She had prayed that an opportunity might pop up, that he would single her out for a conversation as he so often had, but he didn't come near her unless he had to. Finally, during the last break of the day, she gathered up her nerve and two cups of coffee and walked over to the piano where he was idly picking out a tune.

"I thought you might like some coffee," she began when his eyes fell upon her. He raised a brow and she blushed. They both knew she had no great tendency to worry about what he might or might not like.

"Thanks," he said briefly. He accepted the cup but set it down on the piano. His fingers continued to run over the keys. They seemed so large, long and bronze as they skimmed over the ivory.

"I didn't realize you played the piano, too," Bryn murmured, leaning against it and hoping her pose was sultry and not ridiculous.

Heglanced her way sharply. "Well, I do."

Not, "Yeah, well, I learned at school," or "It's an important instrument for any musician to play"--not anything that was conversational. Just "Well, I do."

He wasn't making it easy for her. But what had she expected after all this pure antagonism?

Plunge in and lie like hell, and do it well, she told herself. She stretched out a hand and touched his arm. He stopped playing, staring at her hand for several curious moments before raising his eyes to hers.

The irony of it was that she understood her antagonism, even if he didn't. Now, at this moment, she could see her folly so clearly. She had judged him by another man, and she had based her hostility on the simple fact that he was a man with whom a woman could easily--too easily--fall in love. And rather than take that chance, she had built a wall of ice. She still needed that wall, but she needed his trust more than anything else.

"Lee, I'm sorry," she murmured quickly before she could lose her nerve. "I mean about everything. I've been horrible to you since we met. I...I'd like an opportunity to change that."

At last he sat back, giving her his full, dubious attention. "Oh?" he queried dryly.

God, how she wanted to slap him! He was just staring at her with those golden eyes, his expression as hard as granite. She gritted her teeth and reminded herself that she had more at stake than even she could fathom.

"I..." Her voice started to fail her, but it was a blessing in disguise, for it gave her an idea for a new tactic.

"Oh, never mind!" she cried, allowing a trace of pathos to edge into her tone. Then she spun away.

It worked. She hadn't gone a step before she felt his hand clamp down on her shoulder. She was spun back around, and she allowed herself to fall against the warm breadth of his chest.

"All right, Bryn. What are you saying?" he asked. "That I'd like to know you better," she said without flinching.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."How long would she have to rot in Purgatory for a lie like that? She was breathless, which was no lie. But the effect he had on her was what made the description all the more unbearable. Yes! She had judged him wrong. He was a decent man, strong but often decent, often kind--as well as having that powerful... sexual draw that was almost overwhelming. Oh, God, she thought, it was getting worse and worse; if she was honest, she would admit that she cared for him. She couldn't allow herself to be honest--it would be a disastrous mistake. She had to maintain her walls. Adam!she reminded herself. It wouldn't be so hard to be deceitful, cold, hot--or anything. All she had to do was remember his sweet little face and she could do anything!

"I'll pick you up and the kids for a picnic or something on Sunday, if that's okay," Lee said.

Sunday?No, it was days away! She cleared her throat. Her voice was still husky.Very husky. As sensual as,..a practiced whore's. "You asked me over for a glass of wine. If that invitation still stands, I'd like to drive over tonight."

His brows rose again; she could sense his skepticism. But then he shrugged. "You're welcome anytime. We're not having a band practice tonight, so I'll be free."

Bryn swallowed and nodded. Now her voice seemed thin, as if someone else were talking. "I have to see if Barb can stay with the kids, but she promised that she would this week.Eight-thirty."

"Whenever you can come."

He released her,then dug in his pockets for a pencil. He turned back to the piano bench and found an old scrap of paper, scratched out an address and handed it to her.

"See you later then," he murmured. Andrew was calling to him. He stepped by her and Bryn realized that she was shaking again.

Ateight o'clockthat night Lee sat on his living-room sofa with his feet propped up on the coffee table, brooding as he stared at the glass of Scotch in his hand.

His eyes scanned the handsomely appointed room, and he scowled.

