Her skin flamed beneath his touch, but still her mind screamed "no." Even the fear of him thinking her a s.l.u.t couldn't force her mouth to form the word. She arched against him.

Alex fingers found and kneaded her breast through her blouse's silky material. His lips caressed the hollow of her throat.

She held her breath when he opened her shirt and dipped his hand into her bra. Her nipple hardened into a pebble almost as hard as the erection pulsing against her.

Her mother's voice echoed in her mind citing the old saying about not buying a cow but getting the milk for free. Cynthia garnered her self-control and placed both palms against his chest. She pushed him away, and pulled her gaping top closed. "Alex, we mustn't."

His eyes reflected the disappointment of rejection. "Why not?" His rapid heartbeat noticeably pulsated in his temples.

She sat, straightened her clothing and re-b.u.t.toned her blouse. "It's too soon. I'm not the kind to sleep around. I'm so sorry I let things go so far, but...."

Alex stood and extended a hand to help her to her feet. Head down, he adjusted his pants, but evidence of his l.u.s.t still showed.

He lifted his gaze. "No, I'm the one who's sorry, Cyn. I guess I just got carried away. I've wanted to kiss you since the first day we met. I didn't really plan on a.s.saulting you like this."

Cynthia splayed her fingers through her disheveled hair, lifting the thickness off the back of her heated neck. "a.s.saulted? I didn't feel a.s.saulted. I was enjoying the moment as much as you. I just want your respect. It's important to me."

Alex placed his hands on her shoulders. "I do respect you. Maybe I'm the one who should be worried, huh? Do you still respect me?"

Cynthia smiled. "Of course I do. But maybe we should call it a night."

"I think you're right. It's late and we both have to work tomorrow." He tucked the back of his shirttail into his trousers. Thanks for going to dinner with me."

She walked him to the door, her hand on the k.n.o.b. "I had a good time. Thanks for being so understanding."

"Wait," she whispered, planting her hand in the center of his chest. "Did you hear something in the hallway?"

He opened the door and looked left and right then shook his head. "I don*t see anyone. What did you hear?"

She shrugged. "Guess it was my imagination. I thought I heard someone hurrying away. Anyhow, thanks again for the date.. It was fun." She stepped toward him.

Alex bent and brushed her lips with a light kiss and stepped out into the hall. Before she could close the door, he gave it a gentle push. "Would you go out with me again on Sat.u.r.day if I promise to behave? I'd love for it to be sooner, but since we both work..."

"I'd love to go."

And maybe she didn't want him to behave. She stowed her thoughts and smiled.

Chapter Four.

Cynthia woke to sunlight streaming through the faded curtains. At first she panicked. Had she overslept? Her heartbeat slowed with the realization today was Sat.u.r.day.

Smiling at the thought of seeing Alex again, she anxiously pushed aside the blanket, sat on the edge of the bed and stretched her arms over her head. A small squeal escaped when she opened her mouth in a wide yawn.

Her thoughts flashed back to their last encounter and she shivered. He caused stirrings she hadn't felt in years since Jimmy Page, her first true love in junior high, or so she thought at the time. He'd pulled her behind the heavy film curtain in Mr. Cook's cla.s.s and planted a big, sloppy, wet one on her. Her first real kiss, and with nothing to compare it to, she only knew she wanted another one. Her heart had raced and her tummy fluttered. That moment was a feeling she never wanted to forget, even though she later found out Jimmy ate dog food sandwiches and thought there was nothing strange about it.

Then, she had her first official date in high school. Kevin Smiley; now that boy could kiss. Holding herself in check proved harder than she expected when he parked the car on a romantic overlook and began nibbling her neck, but when he slid his hand a little too far up her skirt, her mother's words echoed in her head, "Good girls don't let boys take liberties," and Cynthia had pushed him away. Instead of the respect she expected, he immediately drove her hope and never called again. She'd already let Alex push her further. Would he react the same way? G.o.d she hoped not, after all, they were adults.

Her bladder begged to be emptied. She set thoughts of romance aside, donned her fuzzy slippers and headed for the bathroom.

Cynthia came back from nature's call brushing her hair and sat on the edge of the bed. She leaned over and let her long tresses dangle while she worked through the snarls. Her thoughts strayed to Alex again. He hadn't called and she wondered what he had planned for the evening. Her preference: staying home, having dinner and cuddling. What could be better than that? He had promised to behave but she wasn*t sure she wanted him to. Those romantic thoughts were interrupted by the ringing telephone. She straightened, tossed her hair back and reached for the cordless on the nightstand.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi, it's Alex. Are we still on for tonight?"

Her smile blossomed. Like he even had to ask if their plans were still intact. She didn't dare admit she couldn't stop thinking about him, and as usual, struggled to tamp down her eagerness. "Of course. I've been looking forward to it."

"So, what would you like to do?" he asked.

"Did you have something special in mind?"

"Just spending time with you, but I'm willing to do whatever you'd like."

