Pushing open the screen door, Kate came out into the yard. Jesse stopped mid-sentence and looked at her. His expression became even darker, more unfathomable.

"Hey," she said softly.

He shoved his hands in his back pockets. "Hey."

Travis put his hands in his back pockets as well. "I was just telling Jesse that we need to finish the tree house. We're supposed to put a railing up to hold the sides secure. If we don't, the wind will probably wreck it."

As if to prove the point, a gust of wind shuddered through the tree's limbs, and the planks of wood gave an ominous creak. It was like a replay of all those years ago, the wind tearing apart something that she cherished.

"When do you think we can do it?" Travis asked Jesse. "Probably better do it soon. Though I guess we can't do it tomorrow, since you have the golf-off."

The wood creaked even more, but Jesse didn't respond.

Travis looked at him curiously, and with more than a little concern. "You're playing, aren't you?"

Simple words, though the meaning not so simple, put out there so boldly, asking exactly what Kate was

afraid to. Half of her expected Jesse to toss off an easy "Sure."

"Travis, I'm sorry. But no, I won't be playing."

Wind rushed through the yard, through the tree house, stressing the boards, rustling their world.

"What?" Travis choked.

"It turns out I have to leave town in the morning."

Kate's breath expanded painfully in her chest. Jesse focused on her. "I'm sorry about the late notice."

A thousand questions sped through her mind. How could he possibly disappoint Travis? Or El Paso?

Concerns about the actual tournament barely registered.

"It can't be helped," Jesse added.

Travis blinked, then blinked again. "I gotta go," the boy said, his voice strained.

"Travis," Jesse said, stopping him. "I'm really sorry, T."

"No problem. I really gotta go. Lena's waiting for me."

When Jesse would have questioned him, the boy turned quickly to hide his sudden tears. Then he

dashed away, and the sound of the back gate banging closed echoed through the quiet neighborhood.

Kate and Jesse stood there for a second before Jesse cursed, then headed for the guest cottage.

"Jesse!" she called after him, then followed. "What is going on with you?"

He kept walking, and when he started to slam into the cottage, she was there, her palm planted against

the plank.

"What is wrong?" she demanded.

He raked his hands through his hair, his dark eyes wild. "Nothing's wrong," he all but yelled, turning

away and continuing inside just as lightning cracked open the sky.

Kate stood there, stunned, the rain starting, the wind growing harsh and punishing, until the first board wrenched free, tumbling down into the bright green summer grass.

Shaking herself, she followed him, slamming the door shut behind them. She counted to ten. "Jesse,

damn it, once and for all, talk to me."

Pivoting on his heel, he came back to face her. "What is there to talk about? I came home to work on

my game, and I've done everything but work on it."

"You've done nothing but work on it for the last two weeks."

"For all the good it's done me. All I can do is think about you." He took a step toward her.

Despite her having known him a lifetime, every instinct she possessed screamed he was dangerous, and a

frisson of concern raced through her. When he took another step closer, his expression grim, she took a step back. Suddenly standing there pushing him didn't seem like such a smart idea.

"Jesse, really, clearly there is something bigger going on here. Let me help."

"God," he groaned, "I'm beyond help. I'm beyond sanity. You drive me insane. I want you to be the little Katie Bloom that I've known forever. Sweet, kind, uncomplicated. Not this wild woman who . . .

who ..."

"Who what?" Her shoulders came back.

"Who has a body meant for sin."

Her mouth dropped open. "You're upset because I grew up? What kind of insanity is that?"

He plowed his hands through his hair. "Exactly. I am insane. I can't stop thinking about you naked in

my arms."

Her breath snagged painfully in her chest.

"But don't you see, there's no future for us. We are so different. We want different things. My life isn't

here. My life is on the circuit, and in Florida. I can't be pure and innocent and everything you deserve in a man. I know that, and you know that. ..."

She hated how her throat tried to squeeze closed.

"But still, all I can think about, all I can dream about, is you." He took a step closer. "You going down on me, making me burn with an innocent desire I have never felt before."

Her mind whirled as he came closer, backing her up against the small counter in the kitchen. "I said we were going to make love. I told myself that I didn't care that you were distracting me. But I have to care. I have to care about golf-it's what I do. It's the only job I know. Just as television is what you do."

The edge of the Formica bit into the small of her back. Jesse stopped directly in front of her, his gaze burning.

She didn't know what to say, or think. All she knew was that her body tingled from nothing more than his proximity-and from the fact that she plagued his dreams as much as he plagued hers.

"Every night I want to cross the yard and slip into your bed," he whispered, his voice gruff with accusation, "when I should be concentrating on making sure I keep in shape. I eat Pop-Tarts with relish. I stay up late without a thought."

"But you're known for late nights."

"Not anymore. I can't afford that life if I am finally going to win one of the majors. And now I have the chance to win one of the most prestigious tournaments in golf, and I've hardly seen a golf course since I got here. I haven't focused. I'm squandering an incredible opportunity. And that, at least for now, has to be my priority."

He started to move away, but she caught his arm. "Stop running, Jesse."

He went still, his tautly held control practically vibrating through him.

"Touch me," she persisted.

"Kate, you don't want this," he stated, his voice tortured.

"But I do. I want whatever you can give me. I don't want innocence. I don't want purity. I want the

man that you are."

Tension rode him hard, she could see it.

She curled her fingers into his shirt, tugging him back. "Please, Jesse."

Then suddenly, like a dam breaking, he clutched her to him, his mouth coming down on hers hungrily.

She responded with the same intensity, matching his movements when he sucked her lower lip, grazing his teeth along the tender flesh of her throat. This time there was no gentle coaxing, no teasing prelude. He undid her shirt, then dipped his head.

Instinctively, she arched to him when his tongue returned to her nipple, circling the outer edge. A moan escaped on an expelled breath as he tugged up her skirt. He slipped his palms inside her panties, cupping her bottom. He buried his face in her shoulder, the tips of his fingers sliding low until they brushed the core of her.

A deep shuddering breath expelled from her lungs, and her body tensed.

He stroked her softly. "You undo me."

He kissed her temple and her forehead, gentling her.

Then in one controlled but powerful yank, he ripped her panties free.

She bit her lip, but he ran his tongue along the contours, savoring her. She couldn't seem to help herself

when she closed her eyes and moved her hips ever so slightly to experience more of his touch.

"That's it," he crooned. "Let me touch you."

With one hand at her back, holding her secure, he cupped her mound, moving erotically as he nipped

her ear with his teeth. "You are so sweet," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

She felt pleasure coming from every direction. Hot and intense. She felt carnal and primal. Then his thumb parted her moist center, brushing against her tender nub, and she felt her body shudder. He made her feel wild and wanting at the same time. She wanted everything he could make her feel.