He knew someone had been in the house again. He had locked it securely when he had suddenly been called in to sign a contract amendment, but he was certain that someone had been in. He felt it. But there had been no way to get one of the others to house sit for all those hours, not when he wanted them to keep an eye on Bryn. He might still be going on something entirely crazy.

He sighed and glanced at his wristwatch.Eight-fifteen. She was due any minute.Which led to another dilemma. Why the sudden change in Bryn? He had wanted her since he had first seen her; his fascination had soon grown into something much greater. He should be enthusiastic and glad to know that she would shortly be here....

The pity was,he didn't trust her, or the situation, or something. Yet, he thought, smiling slowly, there had been no way for him not to accept the invitation she had given. She might be up to something, but he was enough the male savage to let her have her way until he discovered just what it was....

"Not a savage, just a fool!" he mocked himself aloud, raising his glass to the arrow collection that decked the wall."A fool who is definitely falling more than a little in love."

The doorbell rang, and he laughed at himself dryly as he rose. She was here.Early. He knew for a fact that she wanted something, but as he had promised himself, he was going to let her try to get it.

He wasn't quite as hardened and prepared as he would have liked to have been when he opened the door. Not when he saw her.

She had dressed the part.

Her hair was loose and flowing, curling and waving over sleek shoulders bared by the halter top of the backless sun dress she wore. It was perfect. Not overly dressy; casual, but completely feminine. The skirt was blue; it swayed about her knees while the tight waistline emphasized the beauty of her dancer's figure.

Her eyes were dazzling as she greeted him with a brilliant, smile. "Hi. I...uh...made it."

He stepped back and offered her a deep welcoming bow. "Then step into the wolf's den, Miss Keller." He chuckled softly as he saw her ivory skinblanche .' 'Just teasing, Bryn. But do come on in."

She stepped inside, and he closed the door behind her. She carried a soft gauze wrap, and he took it from her and hung it in the entry closet. She was gazing about the room when he turned back to her. "It's a beautiful place," she said softly. "Thanks.It's home." She laughed a little nervously.' 'I think I expected something different. Iron gates and a crowd of servants."

"I don't like a lot of people around," he said briefly. "I have a housekeeper who comes in daily, but that's it. Would you like a tour?" "Sure." He smiled. "Over there you will see the piano where I do most of my work in its initial stages. Over there you will see my desk. Over there you will see a small bar. What can I get you?" "Gin and tonic?" "With lime?" "Please." She was still standing in the exact same spot after he had mixed her drink. He carried it over to her, took her clutch purse and tossed it on the couch, and took her elbow.

"I thought you came willingly," he told her with one brow lifted sardonically high. She flushed, but he still sensed her unease. She took a quick sip of her drink and pointed to the arrows on the wall. "Can you really shoot those things?" "Yes, I can really shoot them." He felt an almost imperceptible shiver charge along her arm and he led her from the living room along the hall. "The kitchen and formal dining room are on the other side," he said conversationally. "Game room and den are down here." "Nice," Bryn murmured. "I like it." They started walking back. He felt he could hear the pounding of her heart more thoroughly than any drumbeat. She glanced up the stairway to the open balcony. "Gives you a good sense of spaciousness," she approved. "Want to see upstairs?" "Sure."

She preceded him up the stairway, pausing to stare down below. "This really should be in 'House Beautiful' or something," she said, offering him a soft smile. "Thanks. The length of this hallway is all bedrooms until you get past mine. There's a sound studio beyond it.""A studio?In the house?''"Umm. Come on, I'll show you."

The studio was fascinating. If Bryn hadn't had a million worries on her mind, she would have loved to have explored it thoroughly. It occupied more than half of the upstairs, the half that sat over the kitchen and dining room, she surmised. From the floor rose about four feet of handsome paneling; from there up, the wall was glass. From outside she could see the drums and an elaborate keyboard system. A number of guitars, zipped away in their cases, lay against the far wall. There were wires and speakers all about; on a back wall was another assortment of instruments: tambourines, wind pipes, several wooden flutes and some things she didn't even recognize. Within the glass-encased room there was another smaller room, housing all sorts of mechanical boards.

