LEATHER & LACE
Karen Wiesner
 



(c)1998 Karen S. Wiesner
ISBN: 1-58200-017-4
 
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the 
author, and has no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. 
These characters are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or 
unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.




CHAPTER ONE
      A wild man just walked into the salon.
      Though Bethany Briggs had always been shy, it had never gotten in the way 
of interacting with her customers. Most of her clients, however, were older 
ladies, professional women, or children. This man was first-glance intimidating. 
He was dressed in black leather pants, silver-tipped boots, and a tiger-striped 
vest. Maybe he hadn't seen the no shoes, no shirt, no service sign in the corner 
of the front door.
      Setting down the supplies she was stocking her retail shelves with, 
Bethany straightened her skirt, then crossed the white and black checkered floor 
to the reception desk he was leaning on. 
     His hair was blond, long and wild. Against his dark skin, it was shockingly 
light. When she realized that she found him attractive, despite his wildness, 
she blushed. To hide it, she glanced down at the appointment book, scanning it 
for his name though she knew it wasn't there. "You have an appointment?" Her 
voice was weak with nervousness.
     "Nope."
     It required all of her courage to look up at him, only to be slammed again 
with his attractiveness. His eyes were a breathtaking shade of deep brown. He 
was grinning at her as if they'd known each other forever. 
     Blushing again, she lowered her gaze and asked quietly, "What can I do for 
you?"
     "Whatever you got in mind, sweetness."
     It wasn't as if a man had never come on to her before. She had even had 
wild men come on to her. But this was a business. No one came on to her in her 
salon, Beauty by Bethany.
     "Do you need a haircut, sir?" she asked, glancing at him quickly, trying to 
pretend he hadn't said what he had.
     "It's Rod Summers, and no. I just came to pick up my baby."
     My. . .? Her gaze flew to his face in alarm, and then she knew he hadn't 
been referring to a child. "Oh. You must mean Nicole Martini." The other wild 
person in the salon.
     Grateful to be able to look away, Bethany confirmed that her stylist Olivia 
was almost finished with Rod's 'baby.' "It'll only be a few minutes more, if 
you'd like to sit down and wait." She pointed to the little reception area near 
the front door where chairs, magazines, and coffee were available. 
     About to return to her shelf-stocking, Bethany was caught off-guard when 
Rod said, "Hey, what's your name?"
     He was talking to her; she couldn't mistake that. "Oh. Um, Bethany."
     "As in Beauty by Bethany?" He indicated the pink logo painted on the 
picture window next to the door.
     "Yes. I own the salon." Clasping her hands, she waited for him to walk away 
so she could too.
     "How long you been in business?"
     For what possible reason would he want to know? "Two years now."
     He nodded in interest, glancing around. "This building seems too small for 
a beauty shop."
     Everyone had to notice that. The building was actually much larger; she 
rented the whole thing since it only came that way, but she couldn't afford to 
expand into the unused portion yet. That part had been blocked off with a 
temporary wall. After her first successful year, she'd lapsed back into the red 
when a chain salon had opened a few blocks from hers. "I know. I plan to expand 
later." Two, three, five years later, if everything got off the ground again. 
"Um, there's coffee if you--"
     He moved around the reception desk, and her stomach did a somersault in 
panic as he came to stand near her. Too near. She could smell the wildness of 
his cologne, the leather he wore. His body was no longer shielded by the desk. 
He was at least six foot tall, five inches taller than she was, and he was 
solidly built. His biceps were golden brown, as was his hairless chest. She 
wondered if he had any Native American blood, or maybe it was that he wore 
animal hide and was almost bare-chested that he looked like an Indian warrior to 
her.
     "Bethany. That's a real pretty name, sweetness. Almost as pretty as you 
are."
     Her heart was pounding like a tennis ball flying back and forth over a 
court. How could she be attracted to him? How could he be coming on to her while 
his "baby" was only a few feet away?
     Gosh, he was attractive. All that glorious blond hair, those sexy eyes. Not 
to mention his mouth. It was as full and soft-looking as a woman's, but there 
was nothing feminine about it. Everything, everything was one hundred percent 
male here.
     She blushed again, couldn't even begin to control it, when he reached out 
and touched the delicate lace that bordered the collar of her blouse. For a 
second, his fingers touched the skin of her chest. In that briefness, her 
nipples tightened eagerly, and she gasped.
     A hint of a smile lit on his beautiful lips. "You suppose I could have your 
phone number, pretty Bethany?"
     Oh goodness, she stood as though under a spell. His spell. She realized it 
when she heard Olivia approaching. Without answering, she broke away from 
whatever trance he'd put her under. Her gaze met Olivia's, and then Nicole 
Martini's as the two came to settle up at the desk.
     Bethany glanced back once she returned to her stocking and saw Rod put his 
arm around his "baby" before they walked out together.
     "God save women from playboys," Olivia said as a prayer, picking up the 
broom to clean her station. Bethany's other employee, Kimberly, joined the older 
lady in gossiping, first, about Nicole Martini, then about Rod Summers. Bethany 
pretended not to listen. 
     "I think he dated Cindy Crawford. . .or one of the supermodels," Kimberly 
confided.
     "One? I heard there were a lot more than that! He's got a new flavor every 
week."
     From her stocking position, Bethany couldn't help her blush. In a town the 
size of Stevens Point, Wisconsin, a man who'd dated. . .and broken up. . .with 
supermodels was definitely the center of gossip. Bethany had heard of Rod 
Summers before, from other customers. No one else in Stevens Point dressed like 
him, looked like him. Even among the city college students, who sometimes were a 
little off-beat, he didn't fit in.
     "A friend of mine dated him awhile back," Kimberly said, and Bethany 
suddenly found herself straining to catch every word. "She said he was the most 
charming guy she'd ever met. In bed and out. He bought her all this expensive 
stuff, took her to these fancy restaurants and hotels. . .in fact, he broke up 
with her on what she calls "her dream date." One minute they're drinking 
champagne, eating caviar, he's giving her a diamond necklace, and the next he's 
saying 'it was fun, but that's all she wrote.' He had another girlfriend before 
the weekend was out--that's the worst part. God save any woman from a womanizer 
like that."
     While Olivia commented on the successful business he owned in town, Bethany 
thought, God save me. It'd been seven years since she'd been that attracted to a 
man. And she'd learned all she wanted to about playboys and their games.
       Nicole had only been living with him for a week and already he was bored 
to death of her.
       There were three things Rod Summers looked for in a woman: good, 
responsive breasts, the enjoyment of kissing and cuddling with or without sex, 
and the desire to have lots of babies.
     Nicole Martini didn't qualify for any of those. Her breasts had been 
fondled too many times in her life, so she was bored with the whole thing. She 
didn't like any kind of foreplay--so there went kissing and cuddling before, 
during and after sex. And babies. . . Nicole wanted babies about as much as she 
wanted herpes. There was no denying she had the perfect body and pregnancy would 
ruin it, but she didn't seem to have a future planned anyway. She was the type 
who went from guy to guy, letting them "take care of her." All she foresaw was 
more of the same.
