She held up her hand in surrender. "Fine."

She got out of the cart, retrieved the driver, then froze when she became aware of Jesse sitting behind

her with a very clear view of her butt and legs.

Raising her chin, she poked her tee in the ground, set her ball on top, then lined up the club face. She

could feel Jesse's eyes on her back-or butt. She had no choice but to spread her legs to take her stance.

He had the audacity to whistle.

"Letch."

"Prude."

She glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled wickedly. "I hardly think that applies anymore after last night."

Though every bit of hot and sassy was no doubt ruined when she felt a heat wave of embarrassment

flash in her face.

One corner of Jesse's mouth ticked up in amusement. "You've got me there." He looked back toward the clubhouse. "Unless you want the foursome behind us to stare at your butt, too, I'd suggest you tee off."

She noticed the four men in the distance gathering clubs into the next cart. With a squeak, she addressed

the ball, swung, and was too frantic to give it a thought that she might miss. As a result, she had never hit the ball so well.

"Wow," she said, impressed, as her shot sailed through the blue sky.

"Not bad," Jesse added.

She strutted over to the cart. Jesse rolled his eyes, then they took off down the fairway.

"Have you been playing?" he asked.

"Not since high school."

To prove her point, her next shot wasn't nearly as good.

"Stop thinking," he stated.

"That might be easy for you to do, but some of us don't have an on-off switch in our brains."

"Funny," he grumbled, but at the same time he wished like hell it were true.

What he'd give to stop thinking-especially about the sense of ease he felt growing in his chest.

He couldn't believe it. For the first time since he left El Paso thirteen years ago, he felt what he was beginning to suspect was the urge to stay.

Preparing for her third shot, Kate placed the club face behind the ball, her stance widened, and heat sliced through him. He had the urge to cup the sweet V between her legs. The thought couldn't be erased, and he pushed out of the cart and came up behind her. His fingers itched to touch her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her into the evergreen trees.

Marshaling his thoughts and shoving his hands in his pockets, he said, "I'd use a seven iron for that shot if I were you. If you connect, it should put you on the green."

She straightened, then scowled. "But that's the thing. You aren't me. And I want to use a nine iron." She started to readdress the ball, then suddenly she whirled back. "Don't you have anything to say to me?"

He made a production of looking confused. "A nine iron will leave you short?"

"Noooo. Something else you want to say to me."

He knew she was talking about last night. When he had said that they would make love, he had half wondered if taking her to bed would once and for all get her out of his mind. But just the memory of Kate going down on him made him go hard so fast that it hurt. He had never known a woman who had wanted nothing more from him than to give him pleasure. Though that wasn't exactly true, he conceded. Kate wanted a piece of his heart. And after she had given to him so unselfishly last night, he was afraid that he'd never be able to live without her.

Was it possible to start a new chapter in his life? Could he get his swing back together before anyone got wind of the fact that his game was falling apart? Could he win the PGA and prove that he was a true golfer?

Could he let Kate into his life? Could he deserve her love?

He didn't know.

"You want me to say something?" he asked. "Then how about, 'You're amazing.' "

Her eyes went wide. "Oh," she whispered.

"Now swing."

She blinked, then turned to focus on the ball like she was standing on a shooting range instead of a golf course. Clearly trying to hit the ball really hard, she jerked the stroke. Instead of sending the ball rocketing toward the green, she sent it up into the air. By the time it returned to earth, it landed only about thirty yards in front of them, ninety yards from the pin.

They stood there and stared. The sun was making its steady ascent, but not yet blazing, the sky a cobalt blue without a cloud to be seen. An egret swooped down, its wings wide and majestic, before it settled into one of the towering cottonwood trees that lined the fairways.

"Now you can use your nine iron," he said with a chuckle, then headed back to the cart before he could touch her.

Kate walked the short distance, made her shot, impressively well this time, managing to land the ball exactly as he predicted. She was on the first green in four strokes. Not bad for someone who hadn't played since high school. She leaped up and cheered, and Jesse couldn't help his smile.

After a decent two-putt into the hole, they moved on to the second tee box.

For the first time in weeks, Jesse felt a low burn of desire to pick up a club. Nothing forced, as he had felt every day that he went to the course. He almost did it, but decided to wait until tonight when he could slip through the fence across the street from her house to practice. No sense in trying if he wasn't sure he could succeed.

During the next three holes, they hardly spoke, Jesse lost to his thoughts, Kate lost to her own. On number six, he realized that something had eased in Kate, as if she was slowly unwinding with every stroke she took.

Concentrating on her shot, she lined up with the flag, aiming directly for the pin. He noticed that she had the habit of biting her lower lip when she concentrated. Even that seemed sexy when she did it.

So much about her seemed sexy now. The way she walked, and even the damned feathered pen she kept hidden in the kitchen desk drawer. It was like Kate was ruining him for any other kind of woman.

When she duffed a chip shot into a hazard, he laughed and surprised himself when he took her sand wedge. For a second he went still. But no one was around, the foursome well behind them.

"Stand back," he said, feeling a competitive surge, "and let a pro show you how it's done."

Kate smiled as he chipped out of the trap, the ball rolling within inches of the hole. He even putted it in to give her a par. "Saved your cute little backside from yet another bogey or even worse," he announced with teasing pride.

She conceded with a nod, but her eyes narrowed with determination when she stepped up to the next tee box. Not to be outdone, she concentrated and swung her driver with a good amount of proficiency considering that she rarely played. She worked each shot after that.

Jesse hung back until halfway up the number eight fairway. The need to swing a club ticked through him. And when she walked up for a short shot onto the green, Jesse dropped a ball next to hers.