"We record some of our things right here," Lee told her. "It's a complete sound studio. And this--" he rapped firmly on the outer glass ''--is completely soundproof. We can play our hearts out and not even disturb the plants!"

"It's wonderful," Bryn murmured. "I had no idea you could keep something so complete in your own home."

He was standing right next to her. Close enough so that she could feel him.His energy, his heat...his fascinating masculinity. She felt drawn to him, like metal to a magnet, and yet she wanted to run as far as she could, before she found herself consumed by his fire. She couldn't run. She had to charm him, play the hunter rather than the hunted....

Not yet! Not yet! She was shaking and shivering; chills racked her, followed by that dizzying sense of heat.

Bryn swallowed, clenching her teeth, afraid suddenly that she would burst into tears. It seemed that it would be so easy right now to turn to him, to tell him the situation, to throw herself on his mercy and beg for his help.

No, no!she reminded herself painfully. She had been warned. Don't tell Condor; don't tell the police. She didn't dare tell him; she just couldn't take the chance. Not when the children had been threatened and she could still close her eyes and see the remains of what had been her darkroom.And Lee... If she told him the truth now, he would despise her for the deception she had already played on him. He would be furious; he would never cooperate. He would demand that she call the police.

No, she had to keep trying to seduce him. Well, not seduce him all the way. Just enough so that he would be willing to cater to her whims...

She turned suddenly, smiling at him. "What's behind this next door?" Nervously she opened it,then wished she hadn't.

It was obviously his bedroom.

Neat and sparse, but having a feel of the man. The bed was large, covered with an Indian print spread. Throw rugs picked up the browns and oranges of the pattern, and the room gave her a sense of basic earthiness--as well as something a little raw and primeval. Despite all the rock star trappings that came along with Lee Condor, you could strip him down and still find a man, strong in his own right.

She turned around to face him and saw that he was smiling with cool amusement. She had walked into his bedroom; he hadn't led her there.

"The doors are lovely," she said, wondering if he was aware that she had swallowed quickly before she could manage to speak.

"They lead to another balcony," He walked across the room and threw open the French doors. Turning, he offered his hand to her. She set her drink on the bedside table as he had, then followed him out.

The night was breathtaking. Thousands of stars seemed to glitter in the heavens, diamonds on black velvet. The air was pleasantly cool; she could feel it keenly on her bare shoulders and back.

And the balcony looked over a lustily landscaped pool, complete with a Jacuzzi that sent a waterfall spilling into the larger body of water.

A cry of real delight escaped her; the sight was beautiful. Garden lights in blue and green enhanced the mystical impression of a tropical lagoon; she would have loved to have forgotten everything and lost herself in the surroundings.

Bryn moved to the railing to fully see and appreciate the view. "Did you design that yourself?" "Yes."

"It's really..."

Her voice trailed away as she felt his hands on her shoulders. The caress was gentle, and yet the roughness of his palms seemed to emphasize the complete maleness of him. She felt that he watched the movement of his hands over her flesh, and that his eyes caressed her. His body was solid and hard behind hers; she could feel his breathing and his being.

And then he was turning her around. One arm slipped around her back; his free hand cupped her chin, tilting her head so that their eyes met.

Slowly he lowered his lips to hers. They touched down gently, persuasively, and yet with full, consuming purpose. Her lips parted to his, and his leisurely exploration continued. His tongue was rough velvet as it delved to find hers and gently duel. She found herself moving closer to him, feeling all of him with that kiss, the male power and security of his embrace, the pressure of his hips, the potency of his manhood. It frightened her; it fascinated her. It made her breathless as the night spun around her. The scent and taste of him, the wonder...

She could so easily be lost. So easily forget pain, forget the future. Forget that it would be easy to fall in love with him, love him deeply if she gave herself half a chance, and then knowa heartache as deep as her love, regret as bitter as his touch was sweet. Forget... Forget...the pictures!

Bryn placed her hands against his chest and at length broke the embrace, lowering her head against his shoulder,' then trying to smile enticingly as she met his eyes again. She needed to seduce; not to be seduced. If he had any more of her, he would have the power; he would have control of her senses, and his strength, if she played too far, was far greater than hers. You couldn't tease a man like this one....

