Alex's expression tensed noticeably. "My family's position in this community, any power they may wield, is only incidental to my participation in the study."

It was, ironically, his vehemence that convinced her. Earlier he had been in full command of his charm. Now, in the middle of the night, when they both should have been sleeping like so many of their peers, his shortened fuse was obvious. And she understood the feeling.

"I'm sorry. That came out the wrong way. I'm just so ... surprised to see you here."

"Didn't I imply that we'd meet again?" He seemed to regain his humor as his gaze held hers steadily.

"You implied a lot more than that! I'd pretty much written you off as a crackpot!"

His grin was slow and enticing. "I do like your humor." He paused. "Couldn't sleep either?"

"Afraid not. I've been up for a while."

"Reading anything good?" His attention shifted momentarily to the now-forgotten magazine by her side.

"Very boring."

Without quite standing, he moved forward. "Move over. You've got the best spot." He took her shoulders to shift her before she could reposition herself. As he slithered into the corner where she had been she looked at him in alarm.

"Now you've got it. That wasn't very fair. I was there first."

"But you've got something even better." In graphic explanation he drew her against him, his body giving her far more exciting support than the sofa ever had. His arm curved around her shoulder; before she knew how her own settled across his middle and she rested comfortably against him. His warmth was as much a relaxant as her deep-breathing efforts had been earlier. Surprisingly, she didn't resist the lure.

"Comfortable?" he asked softly.

"Ummm." The scent of him was all male, filling her senses with a creeping euphoria.

Later she was to wonder at her complacency as she lay against Alex, a devastating stranger who had proposed marriage at their first meeting. Now, however, the silence was restorative, filled with a contentment that she savored, regardless of whatever afterthoughts she might have. His breathing was steady, his hands undemanding. At length he spoke with a resonance that flowed soothingly through her.

"I like you this way."

"What way?"

"Undressed."

Alanna tilted her head back, only realizing that he wore a burgundy-colored robe of thick terry as her cheek rubbed against it. "I'm not undressed," she contradicted him staunchly. "I am very properly covered by several layers of fabric."

"But soft. So very soft," he hummed against her hair. "And I like your hair down." His hand moved to gently explore its length. "It's like silk-golden silk."

"One hundred brushings a night and very hard to control at times," she quipped lightly, unable to accept the compliment with the pleasure she felt.

"That's why you wear it knotted back? For control?"

"Among other things."

"What things?"

The faint frown that brought her brows together was hidden as she relaxed her head once more. "It's hard enough projecting an image of efficiency and professionalism at the office without having a loose mop to cloud the issue."

"Ah." He caught her gist instantly. "Your male colleagues. Then I totally agree with you. By all means tie your hair up during the day. As long as you wear it down for me."

"Hmmmm," she chuckled. "No glasses. Long hair. You've got a nearsighted witch."

"A very beguiling one..." he drawled, his fingers tilting her chin up so he could study her face. "A very beautiful one..."

She was mesmerized, able only to return his gaze, devouring his good looks with helpless greed. Why was he so handsome? Or was it all physical? There was that aura again-one that surrounded his entire being with a sensuality she could not deny.

Her lips felt parched, her mouth dry. Every nerve end tingled with awareness. She felt herself sucked into the depths of those dark, charcoal eyes-sucked in and consumed, no longer a separate entity. Was that what life with Alex Knight would be like-the loss of the identity she had worked so hard to establish?

With a flash of fear she tried to pull away. But he held her firmly, refusing her bid to escape. "Don't go. I'm no threat to you." It was as if he read her mind. "If nothing more, indulge me. You know how maddening it is when you can't sleep. I'm more relaxed now than I've felt since I woke up."

The last thing she wanted was to leave, yet the strength of his power over her was disconcerting. As to his argument-hadn't Ellen suggested that the participants of the study might help each other? Perhaps, she mused, if there was some distance-any distance-between them ...

"Just let me sit up," she suggested, her voice uncharacteristically wobbly. "I'll stay with you awhile."

His tone was mocking, yet he released her. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but, if I have no other choice..."

"You don't." Alanna sat now at arm's length. No part of their bodies touched yet, to her dismay, she was as aware of him as ever. Driven to break the bond of raw attraction that sizzled between them, she spoke quickly. "Tell me about yourself, Alex. I really know nothing about you."

One dark brow rose. "You did pretty well in the cafeteria."

"That was a game. Tell me something concrete. Like ... like..." she grappled with sanity, "... like what you do for a living."

"I thought everyone knew." His dry statement puzzled her.

"That's the second reference you've made in the past few minutes to your family's reputation. Is that bitterness I detect?"

Alex thought for a moment, as though he had never been put to this test before. "Not bitterness. Let's just call it ... resignation. I'm the third generation of my family in this area. It's often difficult to be preceded by someone else's reputation."

"I'm sure you meet the family standards," she offered in encouragement.

