She thought about making over maids into wealthy matrons, paupers into princesses.

Nothing felt right.

She surfed the Internet some more until she hit Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. The show had taken America by storm. Gay guys with a sense of style, taking slobs and nerds and turning them into suave fashion plates.

Her heart began beating hard as an idea started to develop.

She was going to make over herself, no question. And she was doing it because she wanted to start over. But there was another piece to her transformation, she realized, that needed to happen. She was changing her life- out with the old, in with the new-because she was tired of being wild. She was tired of bad boys.

She sat up straighter in her chair.

She was sick of passionate hunks. She didn't think she could stand to see a single other rugged cowboy. And what woman wasn't tired of having to deal with such insensitive guys?

Julia stood up and started to pace, her stiletto heels sinking into the thick Aubusson rug.

What woman wouldn't want to find a man with the looks and confidence of a bad boy and combine it with the sweet sensitivity of a moon-eyed nerd? What if that guy existed? Or better yet, what if someone created that man?

Her head spun. Her breath grew shallow at the realization that this was the sort of makeover show she could do. She would create her own version of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. She would take bad boys and turn them into sweet, sensitive guys. She'd be like the professor in My Fair Lady. A modern-day Henry Higgins for men.

It had big, huge, amazing hit written all over it!

She would be able to prove to herself that she deserved the job at KTEX. And she would make Chloe proud. She'd show Sterling that he hadn't bet on a bad horse. She was going to create a winner yet!

She raced back to the desk. She pulled out a slip of paper and started a list. She would still make herself over-she'd turn herself into a responsible woman. But for her show she would find a man to make over. She would tape the whole process, then edit it together as a television hit.

There were tons of details that had to be figured out. But those could wait. The first thing she had to do was find a bad boy she could turn into a sensitive guy.

To: Julia Boudreaux From: Katherine Bloom Subject: Dead or alive

Is Ben still alive? Or have you finished him off? Just checking.

Your devoted best friend, Kate Katherine C. Bloom News Anchor, KTEX TV, West Texas To: Katherine Bloom From: Julia Boudreaux Subject: Insulted Sniff. What kind of a woman do you think I am? A black widow spider? Though, in truth, the image has always held some appeal. But no, he's alive and kicking, or at least he's alive, and doing as well as a wounded man can, I suppose.

But enough about the wounded bear in the east wing of my little old house. Do you want to go to Bobby's Place for a little evening refreshment?

xo, j To: Julia Boudreaux From: Katherine Bloom Subject: Sorry

Can't. I have plans with Jesse. We're going to the movies. Do you want to come along? It's been ages since we've done something together.

Though now that I think about it, tonight is Girls' Night at Bobby's. You've never had a problem going by yourself before. What gives?

K.

To: Katherine Bloom From: Julia Boudreaux Subject: re: Sorry Nothing gives. It's just that I realized that going to a bar by myself is not on my new agenda. I'm turning over a new leaf. Just tea, crumpets, and sensible clothes for me. Hmmm... Which means, I suppose, I shouldn't go to Bobby's Place at all. Errr. Being sweet and good is going to be harder than I thought. xo, j To: Julia Boudreaux From: Katherine Bloom Subject: Huh???

What is this about turning over a new leaf?!!!

Please advise, K.

To: Katherine Bloom From: Julia Boudreaux Subject: Drumroll please I'm making myself over. Before you know it, I will be the new Julia Boudreaux, a sweet, proper, and ultraresponsible southern belle from West Texas.

xo, Julia p.s. Can I borrow some clothes?

To: Julia Boudreaux From: Katherine Bloom Subject: Oh, dear

This sounds like trouble....

Chapter Three Ben woke to the smell of cinnamon and baked goods. It felt like he was floating on a cloud of childhood and the past. No worries, no troubles. Nothing was wrong.

Until he moved.

Heat shot down his leg and up through his groin. Fuck. And not the good kind.

The sharp bite of pain cleared his head of sleep, and after a second he realized where he was. At Julia's, with a gunshot wound to his upper thigh.

His mood blackened instantly. He still couldn't believe he'd been shot.

Ben Prescott had been a legend in the police academy-number one in his class. He was better than good; he was the one who had set the standards for everyone who came after him. His marksmanship was outstanding and his reflexes were phenomenal. He had the unteachable quality of being hyperaware of everything going on around him, giving him the ability to react quickly and fluidly as a situation unfolded.

But a week ago, emotion had gotten in the way. Emotion had made him careless-had affected his concentration. Emotion made a man vulnerable. And in his line of work he couldn't afford to be weak.

He had been careless following the perp farther into the building and lowering his guard. Hell, he thought, plowing his hands through his hair. He deserved to get shot.

With effort, Ben pushed out of bed. Everything from grimacing to putting his feet on the floor took effort. But he didn't want anyone, including Sterling, to know that. If the older Prescott had learned the truth, he never would have left for his honeymoon. As Ben said to Julia, he wasn't going to be responsible for throwing a wrench into the first true happiness Sterling had ever known.

So Ben had kept quiet because of his brother, but also because he didn't want anyone else in his family staying any longer than they already had. Getting his mother, grandmother, and sister to return to St. Louis had been like pulling teeth. His family might be short on giving hugs and sending Valentine's Day cards, but he knew they cared a great deal in their own bossy, domineering way.