"Go slowly, please, Lee?" she whispered shakily, but at least it sounded real. Her lips were moist and trembling; her head was spinning.

He smiled, releasing her, and at last she felt steady--and annoyed to realize that the kiss had played far more havoc with her senses than his.

"As slow as you like," he told her. She smiled again, moving away a bit. "Let's go back downstairs," he said. She nodded, collected her drink from him, took his hand and followed him out.

Lee showed her the large, modern kitchen, the handsomely appointed dining room, then led her back to the modular sofa. "Want your drink freshened?"

"Please."

A moment later he was sitting beside her again.Watching her. A little shiver rippled through her as she gazed back into his eyes. The gold seemed extremely sharp and alert. Did he know that she had come in pursuit of something?

"Tell me about yourself, Lee," she said hurriedly, taking a long sip of her gin and tonic. "Where were you born?"

"In theBlack Hills."

"You grew up there?"

"Some. But we spent a lot of time inNew York.You?"

"Born and raised inLake Tahoe." Bryn hesitated, wondering why she was asking the question.' 'Barbara said that you had been married...for five years. That you're a widower."

"Yes."

Just yes, nothing more.She didn't seem to be wedging her way into his confidence very well.

Lee was surprised when she turned to him slightly and touched his face, gently running her knuckles over the contours of his cheeks. Her eyes followed her movements; her lips were slightly parted, and though she had claimed she wanted to go slowly, she was very seductively poised.

Too seductively.He wasn't sure how far he could trust his control if she moved against him again, sleek, coming to him like an elegant kitten. She closed her eyes and came even closer, seeming to melt into his arms. He could feel the contours of her body, so gracefully sliding against him. And she was a very beautiful woman, especially in the physical sense. The breasts that taunted him were high and provocatively full. His hand moved to her invitingly trim waistline; the flare of her hip was an irresistible temptation...

She kissed him.Lightly. She had meant to move away quickly, he was certain, but he caught her and swept her long legs over his lap, imprisoning her in his embrace. He deepened the kiss and allowed his palm to move leisurely down her cheek to her throat, to cover and caress the swell of her breast....

He took his lips from hers, but kissed her cheek. His fingers tangled in the silk of her hair, and he kissed that ivory length, drawing lazy patterns with the tip of his tongue.

"Lee..."

"Hmmm?"

"We...uh...we still haven't talked much."

He stopped kissing her and stared into her eyes. There was a gentle, amused gleam in them as he cradled her close.

"Talk," he said softly. She didn't detect the note of suspicion and danger in his tone.

"I...uh..."

He tried not to increase his pleasant smile as she stumbled; he was moving his fingers higher and higher up the sleek,nyloned length of her leg. And it was obviously causing her distress. She was rigid, but she didn't stop him.

She cleared her throat. "I've been thinking, Lee. I really don't think I did you justice."

"Oh?" He started to draw lazy circles high on her thigh, moving intimately close.

"Those...pictures I took." She started as the casual graze on her flesh traveled to her inner thigh.

"Yes?The pictures?"

"I want them back, Lee. I owe you so much more. I can take a new set--"

His left hand stayed on her thigh. His right began to caress the base of her throat. "You want the pictures back, is that it, Bryn?" "Yes. I was being rather obnoxious that day, and I..." He was making it impossible to concentrate. "I think it influenced my work. I think I could do much better...for you."

"It's nice of you...to be concerned."

He lowered his head and kissed her again. She returned the kiss with all the emotion she could, stroking his cheek, edgy, but willing herself not to fight the intimacy of his hands. She explored the sensual line of his lips with the tip of her tongue,then joined him again in a passionate meeting of their mouths that allowed her hunger to soar with his.

They were both breathless as they broke apart, their arms laced around each other.

"Can I...take the pictures back, Lee?" she begged with a sultry look.

His eyes were on her, gleaming a cat gold. He smoothed a straying hair tenderly from her cheek. "How badly do you want them?"