Then she upended the bag and a whole slew of other items tumbled out. It took a second for them to

register. Then he started to laugh.

"This is no laughing matter, Jesse Chapman. Julia has lost her mind. She has sent me a bag of sex games

and tells me I am going to do a show about them." She picked up a fruit roll and tore it open. "Tell me, what could this possibly be used for?" She ripped off a piece with her teeth and started to chew.

"Edible underwear."

She gasped, then spit it out. "What? How can this be used as underwear?"

"If you really want to know"-he couldn't help but grin-"you unroll it, cut two long strips, cross them

between your thighs, bring them up and secure them at your waist with a ribbon or a belt."

She blinked about half a dozen times. "Like X marks the spot?"

"You got it."

"I'm appalled."

He shrugged with a devilish nonchalance. "You asked."

"How do you know these things?" she demanded.

"You'd be surprised what a guy can learn on the golf circuit." Jesse grabbed the golf game and chuckled.

"Now this is inventive. Fore! Play. A combination of the sex and golf term wrapped up in a single bedroom game revolving around golf. Clever."

"It's sick."

"So you're not a golf fan." He grinned. "But admit it, you love the dice."

She glared at him as he ripped the oversized cubes from the package. But she didn't wait for more enlightenment. She started pacing again. "Everyone wants me to be some new Kate. I don't know how to be a new Kate. I can't even decide who this new Kate is supposed to be. I can't concentrate. Though I could if ... if ... if you weren't distracting me. That's it. You're the one throwing me off."

"Me? What did I do?" he asked with a choking laugh.

Instantly, she stopped and groaned. "You're right. You haven't done anything. But you're here and

you're easy to blame, what with all your wild distracting ways, great body, incredible hair, and that damned sexy smile-"

"You like my smile?"

"I hate your smile. It's enough to make the smartest women alive lose their concentration. Heck, they

write about it in People magazine!" She sighed dramatically. "Though my problems aren't your fault. It isn't you. I know that. But if my not figuring this out isn't about you, then I have to accept the fact that it's about me. Which means that I have to fix me. And I haven't a clue how to be anyone else."

All the vigor and anger drained away, leaving her spent. Unable to do anything else, Jesse touched her chin, making her look at him.

He smiled at her.

She scowled. "Your sweet talkin' ways aren't going to work on me this time," she stated stubbornly.

"I'm unhappy and miserable and you aren't going to make me feel better."

His smile spread. "I'm not sweet talkin', sweet thing. I'm just telling the truth. You've never understood how great you are, how you have always been good enough just as you are."

"Tell that to Julia, or all those viewers who think they're critics."

"I've never thought of Katie Bloom as a whiner."

"Exactly! This is what getting real has done to me."

He ran his thumb along her jaw. "You can do it, Katie. You can win. But you can't give up."

He saw the pulse in her neck flutter. He watched as her hazel eyes flared with green before her lips set

in a firm, forbidding line.

He put his hands up in surrender. "Fine, see it your way, Miss Award-Winning News Anchor. You, Miss Highest Weekly Ratings for KTEX since the station started airing Getting Real with Kate."

She shot him a glare. "Great. Next the infamously bad Jesse Chapman is going to launch into a lecture

on honor, morals, and respect."

His lips tilted. "Is that a rock group?"

Her eyes narrowed, then she couldn't seem to help herself. She laughed.

"You're bad, Jesse Chapman."

"I try."

She breathed in, then exhaled long and slow. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"I want to see you happy," he said softly.

As sudden as a summer storm, every trace of suspicion in her expression fled, replaced by a hint of

tears that welled in her eyes. "Really?"

"Really."

The moment was intimate and caring, and it made him feel uncomfortable. He might want her happy,

but he didn't want this, not the emotion or the intensity. He couldn't handle it-the hope and need he

saw in her eyes for him to be correct that she was good enough as she was. He dropped his hand and

moved away.

"You're leaving?" she asked, her nose wrinkling. "If you stay, I promise to play nice," she offered with

a sweet, hopeful smile. "I might even have a beer in the refrigerator."

His gaze ran down her body. Despite everything he had been telling himself about this woman and all that she represented, heat and desire flared. Without ever taking his eyes off her, he knew he couldn't walk out when she had that look on her face.

Then without thinking, he picked up the worded cubes, and rolled them.

Her appreciative smile turned to concern. "What are you doing, Jesse? I said I promise to play nice,

not dice."

There was a quaver in her voice.

"Hmmm," he teased. "Lick showing on one die, and Lips on the other."

He came toward her.

"Now what are you doing?" she asked nervously.

"Showing you how to use the dice. It's the least I can do. I know how much you like research."

Then he licked her on the lips. "Mmmm, cherry Fruit Roll-Up."

He saw her uncertainty as she touched her lips. What had started out as a teasing game suddenly didn't

seem like a game any longer. He wanted to do more than lick her, at least more than lick her lips. He wanted to lick the lines and creases of her body.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" she whispered.

As if he could do nothing else, he tossed the dice again. "Kiss and Face."

Alarm brightened her cheeks. But combined with alarm, she breathed in deeply, her breasts rising.

"I'm not going to play," she stated without much conviction.

"I dare you."

"I'm not six years old anymore."