conviction would desert him. "Good night." He headed for the back door. He wanted her, and he didn't want to think. He wanted to lose himself in her sweetness, consequences be damned. He thought of how he could lean her back, pull off her panties, and lick the sweet center of her, gently sucking her clitoris until she came. There were so many ways to pleasure a woman. He had pleasured more women than he could count.

Pleasure. Katie.

The words shot through his head like a shiver. He wanted to. But then he remembered Katie sweetly curling against his side, counting on him to keep her safe.

That was the problem. This constant seeing her as young and innocent, remembering the bond between them. Not exactly a sister, but not someone he could think about in a sexual way.

But he could no longer pretend that things hadn't changed. Whether he liked it or not, things had shifted between them. There was no going back. He had to finally face the reality that little Katie was the past. A sensual, grown woman had taken her place. A woman who made him crave and long for something he had thought long dead inside him. And he wanted her.

Only one question remained. What did he plan to do about it?

He turned the knob, then pushed out through the screen. A summer breeze drifted in, bringing the smell of honeysuckle and roses.

At the last second, he looked back at her. "Did I mention you're too good for Parker?"

"No."

"Well, you are."

Then he let the screen slam as he headed for the guest cottage.

To: Katherine Bloom Chloe Sinclair From: Julia Boudreaux Subject: Tell all So, how crazy were you on your date with Parker?

xoxo, j To: Julia Boudreaux Chloe Sinclair From: Katherine Bloom Subject: Dessert Well, we went to his place after dinner, but no one got lucky. Though I did try, Julia. You would have been proud. Afterward, however, I felt the distinct need to throw myself in a body of water. Preferably one with sharks. It seems to be a recurring theme with me these days.

Kate To: Katherine Bloom Julia Boudreaux From: Chloe Sinclair Subject: Rumors and water It must be something in the air, since there's a rumor floating around regarding Julia and a certain pool.

Julia, tell me it isn't true that you dove into the hotel pool at the Symphony League's Black Tie Gala.

Chloe Chloe Sinclair Station Manager Award-winning KTEX TV West Texas To: Katherine Bloom Chloe Sinclair From: Julia Boudreaux Subject: No comment You can't believe everything you hear about me. But you can believe that Kate's love products segment is scheduled for tomorrow.

Enjoy!

xoxo, Julia Scarlett Boudreaux

To: Julia Boudreaux Chloe Sinclair From: Katherine Bloom Subject: Hmmm I'm starting to think that a show on love products isn't such a bad idea.

Kate-formerly known as an award-winning news anchor THIRTEEN Hot-pink lips. Check.

Curls left long, brushed out just enough to make them full and wild. Done.

Stretchy top cut low, the neck lined with marabou feathers and glittering with sequins. Perfect.

Skirt cut high and tight. Probably too high and too tight. All the better.

High-heeled pair of red hooker heels.

Kate just about swooned as she looked at herself in the mirror-the bad kind of swooning, as in passing out, and she most definitely wasn't a swooner.

At any second, she fully expected her heart to burst out of her chest because it was pounding so hard. Or maybe she'd hyperventilate.

She glanced around the KTEX makeup room, looking for a brown paper bag. Finding none, she tried to remember the stress-management techniques. But it seemed like she hardly remembered the class she had taken, or the instructions they had given. She settled for rolling her shoulders.

"Buck up, Katherine," she whispered to her reflection. "You can do this. You are going to do this."

With three minutes to showtime, she stood up from the chair, thought sultry-prayed she knew what sultry was-then nodded her head and left the room.

Walking down the long, narrow hallway, she ignored the startled gasps, just as she ignored the niggling thought deep in the back of her mind that hooker heels didn't do a whole lot to make her seem friendlier. Today she had something else to prove, and it pushed her on like a general's command sending her into battle. Forget the fact that said general must be a demented fool fighting an imaginary foe-or worse yet, a hopelessly unwinnable war while wearing stilettos.

She almost managed a smile over all the w's.

She strode past Chloe, the clang of the station manager's metal clipboard hitting the cement floor the only sound she made. Even Julia took one staggering step back at the sight of her. Since Kate hadn't wanted to mention that she and Parker had broken up, she had avoided both Chloe and Julia. They would have asked more questions than she had answers to, and she wasn't about to admit that he had said the reason for the breakup was none other than Jesse Chapman. No, that would require way more discussion time than she was interested in giving.

So Kate avoided them all, including ignoring them now as they stood in shock as she headed toward the set.

She tucked in her earpiece as the introductory music came up, the visual of the sun rising over the horizon in bright shades of red and orange filling the monitor she could see below the camera. Then she smiled just as Pete signaled that she was live.

"Good morning, West Texas!"

She told herself she could do this, and she prayed that her heart would calm down.

"Today we have a delightfully fun show that will give us all a few tips on how to make these hot Texas nights even hotter." She flipped her hair over her shoulder, but only managed to get a puff of marabou in her face.