His gaze sharpened. "I meet my standards, or, at least, I try to. But I like to be judged on my own merits, rather than those of my family. Do you come from a large family?"

Alanna was unaware of his deftness in shifting the conversation back to her until well after she'd fallen into the trap. "No. I had no brothers or sisters."

"Are your parents living?"

The painful memory forced her to avert her gaze. "They died years ago-my mother, when I was twenty, my father four years later."

"Then you're alone?"

She smiled thinly. "Alone ... but not lonely, as the saying goes."

"You have friends?"

"My share. Mostly my work keeps me occupied."

"Tell me about your work."

Enough was enough. "Uh-uh. I asked you first. What do you do-every day?"

He looked at her evenly. "I head the Knight Foundation."

"Which means...?"

"Which means that I have a finger in a lot of pies at any given time."

Alanna grunted. It was like pulling teeth to get the man down to specifics. Was he always this closemouthed? Or simply with her? As though sensing her frustration, he yielded to her silent plea.

"Right now we're in the process of merging one of our electronics firms with two others. By forming a larger corporation we will have access to a nationwide network." The preoccupation of his gaze with her eyes suddenly ended. With slow deliberation he skimmed her neck and shoulders with his eyes, following the soft fabric of her robe to where her breasts swelled. Serious discussion was totally forgotten as Alanna felt the heat within herself begin to rise.

"Do you ... ah ... do the actual ... negotiating...?" She clutched at the conversation, fighting the honeyed currents which flowed around and about her.

His voice was low and at seductive odds with his words. "We have legal counsel for that. But I have to be on top of the legal counsel."

Her whispered "I see" fell victim to the web of arousal his gaze spun. His fingers moved to her shoulders, their tips drawing tiny circles on the silken gown.

"You look so pretty," he rasped as those fingers rose to thread through the hair that fell by her cheeks. "Do you always wake up looking like this-or did you do it just for me?"

"I didn't know you would be here!" she cried weakly, her sense of reason suddenly shaky. As his arm moved slowly to draw her closer she grew aware of its sinewed length, bared as it was to the elbow by the robe that barely reached to his knees. It had been bad enough when he had been fully dressed; this was sheer madness.

Alex had been right; she was different dressed like this. Her proper businesswear had been a shield, perhaps meager, but a shield nonetheless. In it she had known who she was and why she was here. Now she felt exposed-by far more than just the change of attire. Suddenly she felt unsure-and that made her angry. Moving quickly from his embrace, she stood.

"I think I'd better go to bed." Without looking back she crossed the floor and headed toward her room. She had not gone far enough, however, to miss his low-murmured "Chicken." It stopped her in her tracks.

Head low, she took a breath. On its own a smile stole to her lips. He knew just how to manipulate her. That challenge ... She simply could not turn down a challenge. Shaking her head in grudging admiration, she turned slowly to face him.

"What was that?" She cocked an eyebrow pertly.

Alex rose from the sofa and circled it to stand beside her. His eyes were dark with desire; it took every ounce of restraint for her to hold still. "I called you a chicken. You seem to take the easy way out when the going gets ... hot."

Her hands found her waist. "I'm not taking the easy way out. I'm simply taking the smartest way. As I recall, we're here for a purpose." Her words were spoken in self-reproach as much as to the dark form towering above her. "A love affair in the middle of a hospital lounge is a little ... tawdry." Miraculously, her voice remained steady, belying the quivering deep within.

"I couldn't agree with you more. Let's go. I'll put you to bed."

Before she could protest that arm was once more about her shoulders, burning through her nightclothes, fusing her to his side. Before she could withdraw they had reached her room. Before she could escape through its door-alone-he guided her in.

Then, before she could begin to argue, he pulled her into the circle of his arms. "This may be the best sedative in the world." And he kissed her.

3.

Naked was a mild word for how Alanna felt. It had little to do with her scant covering and everything to do with the raw vulnerability Alex Knight had uncovered. Her senses were stripped of all defense by the powerfully tender persuasion of the lips that covered hers, the hard male body against which his arms molded her.

"Alex, don't..." she gasped when he abandoned her lips to rain havoc along the sensitive curve of her neck.

"Alanna, do..." he echoed against her ear, nipping its delicate lobe before slowly working his way back to her mouth. "Show me one more time ... I can't quite remember how it was...."

On the verge of losing control, Alanna had no suitable retort. Instead, she gripped his shoulders for support. "I can't," she whispered, knowing that, once she began to give in to him, she would be helpless.

"Sure you can." He spoke with such gentle conviction that she had to listen. For while one part of her fought the incipient cry of desire that murmured through her body, the other part sought a rationale to permit its full and joyful expression.

His hands framed her face, tilting it up toward his as he spoke, his lips but a breath away. The dim light from the nightstand cast his manly features into bold relief, imbuing them with even greater positive force. "Forget who you are, what you are. Forget who I am, what I am." His tone was near-hypnotic; her eyes were glued to his commanding features. "Forget where you were today, where you are now, where you may be tomorrow. All that matters is this moment. Your woman to my man, my man to your woman. Give in, Alanna. Explore the feeling. It's new and wonderful."