     That little doll at the beauty salon had definite possibilities. Nothing 
jaded about that little honey. She'd spent pretty much every minute of their 
interaction flushed an attractive shade of pink. Oh baby, he'd never met a woman 
with the ability to blush. A woman who was so shy, she could barely look at him.
     Plain and simple, she'd been attracted to him, same as he was to her. All 
he'd done was touch the collar of her elegant blouse and her nipples had gone on 
code-red alert. Yeah, that little cutie qualified for his first requirement.
     The minute he walked in there, he'd noticed her. Everything had been done 
in black and white, but she was a brilliant flash of blue in that skirt that 
matched her beautiful eyes. And then those long, slim, silky legs had been 
coming right for him. As far gone as he'd been, the why of his being there had 
become her. He was there to meet her. Forget Nicole, who was about as sweet and 
cuddly as a viper.
     He had to see her again. Pretty Bethany. What the hell was her last name? 
Probably could just go back to the salon, but he knew she'd been uncomfortable 
being hit on there. He'd have to figure out where she lived and go there.
     Nicole was in the bathroom. For a woman who didn't like foreplay, she spent 
a whole hell of a lot of time getting ready to make love. 
     He wasn't worried about her coming out while he made a call or two to find 
out more about that sweet thing who owned the salon. Nicole spent at least an 
hour getting ready, and it'd only been thirty-five minutes. 
     At the salon, she'd noticed him coming on to Bethany, but she hadn't said 
anything. She wasn't the jealous type, another disadvantage. He liked to feel 
coveted by a woman, though he'd never wanted to covet one of his own.
     Finding out more about a woman--he'd done it often, and Travis, his lawyer, 
was usually the guy he called.
     "Rod, I'm not a private detective," was the expected disclaimer Travis gave 
him.
     "Come on, you know Stevens Point better than anybody. You can find out 
about her easily. She owns a salon called Beauty by Bethany. That's her first 
name."
     "That's all you know about her?"
     It was more than he usually had for Travis to work with. "Yeah. I just need 
to know her last name, her phone number and address. I can find out the rest 
from her."
     Travis sighed loudly through the telephone line. "All right. I'll try to 
get back to you tomorrow."
     He hung up, grabbed a motorcycle magazine, and laid back on the bed. He 
owned a successful bike shop with two friends. He'd taken the afternoon off 
because Nicole asked. Now he wasn't so sure it was a good idea.
     Nicole came out of the bathroom a while later, wearing only string bikini, 
stockings and garter, and a shelf bra. His first thought was, Oh baby, what's 
the point of that? Nice breasts, even displayed like that, were no good if they 
didn't do anything. 
     She crawled up on the bed with her incredible body, and he thought of 
sweet, sexy Bethany. He might be making love to her tomorrow.
     "I'm not in the mood, Nicole," he said when she ran her hands up his 
leather-clad legs toward what she'd dubbed his "love gun."
     "What do you mean you're not in the mood? You were in the mood when we got 
here."
     Of course he was. He'd been imagining what that honey at the salon looked 
like without her clothes.
     She sat up on her knees and looked at him hard. "What the hell is this?" 
she asked with her teeth clenched slightly.
     "We didn't go into this expecting more than a couple hits."
     Her dark eyes narrowed. He couldn't believe that she wanted any more than 
he did. Nicole was street smart. She dealt with aces and eights, not hearts.
     "You bastard. Are you telling me. . . Oh hell." She pushed herself off the 
bed and went to her closet. As she yanked on a pair of skintight spandex pants, 
she said, "It's that little blond bimbo at the salon, isn't it? You think you 
can have a little cherry like that? She wouldn't even know the chastity belt's 
gotta come off first."
     Rod watched her pull a low-cut shirt over her head, one as tight as her 
pants, and then stab her feet into mile-high heels. Feeling a little conscience 
wouldn't make him stop her from going. "Your suitcases are--"
     "Forget it. I wanna get the hell outta here now." She did get her purse, 
car keys and jacket before heading for the bedroom door. 
     "See you around, Nicole," he called to her pleasantly.
     "When hell freezes over, you bastard."
     He laughed, but later he was lonely. Not that he wanted Nicole back. Most 
of his friends were gone. His sister, JoJo, was in The Keys on business, for her 
chain of health clubs. Jon Rushing and Blackie Scarpacchio, the guys he owned 
the shop with and had grown up with, would probably be heading down to Milwaukee 
soon, to Rainbow Nights, where the four of them spent most weekends. So Rod was 
alone in the house his sister owned but didn't mind sharing. 
     Maybe that was why he'd had so many women here since his sister started 
traveling so much. He didn't like being alone, but he hadn't liked any of the 
women he'd invited in enough to want them to stay for more than a week or two. 
Half of them didn't have names for him anymore. Or faces. They all seemed the 
same. They'd all been forms of Nicole Martini.
     No wonder JoJo didn't pay attention to them when she did come back for a 
day or two here and there. What was the use of going through formal 
introductions for women who weren't going to be there long?
     He went downstairs and got out the phone book. Beauty by Bethany was listed 
under Beauty Salon, but it only had a business address and phone number, no 
names. He'd have to wait for Travis to get back to him tomorrow, even if the 
wait might kill him.
 
       Bethany let herself into the apartment she occasionally shared with her 
big brother. Randy fixed up old houses for a living. He'd been in Minnesota for 
the last year working on a house, but expected to return to Wisconsin as soon as 
the house sold. During the time he searched for another house to remodel, he 
would stay with Bethany. 
     Randy was like a father to her, and she loved him more than anything in the 
world. Their real father had died long before she could remember, and their 
mother had died when Bethany was eight and Randy was seventeen. He had raised 
her, though it had never been easy financially. Money from his own pocket was 
what he'd used to put her through technical college and then through beauty 
school. He'd also put up the collateral when she opened her own salon.
     In her bedroom, Bethany carefully removed and hung up her skirt and blouse, 
then put on a comfortable dress. 
     If wasn't for Randy, she reminded herself, she would have nothing. 
Everything she owned had been bought with his money. Even the profits she earned 
at the salon could be considered his, since it was his collateral that had put 
her in business. Not once had he ever complained about caring for her. 
     In the kitchen, she put together a "gourmet" salad, her most frequent meal 
when Randy wasn't there to cook for. She ate it with candles and music while 
listening to the one message she'd gotten, from her brother, on her answering 
machine. Maybe once she talked to Randy about it, she would stop thinking about 
Rod. 
     Why couldn't he have been terribly unappealing? Why couldn't he have had 
greasy hair with split ends? That would have turned her off in a heartbeat. But, 
no, he'd had to have all that beautiful hair and those compelling brown eyes and 
a sweet and sexy grin. . .
     Good thing he had had his "baby" there to rescue Bethany. How could she 
have told him no if Nicole hadn't been there? The two of them were made for each 
other: Rod and Nicole, two wild animals. 
     Bethany knew she couldn't handle a man like that. Businessmen and 
lawyers--they were easy to control. Their lives had order and rules. A man like 
Rod Summers did whatever he wanted to and expected everything he wanted to come 
to him easily. He wouldn't understand things like fear and love and virginity, 
the way Scott Reeves hadn't. Men like Rod and Scott didn't see obstacles. People 
were just stones they walked over unconsciously on the path to their desires. 