"How about you come over to my place and I'll make dinner again." She tried to sound like the suggestion was fresh and not pre-planned.

"That sounds good to me. What can I bring?"

"Now that I know you aren't a wine person, if you want beer, bring it!"

"What time?"

"How about sevenish?"

"Sevenish? What time is that exactly?"

She chuckled. "Anytime around seven."

"Okay. I'll be there at one minute after." He chuckled.

"My, aren't you specific. I was giving you some leeway, but now I know exactly when to expect you, so see you then." Despite her attempt at humor, her heart raced with antic.i.p.ation she couldn't control.

"Can't wait." Alex made smacking sounds. "My mouth is already watering."

Cynthia hung up and danced a little jig. Alex had agreed to her idea and she couldn't be more pleased. But she nibbled her bottom lip, recalling his last words. What exactly was he hungry for? Her mother's caution "just one weak moment...." rang loud and clear in her mind. A mere thought of him caused Cynthia to go weak all over...so much for one moment.

Cynthia stood at the sink washing Romaine lettuce. The evening's menu consisted of Caesar salad with French bread, and the delicious aroma of broiling chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s replaced the apartment's musty odor. Aware she'd served chicken last time, she hoped he wouldn't notice. Her culinary skills needed vast improvement, especially in meal planning. The difference between cooking for two as opposed to satisfying her own likes didn't leave much room for variation without a special shopping trip and a fuller wallet.

The table was set and Cynthia was dressed and ready. The clock read five minutes 'til seven, and dinner was almost done. She dried her hands, used her fingers to fluff her hair then perched on the edge of the couch to wait. Despite this not being their first encounter, she had the jitters.

At two minutes past seven, a knock sounded on the door. She jumped to her feet, admonishing herself to slow down and get past the anxiousness that betrayed her feelings at every turn. She glanced down for one final check, making sure she hadn't spilled anything on herself, then sauntered over and opened the door. Still, her fear made her peek past the safety chain before she removed it. His handsome smile greeted her and sent warmth radiating through her.

"Hi, Alex. Come in."

He handed her a six-pack. "Do you have room in the fridge for these?"

"Sure." She walked in that direction. "I haven't shopped for a couple of weeks so there's nothing but room. Sit down and I'll bring you a bottle."

Alex sat on the sofa. "Are you impressed?" he called to her. "I remembered where to sit."

She popped a bottle cap free then glanced over her shoulder. "Good choice." She crossed over and handed him a beer. "Here ya go."

He toyed with his collar. "You know, I was ready a lot earlier, but I waited until after seven like we discussed. It took forever for time to pa.s.s, and I kept thinking, what's the worst thing that could happen if I came over early? I decided I didn't want you to think I was anxious. Don't want you taking my attention for granted."

She grinned. "For your information, you were a minute late, but I forgive you." What she really wanted to tell him was that she felt exactly the same way.

His light-blue Polo shirt made his shoulders look particularly broad. She yearned to rest her head against one. Stonewashed Levi's jeans hugged his muscular thighs and outlined a rather large bulge a bit further up. Her face heated as she realized she was staring at his crotch.

Whipping her glance up, she diverted her gaze toward the kitchen. "Oh, my gosh, I forgot the chicken."

She raced to the stove and pulled open the broiler door. A blast of heat hit her in the face. "Oh, thank goodness, dinner isn't too badly singed." She flashed a sheepish smile at Alex. "We were going to have chicken Caesar salads, but it looks like now we'll have Cajun-chicken Caesar salads. You know ... blackened like Cajun's prepare their food? Just pretend you're in Louisiana and you'll feel right at home." Hopefully he appreciated the joke because she wasn't sure how much he'd appreciate dinner.

Alex pulled out her chair and stood behind her while she sat. As he pushed her forward and under the table, he bent and grazed the side of her neck with a light kiss, then went and took a seat across from her. An excited shudder pa.s.sed through her, and she quickly picked up the matches next to the candles. "What good are candles if you don't light them?" Her giggle made her nervousness too apparent...at least to her.

He reached and plucked the matchbook from her hand, and a schoolgirl shiver drifted from the point of contact to her very fingertips. Captivated by his manners, she watched as he lit first one candle and then the other. When he pursed his lips to blow out the igniting flame, she fought the desire to pucker her own and lean across the table for a quick kiss. Mother would be appalled at this new found brazenness.

He returned to his dreary apartment and sagged onto the couch. His gut fisted with anger. The two of them were together again. As much as he despised cops, he hated the blonde b.i.t.c.h more. Images of them embracing and sucking each other's tongues turned his stomach. The idiot probably wasn't even aware how she worked her wiles to entice him into a pa.s.sionate frenzy.

Pounding his fist on his knee, he grimaced, not at the pain but with determination. There was only one way to save his fellow man and it fell directly in his lap.

Alex's fork clanked against the bottom of his empty salad bowl, and he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

Cynthia tensed, waiting for him to comment on dinner.

"Do I have any charcoal in my teeth?" He displayed his pearly whites in a wide smile.

