to run. Roberto will be waiting."

She was out the door in a whiff of perfume and scads of long black-lacquer hair.

"We should go, too," Kate said.

"Let me run to the restroom first."

Kate pulled a lip gloss from her purse while she waited, but paused mid-swipe when Jesse walked

through the door.

"Jesse!" several people cheered.

The minute she saw him her heart leaped, every inch of her skin tingling with awareness. Without turning

around, she watched him in the hazy mirrors. He was beautiful in a ruggedly sensual sort of way. He

wore a starched blue button-down shirt tonight, tucked into the Wrangler jeans that fit him like a second skin, molding to his strong thighs. His dark hair shimmered in the light, his smile broad and easy as he

greeted the crowd.

Determined not to fall prey to Jesse's orbital pull, she picked up her drink for one last sip. But before she could get the rim to her lips, her eyes caught Jesse's in the mirror.

She saw his expression change. At first he looked confused to find her here, in a bar. Then, with their gazes locked in the mirror, he ambled straight toward her, his cocky athlete's body both graceful and filled with power at the same time, his sensual lips pulling up at one corner in a wry grin.

She gripped her drink nervously as the crush of people parted to let him through. He stopped just behind

the bar stool and studied her reflection. She couldn't bring herself to look away.

Slowly, he turned her around on the swivel stool until she faced him, her head tilting back. Without a word he tugged the long-stemmed glass from her fingers and set it aside, then he took her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.

It was like she couldn't do anything else. She stepped into his embrace-one arm hooking over her shoulders, the other extended as he held her hand-and she slipped her fingers through his back belt loop. It was the Texans' way of dancing. But the charge between them was universal, instant, and electric as she looked up into his eyes.

The slow sweet sounds of an old Garth Brooks ballad wrapped around them as he guided her along, a sprinkling of sawdust making the sound of leather-soled boots sliding over hardwood swish just below the music. With every turn they took, his thigh slipped between her own in a way that would have been considered foreplay in any other state.

"Hello, Katie," he said finally, his lips against her temple.

"Hello, Jesse."

The feel of his arm around her, of her hand gripped in his strong palm, was heady, quickening her blood

like an extra sip of a cosmo.

"You've been busy the last couple of days," he said, easy amusement lacing his deep voice. "Working late."

"What do you mean?"

"Last night your light was on until two in the morning."

She told herself not to care that he noticed. "A morning television host's work is never done."

The corner of his mouth crooked devilishly as if he didn't believe a word of it just as the music came to an

end. She started away but he didn't let her go. "One more."

"But Chloe-"

"Chloe's talking to Lacey and Bobby Mclntyre. She's fine."

He turned her around, then guided her in a fast-paced, three-step country waltz.

Despite herself, all reservations and careful behavior fled completely. Before long she even laughed.

Leave it to a man like Jesse to make a woman forget everything but his charm.

"Now see, that's not so hard," he said with a grin.

"What? Dancing?"

"No, smiling."

"I smile."

"Not very often anymore as far as I can tell."

"What do you know about how often I smile-"

He spun her out, twirling her around once, twice, a third time as they continued with the flow of dancers in a wide arcing circle, before he reeled her back, all in perfect time with the beat.

"-since you haven't been in town more than a few days."

"I've known you for as long as I can remember," he whispered gruffly.

"But haven't been around long enough in the last thirteen years to know if I smile or not."

"Let's just say it's a sixth sense I have."

"Knowing if a person smiles?"

"Knowing when a woman's unhappy."

"Certain women," she shot back. "Maybe. And then only because you're responsible for making them that way."

He actually missed a step. Then his eyes glittered appreciatively before he laughed loud and strong.

Women turned to look, their gazes wistful.

With every turn and touch, Kate forgot about ratings and viewer polls. Whether it was the music, the

drink, or too much Fiddle Faddle and videos, she forgot.

"I thought your cooking show turned out all right."

She laughed again. "You have a bad habit of coming to my rescue."

"You have a bad habit of needing to be rescued."

"That's not true!"

"You just said it yourself." His eyes gleamed as he glanced down at her. "Remember the time you

were in fifth grade, surrounded by those sixth-grade boys?"

"Hey, Billy Weeks said I threw like a girl."

"You are a girl."

"But I never threw like one. And I would have proven it if you hadn't interrupted."

"You were about to punch him in the nose. He would have punched you right back. Weeks wasn't opposed to hitting girls."

Kate sniffed, disgruntled, knowing he was right.

Jesse warmed to his topic. "That reminds me of another time I saved your ass. The day in the tree house."

Her mouth fell open in disbelieving astonishment. "You didn't save me. On top of which, I'm really tired of your I-saved-you theme."

"Funny, I kind of like it. And technically, I think that would be the I-saved-you-repeatedly theme." His dark eyes sparkled. "Plus, it's hard to forget you up in the tree, a storm to beat all storms whipping every plank and piece of plywood free. I came up there when no one else could get you to come down. Not Julia, not Chloe, not your sister."

Kate might have been able to explain away the other incidents, but as much as she denied that day to Julia and to Chloe and wanted to deny it to Jesse, the truth was he had come up into that tree. The wind had been blowing, prying boards away one by one, just as he said, lightning cracking open the sky. When all the other kids had given up on her and fled, it was Jesse who climbed up next to her, not caring how the place groaned beneath the growing storm. They had both looked out through the leaves, beyond their yards, the rain starting up, whipping at their faces.

Thankfully he refrained from mentioning the rest of the episode, where she had turned to look at him, then asked why he had gotten so upset the night before when she had slipped into his bed. She had gotten in bed with him dozens of times, but it had been the first time he had seemed big and grown up, so much older than she felt at fourteen. She had felt his strong body against hers, the strange planes and angles she'd never noticed before.

She had touched him and his whole body had gone still.

She realized now that at fourteen she should have known better. But she hadn't. With innocent wonder, she had traced the hair along his chest, following it down his body until suddenly he groaned, grabbing her hand. Setting her away from him, he had quickly rolled off the other side of the bed and slammed out the door.

It was like she had grown up overnight.

The next day, sitting in that tree, she had been confused and upset, and when he came up to get her, all she knew was that she wanted more of that touch. She had wanted more of him. And she had told him so, adding, "I love you, Jesse."

She had startled him-she had seen the surprise on his face as the wind and rain pelted them. Then finally he had smiled softly, gently.

"I love you, too, Katie, but I don't love you like that. Besides, I'd only hurt you. It's my job to protect you from guys like me."

"I don't want you to protect me. I want you to love me. You and me, we're meant to be together."

He had squeezed her hand, though he was careful to keep a distance between them they'd never had before, then he pulled her down from the tree. He had left for college the next morning and never returned for any length of time, proving her wrong.