He wasn't much different when he went after something he wanted. When he had announced that he was going to be a cop instead of joining Prescott Media, his family had objected-strenuously. He knew they cared. He knew it was all about them being worried. But no amount of cajoling, begging, or even threatening had changed his mind. Not back then, and not this time when they had tried to get him to return to St. Louis after he had woken up in the emergency room.

But he kept his mouth shut because he knew they meant well. And he would put up with whatever Julia Boudreaux had to dish out. Besides, he thought with a wry chuckle, he hadn't become a cop because he liked playing it safe.

But his grin turned to a groan at the thought of her. He'd never met a woman more in control of herself and her surroundings than Julia. If she wanted something, she went after it. And based on everything he had seen while staying in her house as a bodyguard of sorts while they were taping The Catch and His Dozen Texas Roses, she got what she went after.

She really was a piece of work-sexy as hell, no question, but still a piece of work. Her short tight skirts never failed to give him the sort of hard-on that demanded instant release. But for reasons he wasn't interested in examining, he'd had little interest in release with any woman other than her since he met the raven-haired bombshell. Though he'd take cold showers until hell froze over before he got tangled up with her. Julia Boudreaux was nothing but a sexy heartbreak in heels, and he swore he'd steer clear of her.

After a grimace and a good deal of effort, he managed to get his jeans on and shove his arms through the sleeves of his shirt. With sweat breaking out on his forehead, he decided his boots were a no-go. Hobbling into the bathroom, he took a leak, thought about a shower and shave, then decided a splash of water to his face and a quick brush of his teeth would take all the energy he had to spare. Maybe after he'd had his fill of whatever breakfast fare was going on in the kitchen, he'd rethink the shower.

Feeling like he hadn't eaten in a month, he went in search of whatever it was that smelled so damn good. The thought of food and sitting in Julia's kitchen took his mind off his throbbing thigh. The first time he saw her kitchen, he had liked it. The room was warm, a mixture of class and comfort. He had lived out of corner kitchens with hot plates for stoves for a long while now. After a lifetime of servants and impersonal stainless steel kitchens with the latest of everything, Ben had actually liked the simplicity of a grungy sink and single hot plate.

But since the first day he had walked into Julia's kitchen, he had felt at home. He had expected her to be all about cold marble countertops and fawning servants. But even when she'd had servants, more often than not he could find Julia in her skimpy outfits at the stove making a pot of tea, or baking cookies for the slew of women she'd housed for The Catch.

Today, whatever comfort he thought he would find in the kitchen vanished when he finally got there. He could hardly believe his eyes. None other than Betty fucking Crocker stood at the oven, complete with a knee-length poofy dress, an apron lined with white ruffles, and the kind of low-heeled, nondescript shoes worn by Sunday school teachers. This picture had nothing to do with the tight-skirted, high-heeled Julia he had come to know, if not love. She even wore her dark hair pulled back in a pony tail.

"Who the hell are you and what have you done with the wild woman I've come to know and dislike?" he asked as he entered.

Julia whirled around, her skirts swirling like a ballerina's, those violet eyes wide, her fluffy oven-mitted hand holding a pan of freshly baked cinnamon rolls.

"Good morning!" she chirped with a sunshiny smile. "How are you today?"

She set the pan down, smoothed her apron, and gestured for him to sit. "I hope you're hungry. I've prepared a feast."

He couldn't speak. Generally when he said things about disliking her, she had a ready comeback that was as tart as it was stinging. This Julia only smiled. He was sorely disappointed.

As she herded him to the table, he noted that despite the fact that the top of her head barely came to his shoulder, she wasn't the least bit intimidated by his size.

He sat down, the sound of her sensible heels on the tile floor grating against his pounding head. In seconds he had a plate of scrambled eggs with melted cheddar cheese sitting in front of him. There was bacon and hash browns, and damn if the rolls weren't dripping with a creamy butter icing. His stomach grumbled.

"See," she practically sang, "you are hungry! And every growing boy needs his strength."

"I am not a growing boy, Betty. If you'd like me to prove it, I'd be happy to oblige."

He reached for her, but she leaped away, then waggled her finger at him. "Tut-tut, no manhandling the matron."

"Matron, my ass-"

"Really, your language is abominable."

"Abominable? What the hell happened to you?"

She laughed and twirled away, her skirt ruffling again. Returning to the counter, she started icing the

second batch of rolls.

"What do you mean, what happened to me?" she asked primly.

"You're . . . different. You've dressed up like some sort of caricature of 1950s respectability. I thought

Halloween was over."

She was still as beautiful as before. He didn't think Julia Boudreaux could be anything but a knockout.

But overnight, she had gone from hot and sexy to simply sweet. And he didn't like it one bit. As much as he didn't like the old Julia, he wanted that one back. This new version made him feel off balance.

Julia's brow furrowed as she stared at the rolls. "Even if I did overdo it a little with the outfit, I am

different."

Without taking a bite, he got up from the table despite the pain, then walked over to her. She didn't realize he was there until he stood a few paces behind her and she turned.

She didn't squeak or get some innocent schoolgirl look. Her violet eyes flashed with awareness, her full,

sensual lips parting. Ridiculously, he felt better that the wild woman wasn't gone completely.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting a closer look to see what's going on inside that head of yours."

"Going on? Nothing. But if you really want to know, this is the first day of the brand-new me."

"What the fuc-"

"My life has changed irrevocably, and I've decided to change with it. From now on, I'm a good girl."

He couldn't find the words. He only knew he felt a childish need to prove that she could no more be

good than he could.

He took a step closer. But she laughed and slipped away since he couldn't move all that fast.