She'd gotten away from Scott before any major damage could be done. It had 
become much easier to avoid the wild side of life now.
     Randy called her back later that night, and she told him everything. As 
expected, he was relieved when she assured him that she wouldn't see Rod again. 
In small-town Wisconsin, Rod was well-known and notorious. After protecting her 
for sixteen years, Randy didn't like the thought of his sister being seduced by 
a man who'd had more women than ice cream had flavors.



CHAPTER TWO
       Travis didn't get back to him until late the next afternoon, after Rod 
got home from work, with the information he wanted. All he had time for was to 
call the florist to deliver a truckload of flowers to Bethany Briggs' apartment.
     While he was showering, Rod realized his picture of pretty Bethany was 
still as vivid in his mind as it had been right after he left her. He still 
wanted her too.
     Since he rarely went into things with a plan, he got into his car as soon 
as he was dressed and his hair was dry. Her salon closed at five, so he'd just 
wait out front of her building until after the flowers were delivered. Then he'd 
go get himself a new baby.
         
          
       Bethany's apartment was only a few blocks from her salon. A car was too 
far out of her price range, and she could walk or take the bus anywhere she 
needed to go.
     After closing the salon at five, she stopped at the bookstore and got 
something to read over the weekend, as she always did. Sometimes she had a date 
on Saturday night, but the truth was, she wasn't made for the 90's dating scene. 
She was too shy to hold most men's interest for more than three or four dates, 
and she was rarely interested after the first. In her twenty-four years, she had 
probably dated a total of ten men.
     She walked home feeling lonely, telling herself that it was because she 
missed her brother so much. Deep down, she knew it was more than that. She 
wanted to be in love, to be the love of a doting man's life. But she hadn't 
dated in over two months, and the only man she'd thought of for longer than an 
hour was Rod Summers. He already had a girlfriend, one who would have no qualms 
fulfilling each and every one of his desires. Besides, she was looking for love, 
he was looking for a quick fix.
     The book she picked out was a romance, just like all the others in two 
months. If she couldn't have her own romance, at least she could read about one. 

     Once in her apartment, instead of eating, she ran a bath she would read in. 
After undressing, she hung up the suit she'd worn that day, then slipped on her 
robe. She was putting her hair up when a heavy rap sounded on the front door.
     Embarrassing to admit, but her only "girlfriends" were her two employees. 
She wasn't close enough to either of them to have them visit her at home. 
     At the front door, she looked through the peephole. All she could see were 
flowers where a head should have been. 
     "Who is it?" she called tentatively through the door.
     "Delivery, ma'am."
     Bethany gathered the collar of her robe together, though she knew 
everything was covered. Unlocking the door, she was caught completely off-guard 
by what she saw. The hallway was stuffed with every kind of flower imaginable.
     "Bethany Briggs?"
     She nodded, too shocked to speak.
     "Can I bring 'em in?" the delivery man asked, handing her the roses he 
held. She stood back, looking for a card in the bouquet. There wasn't one.
     "Who are these from?" She watched the deliveryman unloading all that was in 
the hallway wherever he could find a place to put them.
     "I thought the card was in that one. Well, it's in one of these. You'll 
have to find it."
     It took almost five minutes for him to fill her apartment with an explosion 
of colors and scents. After he was gone and she locked the door behind him, 
Bethany walked around smelling the flowers and searching for a card.
     A knock came again before she found it. Maybe the delivery man had 
discovered the card in the truck. Without looking through the peephole, she 
opened the door and gasped.
     Rod Summers stood there, grinning like a little boy.
     Reaching up to clutch her collar again, she realized that he was the one 
who had sent her all the flowers. The realization was quickly followed by 
another. "Oh my gosh! My bath!" 
     Without thinking, she raced through the apartment to the bathroom, where 
the tub ran over onto the floor. Bethany made a distressed noise, wading through 
the mess to turn off the taps. Standing in the quarter inch of water and bath 
bubbles, she stared at the soaked rugs in disgust, then grabbed a stack of 
towels to start the clean-up.
     "Oh damn. Sorry about that."
     Bethany glanced up at Rod, surprised to see him inside the apartment. The 
robe she wore flowed out in back of her as she crouched on the balls of her 
feet, trying to mop up the floor. When she tried to conceal her bare thighs, she 
found there wasn't enough material to cover them in this position.
     Mortified, she mumbled, "It wasn't your fault. I forgot all about it."
     "I made you forget. With the flowers."
     The flowers. Why would he want to fill her apartment with them? A dozen 
roses would have impressed her. "Do you. . .um, have a family member who owns a 
flower shop?" She could think of no other reason why he would buy her so many.
     Rod laughed as if she'd made a joke. For the few uncomfortable moments that 
followed, she tried to concentrate on cleaning up the mess, but it was 
impossible. He was barely three feet away and he smelled so male, even over the 
pervading jasmine scent of the bubble bath.
     "Terrible time to ask, but do you wanna go out tonight?"
     Bethany was so astonished, she teetered on the balls of her feet and nearly 
fell into the mess before her. Only her grip on the soggy towels saved her.
     Obviously a man didn't purchase a roomful of flowers if he wasn't planning 
to woo someone. But wasn't he forgetting something? "What about your 
girlfriend?" she asked, humiliated that she had to be the one to bring it up. 
"Nicole Martini?" When she stood to get more towels, she risked a glance at him.
     "Oh, her. I broke up with her yesterday."
     It didn't occur to her that it wasn't any of her business until the words 
"What? But why?" were out.
     He came into the small room, making it feel like a crowded closet with his 
broad shoulders and his larger-than-life presence. Taking the stack of towels 
from her, he started tossing them out on the floor and stepping on them with his 
boots to soak up the water. "I met you, and that was it. It wasn't anything 
serious with Nicole anyway," he said without turning.
     Bethany couldn't move. She was horrified and guilt-ridden. And touched.
     From the doorway to a little box around her, he covered the floor with 
towels while she stood there mute, afraid to look at him and afraid to let him 
out of her sight.
     "So, you wanna go out with me? It's six, and I haven't had anything to eat 
all day."
     How was she supposed to say no to him? He was only inches from her, so 
male, so adorable, so hopeful. He expected her to say yes. With all those 
flowers he'd bought her, she couldn't do anything else graciously.
     "I could make you something here," she offered, trying not to get caught up 
in the spell he'd had her in yesterday. It wasn't his fault she could fall into 
those beautiful eyes and get lost forever.
     "I wanna wine and dine you tonight, sweetness. You can make me breakfast if 
you want to though."
     Bethany flushed and lowered her eyes quickly, unsure if she'd heard him 
chuckle under his breath.
     "So, dinner, and we'll take it from there."
     He wasn't really asking anymore, but she couldn't imagine what dinner meant 
to him. She had nothing appropriate to wear to a bar or a fast-food restaurant, 
no jeans or leather skirts. Certainly nothing like he wore. 