"I'll give you a two-stroke handicap," he said.

"Are you suggesting a competition, Mr. Chapman?"

"You bet."

Though who knew Kate could be so competitive? She rubbed her hands together and chuckled wickedly until he laughed and snatched away the pitching wedge. "Watch and weep," he quipped.

But just as he started to make the shot, she belted out a whooping scream.

In some deep recess of his mind he understood she was playing with him. But another part, a more recent part, responded with a fierce wildness as he remembered that day barely a month ago on the driving range in Westchester, the tournament scheduled to start the next day. It was the moment when Jesse's game had started falling apart.

Memories of that day swam to the surface. Early morning, the sun not yet up. He had wanted some time alone on the driving range before anyone arrived so he could hit practice balls in peace. But peace wasn't to be had. His father had already been there on the range, the sky still purple, not yet brightened by the sun that threatened on the horizon. Carlen Chapman had been angry as he hit ball after ball, smelling of alcohol, upset because Jesse hadn't introduced him at the players' dinner the night before.

But Jesse had been just as furious. He'd had enough- of his father's antics, of his father's demands. In that moment, he'd had the same blinding tunnel vision as his father, so they were both taken by surprise when everything changed.

It all happened so fast. The woman appearing, crying out his name as so many women did. Jesse! Followed by the accident that no one had seen in that early morning dimness-just as she hadn't seen the club face swinging when she leaped out at Jesse. He knew that as long as he lived he would never forget the club striking her in the chest. The air knocked out of her in a strange whoosh, those ticking moments of startled shock before she collapsed in front of him.

By the time a man with a camera raced onto the scene, Jesse was giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. And when word got around about the incident, the story was that he had saved a woman's life.

That night, he hadn't been able to sleep, watching news report after news report recounting his golf career- recounting some larger-than-life bad boy of golf they were now calling a hero. The next day he had walked to the first tee box, the crowds circling around, and he'd had the sudden realization that he wasn't sure he could play.

He hadn't quit as he had wanted to. He had gone out on the course-but it was the worst round of his life. He hadn't been able to play since. With less than two months before the PGA Championship, he felt desperation start to pound in his temples.

Anger, fear, and frustration made him whirl around on the El Paso Country Club golf course. For half a second he didn't even realize he was facing Kate. When finally his mind cleared he could do little more than demand, "What the hell are you doing?"

Blood rushed through his veins in a way that he couldn't begin to explain to her. Nor could he let her know how much she had affected him.

"Oops," she said with feigned innocence. "Did that hurt your concentration?"

The impudent smile and those white teeth sinking seductively into her lip made the warrior's fierceness fade- thankfully-to be replaced by a stirring of desire. He nearly laughed in relief at the heat, at the distraction from the turmoil in his head.

Sucking in a deep breath, he concentrated on payback. But his teasing retribution wouldn't involve noise.

The minute Kate bent over for her next shot, he did what he had been dying to do all morning. He slid his hand down over her butt.

Kate yelped, missing the ball completely. "You!" Then she came after him with the pitching wedge.

"Serpentine," he called out, zigzagging as he ran, keeping just beyond her reach. The memories faded completely, and he ran with a child's careless abandon. Kate had distracted him.

Yes, she had distracted him from the reason he had returned here-to find his game. She had managed in the space of a few minutes to set the churning muddle of his life aside. He let her catch him in a thick cluster of trees. The minute she reached his side, he circled his arm around her waist.

They came face to face, slightly out of breath from fun. But then everything shifted. Fun was replaced by driving need. He wanted her-needed her. Wanted to find release from the hell in his mind.

"You truly are amazing. As long as I live," he whispered, "I will never forget last night."

Her lips parted.

"You wanted nothing more than to give to me. Without a thought for yourself."

He backed her against the tree, the pitching wedge hanging from her hand. The moment his mouth came down on hers, the club dropped to the ground, and she clung to him.

The kiss instantly turned to fire, their hands frantically searching, unable to get enough. The world beyond the trees disappeared.

"I've wanted to do this since you walked into the kitchen wearing that goofy skirt."

"What?" she demanded as he kissed the line of her neck. "I thought you golfers loved this stuff. Just this morning I saw Hal 'Ribbons' Ribmore wearing a pair of orange-and-yellow plaid pants that made the sun squint."

He nipped at her ear. "I think any man who willingly lets people call him Ribbons is answer enough regarding his choice of apparel."

He pulled her up, pinning her against the craggy bark. He wanted her with a passion that burned through thought and reason.

With tantalizing attention, he lowered her feet back to the ground, then lowered himself, kissing a trail down her body until he kneeled before her. He sensed that she was half hesitant, half aroused as he pressed his lips against each of the insane multicolored tees and balls, his hands riding up her bare legs, under her skirt.

Pulling her close, he kissed the ball centered just over the juncture between her thighs, and her hands fisted in his hair. Slowly, he tugged the skirt higher. She dragged in a ragged breath when he found her panties and pulled them low.

He nudged her feet apart, her red-and-white saddle oxford golf shoes looking like candy canes lying forgotten in the green grass. He kissed her again, his lips trailing to the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh.

Her body began to tremble, desire winning out completely. But when reality had faded so thoroughly that he would have pulled her down and made love to her in the trees, their bubble burst as a golf ball from the foursome playing behind them landed with a solid plop on the green.

Kate and Jesse froze, then her eyes went wide, and she started scrambling to get away.

"Oh, my gosh! What are we doing? We're on a golf course, with people everywhere."

Straightening her skirt, she rushed out, only to stop dead in her tracks when the foursome pulled up, looking startled when she popped out of the trees. But startled turned to amused knowing when Jesse followed.