Cynthia threw her napkin at him. "Oh, it wasn't that bad ... was it?"

"No." He grinned. "Everything tasted fine. I was just kidding because I knew you were stressing over the chicken."

"I'm usually a pretty good cook, but someone was distracting me." Making a face at him, she stood, cleared the dirty dishes from the table and put them in the sink.

"Are you saying that you burned the chicken because of me?" Alex called after her.

She turned and put her hands on her hips. "Make up your mind. Either it was burnt or it tasted okay. Which is it?"

She started to fill the basin with water, but after holding her hand under the faucet for a time, decided waiting for hot water might take forever. She swished the soap around in the half-filled sink and gave up. Besides, she hadn't planned to wash them now, anyhow. She had a better way to spend her time.

Alex pushed his chair back and stood. Taking his beer with him, he walked to the sofa. "Let's just forget about the chicken. Really, it tasted great." He patted the cushion next to him. "Come and sit."

Cynthia dried her hands then walked to the divan. Alex's arm rested along the back, a definite invitation to snuggle. She sat and pulled her feet up, tucked them beneath her and leaned back in the crook of his arm. "I really am sorry the chicken got a little overdone. Promise you won't hold it against me."

He closed his hand over her shoulder. "The only thing I plan to hold against you is me."

"Oh, really?" she said, not sure if he kidded her or not.

He put his beer on the table and pulled her into an embrace. "Yes, really." The s.e.xy timbre of his voice made her shiver.

Before she could speak, he kissed her.

Her eyes closed and her lips parted to allow him access. She shuddered when their tongues touched. Words of caution played in her mind, but any restraint she had melted away as his kiss deepened and stirred her embers of pa.s.sion into flame. She had waited all week just to savor his kiss.

Alex stretched out alongside her and snaked a cradling arm under her head. With his free hand, he traced her body's curvature, slowly moving his hand along the side of her breast, to her waist, and along the swell of her hip. A warming sensation lingered wherever he touched.

For propriety's sake, she should push him away and get up, but every nerve in her body tingled with want for him.

When his body arched away, she opened her eyes. With lips still locked to hers, he stretched toward the end table with a reach not quite long enough to turn off the light. The lamp craned in the opposite direction, and while grappling to keep it from falling, Alex's fingers grasped the ancient fixture's frayed cord.

Amidst flickering light, shooting sparks, and the shattering of gla.s.s, Cynthia contorted. She closed her eyes as a stinging electrical current coursed through her, arcing her against Alex. The powerful discharge bound them together by pure force.

Her eyes, the only part of her body she could voluntarily move, flew open in wide amazement. Nose-to-nose with Alex, she stared helplessly at him. Moments ago his luscious, blue eyes had been filled with desire, now they bulged in protest against the wattage. Suddenly, the room went dark. At last, the breaker had interrupted the current's flow.

Alex's hands and feet tingled, and it was hard to breathe. With his heart beating like a drum, and him being unable to focus in the sudden darkness, he shoved at whatever was next to him and heard a thud hit the thinly carpeted floor.

"Ouch!"

"Cynthia?" Confusion clouded his reasoning. The shrill voice coming from him wasn't his. The exclamation of pain sounded like him but he hadn't hurt himself. If he had, wouldn't he know it? Why didn't she answer him? "Cynthia?" he called out again.

He pushed himself off the couch, and felt his way across the darkened room, seeking the breaker box. He didn't feel quite right; nothing he could pinpoint. p.r.i.c.kles lingered from the power surge, and his feet ... He chalked the sensation up to the electrical shock.

With a jaw tense from worry about Cynthia, he groped until he found the closet, opened the door and patted the wall until he reached the spot where he expected to find the box. Nothing! With the dim moonlight reflecting through the window, his eyes quickly adjusted and he saw the metal outline. Funny, it seemed much higher than he recalled.

He stretched to open the cabinet and fiddled with the switches until he found the thrown one. After flipping it back into place, he walked over and turned on the overhead light. "There!"

He grasped his throat. The voice was clearly not his own, rather Cynthia's. But it couldn't be. "W-what the..."

The sight of himself sitting, dazed in the middle of the floor, staring up with arched brows threw him into a tizzy. How could he be there if he was here?

Alex shook his head in confusion, the shock must have been much stronger than he realized. His eyes surely were playing tricks on him. Was he having one of those out-of-body experiences, he'd heard about or had he just been shocked senseless? He looked down and gasped, seeing long, red nails and slender fingers ... on his hand. "What the h.e.l.l?"

The hair he ran those fingers through wasn't his! Unlike his short waves, he found long, thick tresses. Nothing made sense. His heart racing, he dared look down again. "Oh my G.o.d! What's happened?" he screamed. "I'm you!"

Looking dazed and confused, his body still sat on the floor, but jumped at his scream.

Realization suddenly showed on his face the face looking up at him. "Oh, my G.o.d, you just talked to me with my own voice, and ... and how can I possibly be here looking at myself over there? Oh, Alex, what's happened to us?"