     He looked every inch a renegade in a pair of tight black pants laced up the 
outside from hip to ankle and at the. . .well, the fly. Over the pants, all he 
had on was a black trench coat. No shirt again. He looked dangerous, but the 
most fear she could summon was that he'd find her boring. "I really don't have 
anything to wear." 
     "Sure you do. I'll take you someplace nice."
     There was no reason not to, no excuses she could make when deep down she 
wanted to go with him.
     She glanced toward her bath, which was a waste of water now, then tried to 
roll up her sleeves. It wasn't possible in the robe she wore; she didn't want to 
ruin it, but the only other way to let the water out was to take her robe off. 
All she wore under that were bra and panties.
     "Oh. Here. Let me get it." Shedding the trench coat, he tossed it into the 
hallway, then submerged his arm in the bath water. 
     Bethany's mouth went completely dry at the sight of him naked from the 
waist up. His upper body. . . Oh gosh, it was the stuff of female fantasies. His 
skin was bronze, his muscles so developed. His stomach, when he turned and she 
handed him a towel, was the proverbial six-pack. Tight and hard, rippling. She 
wondered what it would feel like under her fingertips.
     Her face was hot again, and he was looking at her as he dried his arm. She 
knew her eyes were wide and her mouth was open, but she couldn't help it. He was 
practically naked in the tiny room with her. A woman shouldn't know that a man 
has a sexy line of hair running down into. . . well, until the tenth or eleventh 
date. Or the honeymoon.
     He smiled at her with that perfect mouth, so sensual she forgot how to 
breathe.
     "Come on, let's go get you ready." Tossing the towel he'd used over the 
shower curtain bar, he walked out to the hallway and picked up his trench coat. 
     Her gaze was drawn to his tight butt hugged by the fabric of his pants, and 
her boldness mortified her. Never in her life had she looked at a man there. It 
would have embarrassed her too much. She couldn't help it now, as her fingers 
flexed unconsciously.
     "Come on," he urged, turning to her with the coat in his fist.
     Come where? She moved across the soggy towels on the floor to him. He'd 
said "Let's go get you ready", hadn't he? What could that mean? He wasn't 
honestly. . . couldn't be thinking she would allow him to. . .?
     As if he knew exactly where she slept, he led her into her own bedroom, 
went straight to the closet, and began rifling through her clothes. The fact 
that a man had never been in her bedroom, let alone entered and probed her 
private possessions as though he owned them was as intimidating as her inability 
to stop him.
     "Ah, here we are." 
     Bethany knew she had nothing in her closet that would resemble the outfit 
Nicole Martini had had on yesterday, so she couldn't imagine what Rod would find 
suitable. He pulled out her emerald green knit dress, the one with the stand-up 
collar and lacy appliquéd neckline. Since she only wore it on dates, it hadn't 
been touched in months.
     Embarrassed, Bethany wondered if he always dressed his "babies", and hoped 
that he only planned to pick something out, not actually try to put it on her. 
She imagined he'd have no qualms about doing that either.
     "Will you. . . I mean, is it possible to get reservations on such short 
notice?" she asked, watching him with trepidation as he removed the dry 
cleaners' bag from the dress.
     "Oh sure. I've got a standing reservation at every restaurant in this town. 
Everybody knows me."
     She could imagine. If he "wined and dined" a woman a week, that was a lot 
of money spent on nice meals.
     "So, you like this dress? Will you wear it tonight?"
     It was as if he'd bought the dress for her instead of choosing it out of 
her closet. She nodded, trying to smile. "It's one of my favorites."
     He smiled in that sweet little boy way and walked over to her with the 
dress. "You get ready. I'll wait out there."
     Politeness dictated that she offer him comfort during his wait. "There's 
wine or iced tea in the refrigerator, if you want anything."
     He nodded, picking up his trench coat from her bed. "Maybe you better lock 
your door after I leave. There's a wild, hungry animal on the loose tonight."
     Yes, there was. He was loose in her apartment.
     She locked the door.
          
       Rod walked around the living room, looking through her things as he 
waited. 
     All his life, he'd prided himself on knowing within five minutes of meeting 
a person what kind of music they'd like. Bethany's collection was extensive and 
so diverse there was no pegging down her preference. Metal, hard rock, soft 
rock, jazz, Christian. Hell, even classical. At least she didn't like country. 
He'd never dated a woman who liked country "music", and he didn't want to start 
now. A man had to have some pride.
     Rod walked over to the couch and sat down, hoping Bethany wasn't going to 
take an hour to get ready. He was starving, and he wanted to be with her. The 
last time he'd been this revved by a woman. . . He couldn't remember ever 
feeling like this. Maybe it was because she was so unlike the kind of women he 
went after. No doubt that he loved to tease her, to talk dirty to her. She 
turned such a pretty shade of pink, and then she'd let her long lashes go down 
to hide her sparkling eyes. 
     Demure. That was the word for her. Rod Summers and a demure woman. It 
surprised even him.
     She turned him on, no kidding. But mostly because she kept her secrets 
hidden all the time, so when one was revealed. . . The women he went after, it 
was what-you-see-is-what-you-get. And there was always plenty to see. Everything 
was on the surface. Expectations, invitations. Even with the clothes, all the 
good parts were in the open. After twenty-seven years, maybe he liked a little 
mystery.
     Oh baby, watching pretty Bethany kneeling on the floor in that silky pink 
robe, trying to cover her gorgeous legs. . . She'd been embarrassed about it. 
Most of his women weren't embarrassed when they fell out of their for-show bras. 
Amazing.
     He glanced at his watch. Well, she'd been in there ten minutes. What would 
he do for fifty more? Considering the drink she'd offered him, he stood up and 
then heard a door open. Heading for the bathroom probably, for the ritual of 
make-up. She didn't wear a lot of it, he'd noticed yesterday. Not like his past 
women.
     The click of heels coming for him stalled him, and then she appeared in the 
archway of the living room, looking shy and sweet and so damn sexy he was on 
fire instantly. The dress was form-fitting, but there was nothing sleazy about 
it as it followed her delectable curves to mid-thigh. 
     Her hair cascaded over her shoulders softly, naturally. There just might be 
the possibility of sinking his hands into it and playing with it without 
worrying about hitting a wall of hair spray, while she shrieked "Don't mess up 
my hair!", like a hurricane could move it.
     "You take my breath away, Bethany Briggs," he said hoarsely.
     Her picture-perfect mouth curved into a pleased, bashful smile. "Thank 
you."
     The pink in her cheeks, most of it not man-made, only made her more 
alluring to him. He wanted to touch her, kiss her. Mostly, he wanted to curl up 
on her bed and just cuddle with her for a couple hours. He had the feeling she 
would enjoy stuff like that.
     Oh baby, he could fall for this sweet thing, fall hard.
     They walked down to his car in silence. Opening the passenger door for her, 
he watched her keep a proprietious hand on the hem of her skirt to keep it from 
riding up as she got in. A lady. Man, what a concept.
     She sat in the zebra-striped bucket seat with her little purse on her lap. 
When he got in, she folded her hands nervously. She didn't know how to handle 
him, he realized. Him or just men in general. The guys she went out with had to 
be the civilized type, would never tell her that his pistol got hot just looking 
at her. This honey would be embarrassed by vulgar speech. He didn't want to 
embarrass her that much. A little, but not enough to offend her.
