A headache pounded at his temples. Think. If he decided on his next course of action, it might haunt him forever. Stone believed in rules. He despised dirty cops who used their authority to give out favors or make their lives easier. He served the public for a reason and had never faltered. This next decision would go against every rule he'd ever abided by, on his oath to serve and protect the world against injustice. He might be out of uniform, but what he did next would affect him.

Yeah, he was gonna kill her.

"Don't say another word," he warned. "Not one. Cover up the thing with your jacket quick."

She obeyed quickly and trotted quietly behind him. "What about my car?"

"Leave it. I don't trust you right now. I'll take you home and make a call for someone to get it back to you by morning." He muttered under his breath, berating himself for his own stupidity and weakness against female tears. He cursed her, the rat fink, himself, and the whole damn situation. She got in his car without another word.

He refused to look at her or speak while he drove. She sat beside him, the dog still under her jacket, staring straight ahead through the windshield. She didn't even look sorry. More like resigned to take her punishment. Stone simmered through the drive, examining each angle and hoping he made a clean getaway. Stealing a dog was a crime. As an officer of the law, he'd assisted a criminal. He hadn't even gotten to finish his donuts.

Finally, he pulled up to her house, a small yellow bungalow with a large pine tree in the front yard. He'd been there a few times over the summer when Genevieve had lived there and he'd been called in to a crime scene. Without a sound, he got out of the car, opened her door, and escorted her to the front porch.

"Umm, thank you very much for helping me and-"

"Open the door and get inside."

She jumped a bit but slid the key in the lock and walked in. He followed, kicking the door closed with his heel. She jumped again but took off her coat, holding the dog tight against her. For protection? Oh, she was sorely mistaken if she thought anything would keep him from exacting punishment. He'd risked his career and his reputation.

Stone was gonna take retribution.

And it would be sweet.

ARILYN REFUSED TO SHOW fear. It wasn't the type of fear she'd experience if a stranger threatened her with violence. No, this was the uneasy, sick feeling in her stomach when she realized the man she was really attracted to was severely pissed off. At her.

What surprised her the most was the hard twist of excitement ramping her up. Her skin tingled, and an odd arousal pounded between her thighs. Was his anger turning her on? She'd heard about things like make-up sex, role play, and all sorts of darker kinds of sexual elements that intrigued her but she'd never experienced. Her lovers abhorred rough treatment or bringing negative emotions into the bedroom. She'd thought the same, though the occasional fantasy cropped up.

Now she was living one.

He practically oozed alpha male and sex. Jeans cupped his powerful thighs and rear, and the washed-out cotton of his hunter-green jersey clung to those meaty biceps and pecs. He glared with hot, dark eyes, devouring her with his gaze. Hands propped on hips. His full lips tightened to a thin line. His jaw locked. Stubble roughened his cheeks.

Her nipples rose and begged for attention. Arilyn squeezed the small, frightened dog a bit tighter for security. She needed to be calm and explain why he had made the right decision. He'd saved a dog's life, and Arilyn owed him gratitude. Now she just had to show him the danger was over and ease his temper.

Why, oh why had Stone found her? The plan was supposed to be simple. Arilyn never intended on kidnapping a dog. The intention was to scour the area one last time so she could find proof of an actual animal.

Until she found the Chihuahua.

Definitely abused. The poor thing lay in filth, with no water or food. She approached cautiously, ready for a giant pit bull or German shepherd to come out, but it seemed the doghouse had only one broken resident. The dog never moved, just stared at her with flat, emotionless eyes. Open sores bled on its starved body. She had no idea what the dog was being used for-it didn't seem like a breeder situation-and the breed was a bit small for a bait dog. But the dog served some purpose for its sick owner.

There was only one thing to do.

She climbed the gate. Blinking back tears, she slowly lifted the dog. A quick check confirmed it was female. When Arilyn cradled her against the warmth of her jacket, a shudder wracked the tiny body.