His soft words were headier than any wine, his nearness more potent than any drug. With the tremor that passed through her went all thought of resistance, all will to protest. In its place was the taste of passion he had given her and the yearning to know more. Yet Alex awaited her sign. He wouldn't force her, nor would he allow her to remain passive. Intuition told her that he would demand in return everything he gave. The thought excited her. If she wanted him she would have to challenge him as well.

The thought was made all the more exciting by his hands, which drifted from her face to her shoulders, then lightly down her arms to rest expectantly at her hips. "You can't do it," he goaded softly. "Why? Not woman enough?"

The spell was momentarily broken. Alanna gasped at his taunt and its implication, stunned by the maelstrom of emotions that swirled within her. Indignance blunted anger, to be quelled in turn by desire, which erupted in a sigh of need, raw and ever-building. Freed of all pretense by his dare, she would meet him head-on. He would eat his words, she vowed, by the time she was done.

Her hands lifted to his face, her fingers tracing the rugged lines of his cheek, his jaw, then running around to the vibrant hair at the nape of his neck. His pulse throbbed beneath her thumbs, her own quickening to keep time. When she lifted her lips he met them, still holding back, still demanding that she take the initiative. Unspoken, the dare was repeated. And she met it, deepening her kiss, running the tip of her tongue along the firm line of his lips, then venturing further with darting sweetness in a bid to contest his ability to withstand her provocation. His imminent surrender was electrical.

Slowly he raised his arms, his hands tightening around her, lifting her until she was nearly off her feet. She clung to him for support as his lips grew active, demanding. To her starved senses it was a delightful feeling, that of yielding to a power greater than herself, of absorbing that power and gaining strength from it. With that strength she returned his kiss, weaving her hands through the thickness of his hair to hold him closer.

Her feet left the ground as he lifted her, his kiss as strong as ever while he carried her to the bed. The coolness of the sheets against her flaming body, however, was a stark reminder of reality.

"Alex...?" she whispered, only to be stilled by his thumb against her lips.

"Shhh. I said I'd put you to bed. I'm only doing that."

When his hands reached for the tie of her robe she demurred. "Alex!"

"Shhh. You'll wake everyone up."

His lips silenced her further, drugging her anew as his fingers drew the robe apart, then slid within to begin a sensual exploration of the curves that awaited enticingly. He stroked her sides and her midriff with maddening torment until, caught in an explosion of need, she arched toward him. Only then did he touch her breasts, lightly at first and with a tenderness that hit its mark. This gentleness was totally irresistible. Though his touch grew bolder it was exquisitely precise.

Alanna's palms itched to touch as well. Her gaze followed them as they moved to the vee of his robe, settling against his bronzed chest to allow her fingers access to its hair-roughened warmth. Reveling in this textured landscape, her fingers trailed downward. Muscles rippled beneath her fingertips in a deep tremor of excitement which accompanied his low groan. In the dim light her eyes were bright and alive, her lips moist and open as he reached for them with raw hunger. Then reality entered to shatter their intimacy.

"Are you two at it again?"

For a split second they stilled, stunned, tumbling from the heady peak of passion. Alex's subsequent groan was one of frustration as he pushed himself up to rest on stiffened arms.

"Sylvia," he growled huskily, identifying the intruder without even looking around, "you're worse than any chaperone!"

The nurse stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Mercifully, she didn't approach the bed. Alanna's flush was mirrored on Alex's face, a flush of passion, not embarrassment. Her eyes drank in his color, his hair in disarray, his gaze still dark with desire.

Though stern, Sylvia's voice held an undertone of appreciation. "May I remind you that this is a hospital? We're all here on official business."

It was Alex's discomposure that gave Alanna the strength, despite her lingering exhilaration, to rebound. "That's right, Alex. This is a hospital." She grinned, feeling safer from her own rampant desire with Sylvia in the room. "Official business only. You heard the woman." She felt an odd satisfaction at having the edge on Alex Knight, regardless of how tentative or superficial it might be.

"I hear, I hear," he muttered grudgingly, admitting defeat only for the moment. "You haven't heard the last of me, Ms. Evans." Leaning down, he placed a sober kiss on her cheek in a show of defiance before levering himself off the bed, straightening his robe with dignity and stalking barefooted to the door. "And you, Nurse Frazier, had better wipe that smirk off your face. Hmm," he paused, eyeing her closely as Alanna followed the action from her bed, "what happened to the timidity that gave you such tact earlier?"

"That timidity, Mr. Knight," she countered with an utter absence of the quality in question, "vanished with your clothes. As soon as you shed them you became my responsibility. As is Ms. Evans. And I will have no hanky-panky in this sleep lab."