     Reaching across to Bethany, Rod took her hand and squeezed it. The texture 
of her skin was the finest satin. Unable to help himself, he brought it to his 
mouth and kissed the back and then the palm. 
     The little "Oh!" she murmured thrilled him. He'd been waiting all his life 
for a sensitive woman, one that responded to even the slightest touch from her 
lover. If Bethany's hand was this responsive, he could imagine all the other 
places he could pleasure. Her ears, her throat, the curve of her spine, her 
adorable little toes. That didn't even take into account the really fun spots, 
but he ached already.
     He laced his fingers through hers, glancing at her to find her staring at 
their joined hands uneasily. But a minute later, her thumb caressed the pad of 
his thumb experimentally. 
     They arrived at the restaurant way too quickly for Rod. It meant that he 
had to let go of her hand, and he didn't want to ever set her free.
     Just as he claimed, he got them a table with a smile. He usually flirted 
with the waitress, but she wasn't a better deal, so he didn't bother doing more 
than being irresistible with her.
     When Bethany answered his question of whether or not she liked champagne, 
he ordered a bottle. 
     "So, tell me about yourself. How old are you? What's your favorite color? 
What do you like to do?" He wanted to know every single thing there was to know 
about Bethany Briggs. Right away.
     "Do you really want to know those things?" she asked, like she was confused 
at his enthusiasm to get to know her.
     "Those and more."
     Picking up her napkin, she folded it onto her lap. "Well, I'm 
twenty-four-years-old."
     She was younger than most of the women he'd had. Maybe that was why she was 
still so sweet. Life hadn't showed her its ugly side, yet.
     "I don't really have a favorite color. I mean, it depends on what it is. I 
like white cars, pink lipstick. . .deep brown eyes." She lowered her gaze, 
blushing again. 
     The arrival of the champagne would have rescued her, but he couldn't resist 
teasing, "I think I qualify for one of those." He wanted to kiss her bad when 
her color deepened, because he knew he wasn't her usual type. But there was no 
doubt in his mind that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. She didn't 
know what to do with that.
     He made a toast to possibilities and downed the whole glass while she 
sipped like a lady.
     "Hobbies?"
     "Oh." She set down the glass. "Um, I like to work, at my salon. I like to 
read." Looking embarrassed, she murmured, "I don't know. I'm not very 
interesting. What do you like to do?"
     He told her about the business he owned with his friends, told her a little 
about his friends too.
     They ordered a minute later, and she surprised him by wanting more than a 
tiny salad. His experience had taught him that most women were hypocrites when 
it came to food. The first meal--always a salad. A week later, they were eating 
more than he did. He didn't mind that they ate a lot, but why not do it right 
from the start? It wasn't like their figure would change either way. 
     Finally, an honest lady. She ate what she ordered too, delicately, while 
she told him all about her brother. Apparently, she thought he was interesting 
enough to talk about, and Randy did sound respectable. But Rod didn't really 
care what they talked about, as long as he could watch her. 
     Every time she said anything about her brother, her cheeks glowed, her eyes 
sparkled, she lost her shyness. She even told him about how her parents had died 
and her brother raised her. Family history was something he rarely learned from 
his girlfriends.
     He'd waited all night, and the only touch between them was in the car. 
After they'd finished the meal and ordered coffee, he asked her to dance. 
Actually, he got up and took her hand, tugging her to her feet without waiting 
for her to agree or disagree.
     They joined the other couples on the dance floor, and he wasn't at all shy. 
He took her in his arms, allowing no separation between their bodies. Though she 
seemed surprised and couldn't look him in the eye, she didn't try to push him 
away either.
     Oh baby, she smelled like heaven, clean and flowery. Even her hair, which 
he buried his face in, smelled good. Her hands barely touched the sides of his 
coat, as if it would be too aggressive to put her arms around him. Never mind 
that he was surrounding her like a coiled boa constrictor. He felt like he was 
under a spell, it was so right. 
     The minute he started wondering if she wanted to get away, her body gave 
him a sign. Against his bare chest, her heartbeat was racing, as was the pulse 
in her throat.
     "You feel good," he said into her ear, only inches from his mouth.
     "What?" she stammered, sounding like someone who'd just woke up. "Yes, I 
feel fine."
     He grinned. "Yeah. You do, but I meant your body feels good against mine. 
In my arms."
     She made a noise like a hiccup, and he couldn't help chuckling as he hugged 
her tighter. What a sweetheart. Man, he was going to enjoy getting her to give 
in to him.
         

       Bethany led the way back to their table on legs of sponge. The conflict 
of emotions roiling through her body were strange and pleasant, and she was 
afraid of them, afraid to feel them in public or, worse, when she was alone with 
Rod.
     He had held her so close on the dance floor. Closer than anyone had ever 
held her before. His body was so strong, he smelled so good. She had wanted to 
stay there in his arms forever. 
     There was fear involved too, because she couldn't control a man like this. 
He was too wild and. . .experienced. That was exactly what Randy had warned her 
of before she'd assured him she would never see Rod again. When she'd assumed 
that Rod couldn't possibly be interested in her since he had someone as wild and 
experienced as Nicole Martini.
     They spent another half hour over coffee, and when Rod asked her what else 
she wanted to do, she told him she was tired after working all day. It 
embarrassed her to lie. Her salon didn't get enough business for her to leave it 
exhausted each day. The truth was, she'd never been less tired in her life. If 
she could trust him and herself, she would love to spend a few more hours with 
him. But she was feeling too much too soon, something she'd come to distrust 
since her experience with Scott Reeves.
     Rod asked her again, once they arrived at her apartment building, making it 
harder for her to say no a second time. Her nervousness increased as he walked 
her up to her apartment and she unlocked the door. How was he planning to say 
goodbye? She never allowed her dates to kiss her on the first date, rarely even 
the second. Yet she wanted Rod to kiss her.
     "Can I call you?" he asked when she turned back to him from her open door.
     "Yes. Please. I can give you the phone number--"
     "I already have it."
     It wasn't listed, but if he'd gotten her address her telephone number 
wouldn't be any harder to get.
     She nodded, keeping her eyes lowered. "Thank you for flowers. And dinner."
     "I had a good time." 
     It was hard for her to believe. She certainly wasn't a "good time" gal. He 
hadn't gotten his money's worth from her. "I did too." Risking a glance at him, 
she hoped and dreaded giving him a go-ahead sign.
     With his strong, tapered fingers, he lifted her chin. "Really? You really 
had a good time?"
     He was touching her, looking right into her eyes. Blushing was the most 
natural thing in the world for her to do. "Yes. I really enjoyed. . ."
     "Just a hug. Is that OK, sweetness?"
     He had to know that she couldn't say yes or no to that. Without waiting for 
it, he pulled her into a warm embrace. There was no room for her to maneuver if 
she wanted to reciprocate. Her hands pressed against his rock hard stomach. 
Either she left them where they were, perhaps leading him to believe that she 
didn't like him, or she slid them around his waist on the inside of his coat 
because the outside would be impossible without pushing him away.