The clipboard clanged again.

Coughing, Kate picked a feather from her slick and shiny lip gloss. But she did it with what she hoped was a lusciously sensual smile.

The cameraman actually came out from behind the camera for a moment to stare in dumbfounded disbelief.

Pete did that bleating thing in her ear.

Rather than be deafened, she pretended to play with her curls, and popped the plastic piece from her ear.

Like a cat on a hot tin roof, she walked to the first product lined up on the counter, thinking sexy, really sexy, while at the same time doing her best not to trip. With game show pizzazz, she whipped out her hands and announced, "What better way to spice up your life than with a fun pair of dice?"

Chatting away, she rolled the cubes a few times, making sure she showed only the tamest variations, regardless of the fact that what she had actually come up with was far racier than Kiss and Cheek, Lick and Ear. She did have half a brain left. She didn't want the show to be jerked off the airways for being profane.

"And for all you golf aficionados, how about a little Fore! Play? You know that shout golfers make when the ball is headed straight at some poor unsuspecting soul? Fore!" She laughed loudly. "Well, get yourself this game, my friends, and I guarantee you'll be shouting, all right. But I don't think it will be Fore! If you find yourself a strapping man with a fine, strong putter and a good set of balls, I'm betting you'll be shouting: More!"

She wasn't positive, but she thought Julia might have fainted just beyond the set. Either way, Kate was on a roll.

She moved on to a game she had found in a shop in downtown El Paso. Earlier, she had hung it up on the fake wall in her Getting Real kitchen. It was covered by a small drape. With a flourish, she tugged the satin free, revealing a dartboard, the round circles leading up to the bull's-eye filled with boldly printed instructional targets that would have made Hugh Hefner blush.

Picking up a dart, Kate gave it a good hard throw. But it missed completely, flying off the set.

Someone yelped in the distance.

Kate looked straight into the camera. "I guess it's just like they say. Love hurts."

Jesse paced back and forth across Katie's kitchen. He was going to wring her neck the second she arrived. Even hours after Getting Real with Kate had aired, he still couldn't believe what he had seen on morning television. His Katie on the screen, sexy, sensual, and- Good God, he couldn't believe those shoes. When she had come around from behind the counter and the camera got a full shot of her, he had spit out a mouthful of Cheerios.

He swore she did it just to drive him insane. She'd no doubt be pleased to learn that it was working. And who wouldn't be going over the edge when faced with this constant battle? One minute he wanted to protect her and keep her safe, then the next he wanted to pound hard and deep inside her.

Yes, he had lost it. He was losing his mind over a woman he didn't want to want.

The front door creaked open, then closed with a whispering click. Then silence as someone tiptoed

across the entry hall as unobtrusively as possible. As well she should, he thought grimly at the memory of today's segment of Getting Real. But the she he expected wasn't Katie at all. Travis stood in the foyer, frozen at the sight of him, his golf bag still hanging from his shoulder, surprise, guilt, and a suspicious red welt playing havoc with his face.

"What happened to you?" Jesse asked with sharp concern.

"Me?" Travis asked gingerly. "What happened to me?"

Jesse could practically see the gears in the boy's head working fast to come up with a story.

"You've got a red mark on your face."

"Ah, I... fell. Yeah, that's it! I fell."

"On your head?"

"Well, I was . . . getting a ball from the pond."

"Oh, really?" Did the kid think he was born yesterday?

"Yeah, you see, I didn't want to lose the ball. So I reached and reached and the next thing I knew I fell

in."

"But you aren't wet."

His nose wrinkled. "It happened hours ago. I'm dry now."

Jesse stared at the boy, then sighed. "Travis, you can talk to me if something is wrong."

"Really?" Travis asked, not looking convinced as he headed to the kitchen.

"Really."

"Okay. I want to quit golf."

"Quit?" His head spun as he tried to think like a father. Not a natural task for him for many reasons.

"So soon? You've hardly given the game a chance."

"I bet I'd be better at chess than I thought," the twelve-year-old said with complete seriousness.

"Or that chemistry stuff you mentioned. Experiments, mixing ingredients. Sounds like fun."

"You can't just quit," Jesse stated, walking over to the pantry to get Travis a snack.

"Why?"

Good question. His first instinct was to say, I said so. But that would rank right up there with grounding

for no good reason. So he tried to think like a good father, but he hadn't a clue what a real father would

do. He could hear his own father. "You want to quit? No problem."

But Jesse had learned a person couldn't be a quitter, at least not if he wanted to amount to anything. Just like he couldn't quit now as the PGA Championship approached. He had to force himself back out to the course; he couldn't use Travis or Katie as an excuse not to persevere.

"Why don't you tell me what's really wrong, Travis? Is it harder than you thought? Is the coach bad? Hell, I don't know how he can be any good if all he knows is baseball. I'll talk to him. In fact I'll call him Monday morning."

"Oh, that's okay. No need-"