"Your home is beautiful," she said. "You live here alone?" The house had three floors four if you counted the stilts that put the house twelve feet off the ground. That area was covered with ornate latticework to hide the garage beneath.

He smiled. "Glad you like it." They strolled up the walk.

"You built it, didn't you. All of it yourself."

"Yeah. I started almost five years ago," Tyler said.

Without invitation, Lane moved up the Federal steps to the wide, wraparound porch. Although big enough to have tables and chairs, maybe a couple of swings, it was bare of furniture. The only decor was a forgotten fern drooping in the corner.

"It's gorgeous." The walkway and shrubbery was lit with tiny coach lanterns blending to a stone path leading off to the right and she a.s.sumed to the back of the house. What appeared to be a replica of an old carriage house was separated from the main house by a breezeway.

"That's your workshop, isn't it?" She pointed to the carriage house.

"Yes, it is."

"What to do make there?"

"I'm still doing some finis.h.i.+ng work mostly moldings. Want to see inside?"

Alarms went off. Inside in that big house alone with him? Her body was screaming, Oh yes! But her brain, thank heaven, was still in charge. "Another time, maybe."

"Come on in, Lane. Let me make some coffee."

She sighed, eyeing him. "Tyler, we both know what you want."

"I thought I was being subtle."

She laughed, short and sharp. "You? I'm not stupid. You just want to take me to bed."

He stepped closer, gazing down into her eyes. "I want to do more than take you to my bed, Lane."

Her insides clamped, blood rus.h.i.+ng in her veins, making her skin tingle with heat. It had been a long time, too long since a man had looked at her with such open desire. The heat of it filled her, swamping her with needs she thought she'd managed to block out. "We've only just met. Don't be foolish."

Tyler didn't understand it, either. His body wanted this woman. His surge of testosterone was demanding he show her the fun they could have under the covers in long, slow kisses and hot s.e.x. Desire was building to a height he'd never experienced before. He told himself it was the challenge she presented, that the harder she pushed, the harder he tried to get closer. He couldn't accept more than that and wouldn't. He was letting his body do some talking right now, but not his heart. That was staying out of the picture.

"I can't seem to help myself around you."

"At your age, you're blaming me for your raging hormones?" Lane said.

His brow furrowed and he saw something in her eyes he hadn't noticed before shadows.

"Take some aspirin and go to bed," she said abruptly, needing to get as far away from Tyler as possible. "I'm not getting into a relations.h.i.+p with you or anyone. I know I'm just a challenge to you, so please back off."

The bite in her tone caught him off guard. "Lane, wait. That's not true."

She moved to the steps. "Good night, Tyler."

Before she could take the first one, he was there, grasping her upper arms and drawing her back. Her hand clutched his waist for balance, and for a moment, they just stared at each other.

"Don't."

"Maybe you started out as a challenge," he admitted. "But that's changed." His mouth was close, the warmth inviting her. "Come play with me."

She made a little sound, weak and almost panicked.

For a second she imagined herself going with him into his house, into his bed. Lying with him naked on cool sheets. Being desired and sharing more than words and a dinner out. The rush of need charging through her and clawing for that sweet moment of explosion. But it would be playing to him, nothing more. A game. Lane had been the tool of someone's game before.

The reality of her life hung over her like a looming dragon. Dan Jacobs, the tabloids, the suspicion of Mafia ties that cloaked her family. Because the news had hit the papers a week before her spring fas.h.i.+on show, it had bled over to her career and ruined her. In a few days she'd gone from being the hottest designer in Europe and New York to being the joke of the trade.

All of it kept her from having more than a casual friends.h.i.+p with Tyler, and even that was dangerous. She could lose too much and she liked her safe little world, wanted to keep it. That Tyler might learn the truth and bring attention to her was bad enough, but being with him longer than necessary, opening her heart to someone again, was just too big a risk.

"I can't."

"You can." He laid his mouth over hers.

Lane felt the floor vanish beneath her feet, the world of sound and sight folding up around her and sweeping her into a coc.o.o.n. With his strength, Tyler kept her prisoner, his mouth moving in slow lush waves over her. Patient. Trapping her soul. His tongue skimmed her lips, then pushed between them. Her fingers dug into his waist as the world tilted.

Mama mia, she'd forgotten that men could kiss like this.

Chapter 4.