     Slowly, her hands trembling, she eased her arms around to his back and 
returned his hug. The feel of his muscled skin made her hands want to stroke, 
the way a piece of satin did.
     He stroked her back, and she melted. It came as a shock to her when he 
pulled away, took her hands and kissed them. "I'll call you."
     Before she could nod or say goodnight, he walked away. He hadn't kissed 
her.
     Bethany had never been more disappointed in her life.
         
     Rod let himself into his sister's house twenty minutes later, and was 
greeted by Josie's German Shepherd. "Hey, Cam." Cameron was only happy when he 
was the center of attention, so Rod kneeled down and petted him until the dog 
was all but drooling.
     In his bedroom, Rod undressed and got under the sheet. 
     If he'd pushed just a little, he could have been in pretty Bethany's bed 
tonight. In his lifetime, he'd charmed his way into the bed of every woman he'd 
ever wanted. It would have been easy, but Bethany might never have looked at him 
again. She would have regretted it.
     Just from holding her for a minute, he'd known he had to walk away 
unsatisfied or wake up to her humiliation. She aroused him that much, that a 
kiss would have been walking a tightrope for him.
     Was he getting morals this late in life? Or was he half in love with 
Bethany? He'd only left her forty-five minutes ago, but already he missed her. 
Glancing at the clock, he decided that nobody went to bed at nine o'clock, no 
matter how hard a day they'd had. 
     He picked up the phone and dialed the number he'd memorized while waiting 
for the delivery guy to haul all the flowers into her apartment. He wouldn't 
keep her up for more than a minute or two, just long enough to hear her voice 
for his dreams.
     "Hello?" Her voice was as pretty over the phone as it was in person. Only 
this way was right in his ear.
     "Hi. Did I wake you up?"
     "Rod? Um, no. I was cleaning up the bathroom. I wasn't expecting you to 
call so soon."
     Cameron came in the room and jumped up on the bed, probably as relieved as 
Rod was that Nicole was gone and he didn't have to sleep on the floor anymore.
     "This one doesn't count. I just wanted to hear your voice before I went to 
sleep."
     "Oh," she said softly in wonder. He might not have heard her if the house 
wasn't so quiet.
     "I'll still call you tomorrow."
     "OK."
     "OK then. Night, sweetness. I'll be dreaming of you." 
     He didn't expect her to say anything, and she didn't because he knew she 
was blushing.
     Well, he knew for sure he wasn't getting morals this late in life. 



CHAPTER THREE
     Bethany finally found the card the next morning while rearranging the 
flowers throughout the apartment. All it said, all it needed to say, was "Love, 
Rod."
     Since her sleep had been light, she woke at 5:30. Following a shower, she 
sat in the kitchen sipping coffee as she looked at a large group of flowers in 
the middle of the table with the card propped against it.
     Up until his call last night, she'd been worried she'd never see him again. 
Why else would he walk away the way that he did? 
     In the '90's, men and women played games in love. Bethany knew that, and it 
was part of the reason she couldn't seem to fit into modern-day courtship. 
     The biggest truth was that she knew next to nothing about Rod Summers, so 
she certainly couldn't say anything for certain. Yet she had the feeling in the 
pit of her stomach that Rod didn't like playing games, either. He was so honest, 
so boyish and sweet. How could any of that be an act meant to tease her?
     Still, she had to consider the fact that he went through women like clean 
socks. That was certainly part and parcel to modern mating rituals.
     Love. Undying, tried and true love. It was what Bethany wanted.
     Sighing, she lifted the card and traced the words with the tip of a nail. 
She shouldn't be feeling this way, especially after only one date. And what 
would Randy say? He'd think she was so head over heels that she couldn't see if 
Rod was using her.
     The only problem with that, she thought defensively as she replaced the 
card against the vase, was that she was not the kind of woman who fell in love 
easily. Scott Reeves was the only man she'd ever thought herself in love with 
and that had been seven years ago. She hadn't felt anything remotely like she 
was feeling now since Scott. Even he faded next to Rod. Randy would just have to 
accept that she was a big girl now.
     Somehow, she didn't feel like a big girl inside. The mere memory of the way 
Rod had caressed her hand, kissed it, and held her during the dance and later 
made her tremble inside. How could she control him? How could she make him 
understand that she hadn't done even an eighth of the things Nicole Martini must 
have done? Would he respect her for her inexperience?
     Oh gosh, she was wishing for the impossible. She couldn't hold onto a man 
like Rod, because he would want too much too soon. Too much she couldn't give 
him. Men rarely settled for heart love over physical love. They didn't want to 
be told as much as they wanted to be shown.
     Feeling dejected, she got up to refill her coffee cup. As her fingers 
closed around the handle of the carafe, someone knocked on the door. 
     She was accustomed to knocks on her neighbors' doors, sounding as though 
they were meant for her, but to be sure she went to the peephole.
     Rod stood there. It wasn't even six o'clock in the morning, and she was 
still in her robe. She was always in her robe when he came unexpectedly.
     Closing the robe around her matching pajamas, she tied the sash tightly and 
then unlocked the door. "Rod," she greeted breathlessly, trying not to check him 
out. He wore old jeans and a leather jacket. His stomach was bare again. For 
some reason, the thought that this man liked to be half-naked made her redden.
     "Good, I was afraid I'd wake you up. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come 
over."
     "I guess we shouldn't have had coffee so late," she said, realizing 
belatedly she'd admitted she couldn't sleep either.
     Rod stepped in closer. "Had nothing to do with coffee, sweetness. I wanted 
to be with you again."
     Before she could lower her gaze in correspondence with her blush of 
pleasure, he caught her chin. "God, you look as pretty in the morning as I 
thought you would."
     His face was only inches from her own, and she found that she couldn't look 
away. Up close, his eyes were even more beautiful. He didn't look like a man who 
hadn't slept. He looked like he was used to being up at this time of the morning 
and was ready for anything.
     Abruptly, he turned away, back out to the hall and called "Cam."
     Bethany snapped back to reality and panicked. Had he brought a friend to 
her apartment this early in the morning? She was still in her robe!
     His friend's breathing could be heard before she actually saw him, and then 
a big German Shepherd appeared in her doorway. Bethany was so relieved, she 
almost burst into tears. "Oh, he's beautiful." 
     The dog was almost all white except for a few gray and black hairs here and 
there, in his ears especially. Kneeling down, she took the dog's head in her 
hands and stroked the coarse hair on top, which he seemed to enjoy immensely.
     "This is your dog?" she asked Rod, smiling as the dog panted loudly and 
tried to lick her face.
     "No, he's my sister's. His name's Cameron. You don't mind, do you? He 
wanted to get out of the house."
     "Of course not, but you better bring him in. Pets aren't allowed in the 
building."
     She stood and locked the door once the both of them were inside. Rod 
shrugged out of his jacket, leaving him in only a textured leather vest that 
made his skin look like pure silk.
     Wrapping her arms around her chest, suddenly unsure, Bethany watched him 
toss his jacket carelessly over a chair.