Arilyn had always felt an affinity for animals, and her parents loved taking care of a wide menagerie before her mom got sick. She'd grown up sharing her bed with dogs, cleaning up cat hair on a regular basis, and playing with reptiles at a young age. Connection with the creatures in God's world made her happy and helped her believe in something bigger. Like with children, an animal's soul was pure. There was a reason dogs were used for therapy and helped children with a variety of issues such as autism spectrum disorders. They reminded people of love, devotion, and the simplicity of giving.

The last Chihuahua she'd met was named Pinky. She had a pink glittery collar, wore pink ribbons in her hair, and walked with a haughty dignity that reminded every other dog she was a queen. Arilyn's heart squeezed at the broken creature in her arms. This dog deserved what Pinky had. Love and security made dogs confident. Maybe with Arilyn's help and the name of a dog who had been well loved to remind her she was worth everything, there'd be a glimmer of hope. Sometimes it started with the basics. Safe shelter. Food. A bath. A name. All the things both animals and humans deserved in this life.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, Pinky," she whispered. Then, tucking her close and zipping up her black jacket, she took her prize and jumped over the gate.

Right into Stone's path.

Arilyn refocused on the scene before her.

"Put down the dog."

He may be hot, and he may be pissed, but there was no way she was giving up Pinky. Besides being her protection, Arilyn wasn't sure how the dog was going to handle being in her home. "She needs some time to transition." The excuse sounded lame to her ears, and Stone didn't buy it either.

"Trust me. Pinky will be safer on the ground right now." His low growl reminded her of his intent to throttle her. Maybe this would be a great time to introduce some other skills to control anger management?

"Let me settle her on the dog bed." He didn't answer, so she took her time placing the dog down on a thick fuzzy mattress she kept in the corner. Arilyn grabbed two bowls, filling one with clean water and the other with dry dog food. She lay the bowls close to the bed.

The dog lay listlessly, staring into space. Her heart broke, but her next task was to get Stone Petty calm. She straightened up to full height, breathed from her belly, and reminded herself to radiate serenity. After all, she was his teacher.

"There. Better?" He lifted a brow. "This may be a good time to go over basics of anger management. Control your breath, control your life. Remember?"

He took a step closer. "Oh, I remember."

"Envision yourself bathed in a pool of white light, calming each nerve ending. Envision yourself in peace."

"Oh, I'm envisioning something right now."

Arilyn swallowed. He didn't look peaceful. He looked . . . hungry. She decided to try another tack before he closed the distance between them. If he caught her strange arousal, he'd use it to his advantage. She didn't need weaknesses regarding this particular cop.

"Listen, Stone." Her tongue tumbled over his name, knowing he preferred it to "Officer." She refused to admit how right the sound of his first name felt spilling from her lips. "I know you're upset and I know I broke the law. I never intended to steal Pinky, but in abuse cases, many times the organizations don't have enough time to get the current animals out. I made an impulsive decision."

The eyebrow lifted a bit higher. "You think?" he drawled. Primitive waves of masculine energy beat from his figure.

"Y-Yes. All I can say is thank you for not arresting me and letting me save her."

"Don't thank me just yet, little one. You may not like the price."

A shiver built in her belly and flooded her bloodstream. Heat rushed to her face. She forced a shaky laugh. "What do you mean? What price?"

Stone leaned in and spoke each word slow and deliberate. "Whatever price I choose to exact."

She couldn't have heard right, of course. Sounded like one of those dark romances Kennedy was always trying to make her read. Unease slithered through her. "Well, if you're thinking I'm going to be some kind of sex slave for you, you're crazy."

Her false smile slipped. He studied her with such depth and intensity, she knew right then he was seriously considering it. "Not a bad idea. But you'd need too much training."

Her body sprung to life and wept for him to try. Her brain shut down in pure horror. What was happening to her? It was like some kind of voodoo sex spell came over her when he got near. "Hardy har har. Look, do you want to blackmail me? Fine. I'll sign off on your classes if you force me to, but it's wrong. I'm begging you not to use me in that way. You need to learn the techniques, and I'll never forgive myself for giving in."

