggle. "What's your favorite thing been so far?" He bit his lips together but failed to stop a killer smile. "Besides the obvious."

She chuckled. "Well, I am rather fond of the cornball pictures of you at the wax museum."

"Yeah, that was a good time."

Their laughter filled the shrinking space around them.

"They're taped on my refrigerator."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She wet her lips. "Would you like to see them?"

A booming clap of thunder punctuated her question but didn't break the grip of their eyes locked on one another. Tucker's face was now etched with the hard angles of a man ready to unleash all the hunger he'd been holding back. The air around them charged with energy, the coming storm and their proximity responsible for causing the disturbance.

Kat scanned the darkening sky. "It's going to rain anyway, we should get inside ..." Her tongue darted across her lips and he zeroed in on her mouth.

"Yeah, I'd like that, Kat." His eyes grew darker, lids heavier. He slid his rough hand around hers, squeezed it. "Lead the way, sweetheart."

"Oh, I intend to." Tucker's expression smoldered with approval.

They ran steps two at a time and caught the door as another tenant exited. The wall of mailboxes slid by in a blur as they pushed through a second set of doors. Kat headed up the narrow stairs with Tucker close behind, his eyes glued to her ass filling out the cut-off jean shorts. With hormones in high gear, the third floor walk-up might as well have been at the top of the Empire State Building.

Almost to the third floor, a noisy group, oblivious to the world around them, shoved by. Kat fell back against the hot, hard body behind her. Tucker held her tight, shielded her from the onslaught with the angle of his shoulder.

"Oh, sorry, dude. My bad," someone inside the cluster said.

Kat caught sight of the threat obvious on Tucker's face.

"Wow. Getting a New Yorker to apologize. I'm impressed."

Tucker brushed his whiskered cheek against hers and smiled. "You're about to be even more impressed, sweetheart," he said, with a growl next to her ear.

He gripped her leg and skimmed his hand up her inner thigh, slipped his thumb under the fringe of her shorts to tease her hypersensitive skin. A soft moan caught in Kat's throat. She needed to get this bad boy inside her apartment-and inside her. She rubbed against the hardness pressed at her backside, then broke free, turned to face him. She backed her way up the stairs. Tucker took each step toward her, slowly, assuredly, his predatory focus never leaving her.

Nature's dance continued down the hall until her back pressed against the door, Tucker mere inches from her, his hot breath scraping across her flesh. His spicy scent tickled and toyed with her senses, her memories. She pulled the key from her bag and he slipped the cool metal from her hand, pulled her snug against his body, and unlocked the door. Once inside, she locked the column of deadbolts-habit for a single girl in New York City.

Tucker tossed his Yankees hat on a nearby chair and chuckled suggestively. "You just locked yourself in with a whole lot more danger on this side of the door than out," he said, his husky voice rich with dark promises.

Before she could respond, his mouth covered hers, kissing her hard and deep, their tongues tangled. Reaching out blindly, he dropped the key on the table next to the door. Kat chucked her bag on a nearby sofa. Then his strong hands gripped her face, pulled her even closer.

The air around them grew hot and humid. Kat made an impatient grab for the button and zipper on his jeans, skimmed her hand inside, ready for a handful. Tucker grabbed her wrists before she could feel him, pulled her arms over her head, and pinned her against the door.

His lips pulled back from hers. "Not so fast. I want to take my time with you, Kathryn James."

One strong hand shackled both of her wrists, the other hand slid down her arm, leaving a fiery trail on her flesh. She fisted her hands and stomped her foot in frustration at her own boiling urgency, at her aching need to touch him.

He smiled against her lips. "Patience, sweetheart. You'll get what you want. I promise." His tease burned hot next to her ear as his hand curved around the swell of her breast, then claimed it.

She moaned from his touch, tried to organize the collision of thoughts, maintain an ounce of control, which was damned difficult to do with him groping her.

"Let go of me, Tucker. You're not playing fair." She tried to wriggle away, tried her best not to sound as desperate as she felt.

His tone told her she'd failed.

"Not gonna play fair, Kat." He bit at her lobe. "I'm on top this time." He paused with heavy breaths. "But I can help you out ..." His hand traveled down her body, slid between her legs, and lifted her, for only an instant.

Kat gasped, dropped her forehead against his firm chest. He nuzzled against her hair, inhaled her scent. The throbbing dug even deeper, building to a new high. She buried her face against Tucker's chest, muffled her moans, her desperation, from the stroke of his fingers over the seam of her shorts.

"Don't fight me. You know you want this." He warned next to her ear. "Let me give it to you." Patience lost, Tucker yanked open the button on her shorts and ripped down the zipper. His fingers slipped under her panties and plunged into her wet center.

He groaned in approval. "Damn, you feel good. You're on fire." While his fingers stroked inside her, his thumb circled and taunted outside. She couldn't fight it anymore. Didn't want to. "That's it, Kat. Give it to me. Just let go." Her knees weakened, legs turned to jelly.