     "Is that coffee I smell?" he asked, a bold self-invitation that she was 
grateful for and a little amazed by. She found it difficult to ask someone to 
return her possessions if she'd loaned them out months before. Rod seemed to be 
comfortable and confident everywhere.
     "Yes. Would you like some?"
     He grinned, looking like a little boy again. "Please."
     If she'd had the nerve, she would have kissed him right there and then, he 
was so irresistible. But instead her face flamed. She led him into the kitchen.
     "I don't think I've ever seen six o'clock in the morning before. So this is 
what it looks like."
     "When do you usually sleep?" she asked quietly, taking down a mug and 
carefully pouring coffee into it.
     Rod leaned against the counter near her, taking the mug when she offered 
it. "Depends on what the work's like at the shop. But I usually go to bed around 
one in the morning and get up around ten."
     The mere idea horrified Bethany, but she didn't say anything about it. 
Somehow it seemed immature to say that she could barely keep her eyes open after 
9:30 at night.
     "Have you eaten? I could make you breakfast." It would make things easier 
on her. She'd have something to do with her hands.
     "What do you have in mind?"
     The way he looked at her reminded her of what he'd said last night. About 
her making breakfast for him.
     "Anything. I could make you waffles if you like."
     Turning toward her, Rod smiled slightly. "Really? You'd make me waffles?"
     "If you like them."
     "They're my favorite."
     Whether or not he was saying it just to be nice, she wasn't sure. But she'd 
make him the best waffles he'd ever taste. "OK. You can sit down. I'll have them 
ready in a few minutes." 
     As she reached for a cookbook, a little relieved that he'd moved away, it 
occurred to her she shouldn't be cooking in front of him in only her mid-thigh 
robe and pajamas. "Maybe I should get dressed," she said, setting down the 
cookbook.
     "Hey, no! Give me something to do, huh? I like looking at your legs."
     When her mouth opened in shock, he grinned. "You're properly covered, 
Bethany. You wouldn't cover up your pretty face, would you?"
     The idea of Rod staring at her legs while she cooked unnerved her, but 
since she didn't own a single pair of slacks, even if she changed, her legs 
would be bare.
     Turning away from him mutely, she began preparing the waffles, trying not 
to think about him behind her, perhaps watching her.
     In an unpretentious way, Bethany could admit to herself she was attractive. 
Attractive to businessmen and lawyers. Wild men thought she was a novelty, but 
she'd discovered that most of them preferred ostentatious women who felt 
comfortable displaying their privates in public. Rod would be interested in her 
until everything was revealed. She knew that even if she could see him as 
nothing except adorably genuine.
     After adding a splash of vanilla to the waffle batter, she started cooking 
them. Blueberries and a sprig of fresh parsley added to the beauty of the plate 
she set in front of Rod with the syrup.
     A quick compliment on how good it looked was all the ado he gave before he 
dug in. Bethany smiled because she felt appreciated when men enjoyed her 
cooking. Rod ate all she set before him, as though he hadn't eaten in days.
     "You're a good cook," he said as she poured the last of the second batch 
into the waffle maker.
     "My brother taught me. He's the only one I usually cook for."
     Rod grinned, setting down his fork. "So you're used to making a lot?" 
     "Well, yes. Randy's over 6'4, almost 250 pounds of muscle."
     Getting up, Rod brought his mug over to help himself more coffee. "6'4? 
How'd a tiny little thing like you get a brother that huge?"
     She blushed, unable to answer, because he was looking her body over as 
closely as he would something he was considering buying.
     "Is that the last one?" He indicated the waffle she removed from the iron.
     She nodded.
     "Did you have breakfast yet?"
     "No, but I can make more--"
     Without any compunction, he opened cupboards until he found a plate, then a 
fork. "Sit down."
     Bethany was so surprised, she did as he instructed and allowed him to serve 
her. Setting a plate every bit as beautiful as she'd set before him, he sat next 
to her, put syrup on the waffle, and cut a piece for her. Embarrassed and 
flattered when he lifted the fork to her mouth, she accepted the bite without 
looking directly at him. After that, he allowed her to feed herself as he poured 
her a fresh cup of coffee.
     "Thank you. You don't need to serve me," she said softly, dabbing her mouth 
with a napkin.
     "Thank you, sweetness. No one's ever cooked for me before. Except at 
restaurants, but then I have to pay them for it."
     "No one? Not even your sister or your mother?" Bethany was strangely 
saddened by his revelation.
     "Josie doesn't have time to cook, and I suppose my old lady must've cooked 
for me when I was about. . .two. But I moved out when I was twelve. Blackie kept 
us fed with take-out."
     She remembered from last night's dinner conversation that one of his 
friend's names was Blackie.. "None of your girlfriends could cook?" Out of the 
thousands, there wasn't one who had tried 
the-way-to-a-man's-heart-is-through-the-stomach?
     "None of them were the type." Indolently, he wrapped a strand of her hair 
around his index finger. "You didn't have to either, but it was nice of you."
     She could feel the slight tugging at the roots of her hair, and it made her 
long for a real touch from his hand. Or his mouth.
     Disconcerted, afraid of her own thoughts, she mumbled, "I didn't mind at 
all" and took another bite of her cooling waffle. She managed to get a little 
more than half of it down with the butterflies already occupying her stomach, 
then Rod gave the rest to the dog.
     "Are dogs supposed to eat waffles?" she asked, slightly alarmed as she 
watched Cameron wolf it down.
     Rod shrugged. "He'll eat anything you give him. I give him donuts all the 
time."
     "But his teeth. . ."
     "Josie brings him in to have 'em cleaned every couple months. Whenever 
she's home."
     Bethany stood up, gathering the dirty dishes into a pile. "I didn't know 
there were dog dentists."
     For some reason, Rod burst into laughter at her comment, which made her 
feel silly. She brought the dishes to the dishwasher and began to load, taking 
the plate Cameron had been eating from when Rod brought it to her.
     "Is Josie your sister's name?" she asked quietly.
     "Her name is JoJo. I call her Josie--she hates it." He gave a wicked, 
boyish grin before turning back to the table.
     "You know, I was thinking," he said a second later, handing her their 
coffee mugs. "I'd like you to meet my friends, Jon and Blackie."
     "Oh?" was all she could utter. She wasn't ready for friends, she wasn't 
even comfortable with him yet.
     "Yeah. They're down in Milwaukee, but that's only a couple hours. 
         It's. . .what? 6:30? We could be down there by ten at the latest."
     Bethany straightened to look at him. He couldn't be serious, could he? "I 
don't know. It's a long drive there. And back."
     "We could stay overnight. Or not, cuz it's not that far to me. I don't mind 
the drive."
     There was no way she would feel comfortable spending the night, whatever 
that might entail to him. But when he said "What do you say?" as eagerly as a 
child Christmas morning, she found herself unable to do anything except agree. 
"But I can't stay overnight."
     "No problem. I'll bring you back tonight."
     Closing the dishwasher and starting the cycle, Bethany murmured, "I'll go 
get dressed then."
     "Wear something warm. It might get cold later."