"Now you've made me really mad," he said softly. "What I should do is yank down those yoga pants and smack your ass for your insulting view on my character."

Arilyn gasped. She'd never been spoken to like that. Yet she yearned in such a fierce, horrible way she didn't know what to do. He closed the distance, grasped her upper arms, and kept her in his firm grip. He loomed over her with a dark, deadly energy that sucked the rebellion right out of her. God, she wanted his lips on hers. Dreamed of him taking what he wanted, with no endless questions if this was okay or that was okay. Fantasized of being woman enough to satisfy this male creature on every sexual level he chose to show her.

"That's outrageous," she finally managed to respond. "Archaic!"

"And needed for a little brat with a God complex. You think because you meditate and eat from the earth and bend your body like a pretzel, you're the only one with morals? I'd never blackmail you or lie to my boss. I'll finish every one of your ridiculous classes and prove your techniques don't work."

"I don't think like that! And my classes aren't ridiculous. I'll prove they work by the time you finish the course."

"I'm tired of hearing about how beneficial anger management is. I want to talk about a more important subject."

"Pinky?"

"No. I wanna talk about sex."

She shook in his grip. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and damned if she hadn't lost her ability to tell him to move out of her space.

Because she didn't want to. A strange heat loosened her muscles and made her sluggish. Her belly tightened. Her panties dampened. Oh, she'd been turned on before and was no stranger to arousal, but this was different. With other men, she chose. With him, it was as if her mind disengaged from her body for the very first time and she had no control.

The words shot like a bullet and made her jerk. Those cruel lips tipped downward in a sneer. "Let's talk about this attraction we have for each other and what we're gonna do about it."

Arilyn was way past yoga breathing and now tried to gulp for air. "Nothing. We do nothing. There is no attraction, and you've proved your point. I bow to your testosterone need to control all situations. "

He leaned in. The crisscross scar hooked into his brow. Even his eyebrows were strong looking. Full and dark like his midnight hair, which was free from his usual ball cap and spilled all messy and sexy around his ears and forehead. Individually, his features weren't remarkable. His nose hooked to the left, a sure sign of past fights. His cheekbones were high. Jaw square. Skin on the fair side. But together? He was devastating-the Black Irish look that made women weak in the knees, on the edge of civilized, yet not. Would his goatee be rough and scratchy, or silky smooth if she touched it? And why did his lips look soft, when his features were chiseled from stone?

"Damn, you're hot. Too bad you're also a pain in the ass and completely wrong for me."

She bared her teeth, more comfortable with the punch of anger that flooded her system. "Good, because it'd be a cold day in hell before I'd pick you as a boyfriend."

"How about a lover?" His breath rushed warm over her lips.

She opened her mouth to tell him this little scene was now over. Instead, the denial tumbled from her lips. "You're my student. We need to keep the boundaries appropriate."

His thumb brushed her lips, as gentle and light as a feather stroke. "That's just an excuse and you know it. You're not my official therapist. There's no hard-and-fast rules about a six-week course."

She stumbled over her next denial. "I don't want a lover. I need three months to cleanse properly from my last relationship."

"What if I can help?"

She managed to snort. "Oh, I know how you want to help."

Stone chuckled, tracing the outline of her lips. She tried hard not to tremble and show weakness, but the melty sensation in her stomach grew worse, and when she tried to squeeze her thighs for relief, she only managed to tip him off that she was aroused. Sweat pricked her brow. She would not lose this battle. If she kept strong, he'd back off and they'd be able to finish the six-week course in harmony. She needed Officer Stone Petty as a sexual distraction as much as she needed a neighbor like Mrs. Blackfire.

"I have a proposition," he drawled. "One kiss. Let's prove to each other we'd be a disaster together."

"I don't need a kiss to confirm you'd be a nightmare to deal with," she shot back. "You're an ex-smoker, workaholic, anger-ridden, meat eater cynic."

His fingers moved to caress her cheek, the line of her jaw, up to her temple. Little brushes of tenderness, contradicting the raw strength and power in those hands and body. Ready to crush her but choosing gentleness. The lust rolled over her in waves, and she fought back with all her power.