She was energy, pure kinetic energy, and with a kiss, she cooked him from the inside out. Slow and wet, the kiss turned rapidly stronger, pulling him into dark heat and evoking slick dreams of more. His imagination went crazy, thoughts of dragging her into his house, of stripping her down to her skin and making love to her in the foyer pelted him like hard rain. He wanted her right this second, and need rippled up his body in a hot charge. But he wasn't so caught up that he didn't realize one thing.

She didn't deny herself, but she didn't surrender completely, either.

He felt it; that she wouldn't sink into him, that she wouldn't touch him more than her mouth on his and her hand at his waist. She held herself back, and the thought of what it would be like if she didn't made him groan. He started to close his arms around her, push his hand into her hair. But she stepped back abruptly. Tyler felt as if his limbs went with her and experienced overwhelming disappointment.

She blinked and stared. Heat poured off her in waves with her labored breath, and by the look on her face, she was just as stunned as he was.

"No, Tyler."

"That felt like a yes to me, darlin'." He reached for her. "Come back here."

Her gaze searched his, quickly, briefly. "I can't do this, not with you," she said in a strained voice, then turned and hurried down the steps, then d.a.m.n near ran. He'd never had a woman head for the hills like that, and he frowned at her back. Her hair had come undone, tumbling over her shoulders as she climbed into her car. Seconds later she was pulling out of the driveway. She never looked up, never looked back. He knew because he watched her.

Tyler sagged against the porch post, raking his hand through his hair. He winced at the sore spot on the back of his skull. The pain was running a close second to the ache in the rest of him.

The rain started up again, and Tyler fished in his pocket for his house keys and went inside. He stood in the foyer, the house echoing with emptiness. And he felt as if he'd just let something wonderful slip away.

Lane braked at the stoplight and dropped her head onto the cool steering wheel. Get a grip. She swallowed once, twice, but it wasn't much help. Her insides were stinging with sensations, and her heart was pounding like a jackhammer, making her body hotter than it already was. And it was boiling. Leaning back, she blew out a breath and pulled at her scarf, then opened her jacket, fanning the lapels. Then she opened the car window to let in the cool night air. To no avail.

Her mouth was tender and swollen from his kiss. And from that one kiss, she knew she was in trouble. Tyler was imprinted on her.

It had been the look in his eyes that really struck home. He wanted her, and he didn't seem to care that she'd intentionally made herself look unattractive. That she hid behind a bun and big gla.s.ses and wore no makeup and mud-colored oversize clothes.

Yup, she was in real trouble. The disguise wasn't working on him. She wondered when he'd see through it completely and understand that she'd lied about everything.

That couldn't happen. She couldn't let that happen.

She didn't want Tyler to hate her and she had a sneaking suspicion that hiding her ident.i.ty and her appearance wasn't going to go over very well with him. But there were other things to consider.

Like Dan Jacobs. At any moment he could come rus.h.i.+ng back into her life and open up the chest of secrets and humiliation she'd left behind when she'd changed her name and walked away from her career and family. Dan Jacobs had been paid for a story, for the expose on her family's supposed Mafia connections. She'd intercepted a phone call at her own apartment that revealed exactly who and what he was. And why he'd seduced her. It wouldn't matter to anyone that the account books of Giovanni Wineries hadn't even hinted at money laundering. Her father had given the winery books to the FBI, she had given the agency hers, too. It had been hearsay, rumor, and it had ruined her. There was nothing to connect her family to the Mafia except a few paparazzi photos of her brother with questionable businessmen. Why her brother Angel was with those men was still a mystery to her, but regardless, Dan Jacobs would plaster lies across the papers and bring it all up again. He was that much of a snake. She'd lose her privacy. She wanted to yell at Angel for getting involved, however slightly, with the mob and not caring what it did to the rest of the family.

In her heart she believed Angel was innocent, but she couldn't let that mess touch Tyler, either. He was a nice guy. Stubborn, hardheaded, but oh man, he oozed s.e.x appeal. And she was falling for him.

d.a.m.n him for kissing her, she thought, stepping on the gas and heading toward home. It made her feel more alone than ever. Because if she wanted a real life, a private life without news crews, Dan Jacobs and his expose, she couldn't have anything more to do with a man who was newsworthy enough to bring attention right to her door.

As much as Tyler McKay was a danger to her privacy, all she wanted was to open the door and let him in. And that scared her the most.