"And you're a tree-hugging, naive, post-world hippie with a God complex," he retorted. "Vegetarian, to boot. Plus a hardened criminal."

Arilyn growled under her breath and dug her nails into his shoulders with fierceness. "You know nothing about me, Officer! I am not naive."

"Stone. Now shut up."

His mouth took hers.

She planned to fight back and give him everything she got.

And she did, but not in the way she planned.

The moment those blistering-hot, soft lips met hers, she lost it. Swamped by the delicious scent and taste and feel of him, she arched upward and opened her mouth for more. He muttered something dark and dirty, and slid his tongue past her parted lips and beyond.

Then he showed her who was boss.

Oh, he kissed her with all the hard passion and lust she always dreamed about but never inspired. With her past lovers, she got tender, slow lovemaking, and poetic words murmured in her ear. Moves were coordinated like a beautiful song, and though she was satisfied, and emotionally full, there was an ache deep in her body that never felt completely fulfilled.

She'd thought something was wrong with her and happily ignored that part of herself.

Until now.

Stone Petty owned her. Possessed her. His tongue took what he wanted and demanded it all, with each thrust and complete deflowering of her mouth. He reached around and sunk his fingers into her hair, tugging her head back to expose her throat and keep her helpless beneath him. Her breasts pressed against his hard chest, his erection notched between her open thighs, and he ravished her body and soul, leaving nothing behind but an aching, horrible want for more.

She exploded with her own demands, turning the kiss into something much more. Whimpering, she opened her mouth wider, arched her body up to rock against his hardness, and dug her short nails into his scalp.

"You taste so good," he muttered, biting and sucking on her lower lip. "Like sugar cookies. I want to spread you out, taste you, eat you until you come apart."

His dirty words caused a rush of liquid warmth to trickle between her legs. "Oh, God, this is bad," she gasped, clinging tighter. "Very bad."

"And so good." He ground his erection against her, bumped her clit, and she shuddered, writhing to get closer. "Need more." He ripped his mouth from hers, grabbed the stretchy halter top, and pulled it down to bare her breasts.

She wasn't wearing a bra.

"I just died and went to heaven," he groaned, his hands cupping her breasts and rubbing her tight nipples. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out, especially when he plucked at her, watching her tortured face as if to see what she liked. "You're like butter and cream, silky smooth. Peach nipples, just like I thought. How do they taste?"

"No, don't, I don't think-oh!"

His lips opened over one aching tip, his tongue swiping over and over, nibbling on her like a feast. She drowned in a tidal wave of sensation, her brain shut down, her body exploding on overload like a bad circuit firing up.

Her past seductions consisted of scented candles, romantic verses read aloud, and the taste of champagne. Silken sheets turned down. Long, endlessly orchestrated scenes that she always dreamed she wanted.

Now she realized how they'd barely scratched the surface of her need. Right now, she wanted to push Stone Petty on the ground, climb on top of him, and sink down until he slid deep inside her. She wanted to get sweaty, be loud, and take pleasure on her terms, with nothing holding her back. With a man who wasn't afraid to be rough, and demanding, and bad.

"I want you. Now. Here." He looked up, his mouth wet, eyes fierce and so filled with hunger she began to shake. "You want it, too."

She did.

But she couldn't.

My God. What was she doing?

Sanity returned. He was all wrong for her! This man irritated her on a constant basis. They'd have crazy sex, and he'd saunter away and torture her with his smug grins for the rest of the anger management class. She was recovering from a broken heart and had no energy to tackle such a sizzling affair. He'd eat her alive. In a good way. In a bad way.

"I can't." Arilyn pushed weakly at his shoulders. Her voice got stronger. "I can't."

She gave him credit. He backed off immediately, hands lifted in the air as he grabbed for his composure. "Okay. Give me a minute." She took the time to yank up her top, straighten her clothes, and get herself together. Stone shook his head hard, rubbed his hands over his face, and let out a breath. "Got carried away."