Tyler threw down his pen and, bracing his elbows on his desk, gripped his head. After two days, the lump on the back of his skull was gone, but the soreness reminded him of Lane and kissing her. Heck, he didn't need a crack on the head to remember what her mouth felt like on his. Lush, full ... earthy. Just thinking about it made his muscles tighten and his blood simmer. He groaned and leaned back in the leather chair, swinging it toward the window. Beyond the gla.s.s, he had the most spectacular view of the low country, but it didn't keep his thoughts off Lane.

He wanted to see her.

And he didn't want to see her.

She was more than a puzzle, and that made her dangerous to the freedom he coveted. His interest alone was gaining speed. He knew that under all those ugly clothes and even uglier shoes was a tigress locked in a cage. The single kiss had told him that. And the temptation to see if he had the key was killing him.

But she wouldn't let him near again. She'd kept him at arm's length since their first meeting, made it clear that she'd wanted to be left alone. It was why she wanted to be left alone that intrigued him. He'd never met a woman who tried so hard not to be noticed.

Unlike his ex-fiancee, Clarice, who had wanted the world to see her and made a show of her entrance into a room just to get attention. Over the past two years, Tyler had asked himself what had made him propose marriage to Clarice. She'd had beauty and grace and had come from a good background, and he'd thought he truly loved her. But she'd lied about her love for him, and that was the deepest cut of all. After her betrayal, it hadn't taken long for the love to die, but the pain lingered. The humiliation of canceling the society wedding of the decade, stuck with him. All their plans had been part of her web of lies. A disguise to get what she wanted his family name, family money. The one thing he couldn't tolerate was lying.

He shook off the memories, and then thoughts of Lane instantly popped into his mind. She didn't care about his name or his money. She didn't even want him around long enough to get her car repaired.

That was Lane's allure. When a woman played hard to get, a man played harder to get her. He grinned at the thought. And if you get her, then what? he asked himself. Love her and leave her gracefully? What did that say about him? That he only wanted surface feelings from a woman? A little s.e.x and c.o.c.ktails?

He stared at his reflection in the window gla.s.s, disgusted with himself. Lane had more beneath the surface than he expected, and he'd sat at work for two days fighting the urge to go see her. Lane had a lock on him that Clarice had never had. Instinct told him to leave her alone. h.e.l.l, instinct told him to run like mad in the other direction. To let her go and keep that kiss as nothing more than a memory.

It would be wiser if he wanted to keep his heart out of play. He could do it. He could see her and date her. Wherever this was going, he wasn't looking for Mrs. Tyler McKay.

Man, when did you get so arrogant? The woman can barely stand being near you, and you're wondering if she has sights on marriage? And who's to say that it would lead to anything like that? Especially if she didn't want it to lead anywhere at all.

Even as a voice inside him said, Be afraid, be very afraid, Tyler swirled the chair around and tapped the intercom on his phone. "Martha, I'm going out to lunch."

"Yes, sir." A pause and then, "Really, sir?"

He smiled. "Yes, really." He understood her surprise. Lately he rarely left the office for anything but meetings.

"Shall I make a reservation for you?"

"No, thank you, but what's that restaurant, the one you and my mother rave about? The broken something?"

"Oh, that would be the Cracked Crab," his secretary said quickly. "I have a menu if you want me to call your order in so it's ready for you."

"Excellent," he said, glancing at his watch. Since Lane liked to keep her guard up, a little surprise was in order to bring it down.

Lane looked up as the bell over the door tinkled and Tyler strolled into her shop. Everything inside her went on alert. Dressed in a thousand-dollar navy suit, he looked good enough to eat. And d.a.m.n, when he was near, she was hungry.

"We're closed for the next hour," she said.

"I know."

He reached the counter and stopped, staring at her. Lane felt heat race up from her throat.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"Taking you to lunch."

"You should have called. I have plans."

He frowned. "With who?"

Her cat and paperwork, she thought. "I don't think that's any of your business, Tyler."

"After that kiss, I'm making it mine."

"Oh, really," she said through clenched teeth. "Well, you're wrong. A kiss does not mean I'm your business, and I don't have time for lunch. I close the shop because I use the time to catch up on paper-work." She gathered and racked papers to prove her point.

"Or hide," he said.

She looked up.

"Or run."

"I didn't run."

"Woman, you took off faster than a cat after a mouse, and you know it."

"I simply left."

"At marathon speed." He leaned over the counter. "You're afraid of me."