     That made her worry that the first winter storm would come on this crazy 
jaunt to Milwaukee, though it was only early November. Actually, it wouldn't be 
terrible, she decided, locking her bedroom door and going to her closet. Winter 
was her favorite season, despite the cold temperatures she had to walk to work 
and home in. She loved it when it snowed, even blizzards. She wouldn't mind 
being with Rod when the first winter snow came. It would be all the more 
magical.
     Removing her robe and silk pajamas, she put on a bra that matched her 
underwear, and shimmery pantyhose. Nothing in her closet was appropriate for 
meeting his friends. She didn't even know their destination. It could be 
someone's house, a bar, or anywhere. 
     Maybe she should have refused to meet his friends so early in their 
relationship, but it fit into Rod's personality. He seemed to move fast on 
everything. How many of his girlfriends had met his friends? Did it mean 
anything that he wanted her to meet them?
     The only thing remotely "wild" in her closet was a white leather skirt. 
Even that was more sophisticated on her than wild. She put it on with a light 
pink sweater and white pumps, then quickly applied a little make-up. The drive 
would be long, so they had to get going soon.
     The butterflies in her stomach fluttered in agitation before they'd even 
gotten in his car. She wouldn't fit in with his friends, and she'd be the first 
to admit it. What if they hated her? What if they were mean? Would Rod leave her 
to find her own ride home if he chose his girlfriends on the basis of his 
friends' approval?
     Her terror must have shown on her face, because Rod said, "They're gonna 
love you, Bethany. Don't worry about it." 
     He seemed so sure, so intent on making certain she was assured of it. 
Whatever came of it, Rod did like her now. A man didn't look at a woman the way 
he was looking at her if he didn't like her a little. She already liked him so 
much, everything seemed to matter. His views on having babies mattered to her!
     Instead of turning to start the car, he leaned forward and kissed her 
mouth, feather soft. Before she even comprehended what he was doing it was over. 
Then she was trembling and aching, certain he'd be the love of her life, even if 
it meant lost love.
         

     Rod's personal speed limit was 70 to 75 mph, and he'd never had an accident 
or gotten a ticket. They arrived at Rainbow Nights a little before ten. They'd 
stopped at a few gas stations to stretch and so Bethany could use the rest room. 

     Surprisingly, he wasn't half-dead with fatigue, the way he'd be any other 
time. He decided he didn't need sleep if he had Bethany Briggs in his life.
     "Can we go in this way?" she asked as they went in the back entrance of the 
nightclub, to the apartment.
     Cameron ran in ahead of them, and they heard a voice from the living room. 
Bethany glanced back at Rod warily. 
     Oh baby, she looked so soft and pretty in that sweater. Her face was so 
tiny, framed by her silky blond hair. He wanted to hug her until she stopped 
being nervous. Who couldn't love her? She was completely irresistible.
     Lori came out of the living room with Cam. "Hi. I thought JoJo was home." 
     The owner of Rainbow Nights, Jerry Gordon, hadn't raised a shy daughter. 
Lori was street-smart and disillusioned by everything--at the age of 
fifteen--except Blackie. He was like a god to her. 
     For once, Lori seemed a little reserved.
     "Nope. This is Bethany."
     When he introduced her to Lori, Bethany moved forward and extended her 
hand. Lori glanced at Rod with an eyebrow raised. Then she tucked her red hair 
behind her ears and shook Bethany's hand like it was an alien ritual.
     "Where's everybody?" Rod asked, moving to stand behind Bethany.
     "Oh. Blackie's in the shower. Jon's having coffee, and daddy and Morris are 
in the bar."
     Without another word, Lori went down the hall and out to the bar. Rod 
pivoted to faced Bethany and saw a blaze in her cheeks. God, he wanted to kiss 
her and slide his hands under her fluffy sweater and cup her tight little bottom 
in his hands. If only a man had more hands.
     Dreaming about her last night had been torture, which was why he'd foregone 
the phone call and went to see her this morning. He didn't know how much longer 
he could hold out. One kiss would make him insane for her, so he had to put that 
off just until she was a little less tense with him. 
     Man, he'd never had to wait this long for a woman. Whoever handed out the 
titles, he was ready to accept his status as a gentleman anytime.
     "How 'bout a hug?" 
     He didn't wait for her to agree. Taking the initiative was his policy in 
life. All his effort went into hugging her in a friendly way instead of sexual. 
     When he pulled back, he offered in a teasing voice, "Just so you know, my 
friends aren't the handshake type. We don't have those kind of manners. Polite 
ones, that is."
     "Oh." Being told to act naturally brought a flush to her face again, and he 
knew he couldn't wait a minute longer. She was too darn sweet to resist.
     Lifting her chin with his thumb and index finger, he lowered his mouth to 
her soft, unsuspecting lips. They opened in a gasp that had no sound, but he 
didn't rush his moves. He got to know the taste and texture of her lips until 
his blood pounded thunderously in his veins at her innocence. She hadn't kissed 
many men in her life. It was obvious by the wonder in her response. She wanted 
him, she wanted more, but she didn't know what to do with her desire.
     God, he loved it.
     Rod pulled her body against his, clutching handfuls of her fluffy sweater 
and rubbing it against her back, up and down. Slowly, he danced the tip of his 
tongue against the seam of her mouth. Oh baby, she was shaking. It made him 
crazy, knowing the effect he had on her. No one had ever trembled in his arms 
before. Shuddered, shimmied, screamed, yeah. But she was trembling, as if it was 
the first time anyone had ever kissed her like this. The one time she'd ever 
wanted anyone to.
     Man, he was in trouble this time. The kind of trouble he'd been looking for 
when he was twelve and had had his first lover. He'd always wanted someone who 
could need him and love him and ache for him. No one ever had.
     "JoJo home?" Blackie's voice made Bethany pull away from him and turn her 
back, though his friend walked into the kitchen without an answer.
     Knowing if he didn't do something, she wouldn't be able to look him in the 
face for a few hours, he brought her into a loose embrace and smiled at her. 
"Sorry. I should've made that more private, but then you'd really have a wild 
animal on your hands."
         

     Her lips felt as hot as her face did, even five minutes later. Rod didn't 
seem to feel any compunction facing his friends after they'd been caught. 
     Well, there was no reason for surprise. Scott Reeves had told her 
stories--horror stories to Bethany's mind--about things that went on in 
nightclubs. Sexual things that would have required utmost privacy for her, but 
hadn't with Scott's type. Scott informed her of those things to prove what a 
prude she was. And Bethany freely admitted it. Her brother had taught her to be 
a prude, and she was proud of it, considering the alternative.
     She didn't want to face his friends, having been caught in a moment she'd 
been completely mindless in Rod's arms. She'd felt, that was all. What she'd 
done, what he'd done was a blur to her. That kind of hedonism had only happened 
to her in the very beginning of her relationship with Scott, before the fear 
that he was always expecting more came, erasing all the excitement of her first 
love.
     As Rod led her by the hand into the kitchen, toward his friends, she tried 
to concentrate on anything except her own mortification.
     The apartment was in need of serious repairs. The paint was cracked, the 
wallpaper yellowed and faded. Everything smelled like. . .a hangover. 
     The two men, Rod's friends, didn't even look at them as they entered the 
kitchen. Leaning against the counter, the shorter one wasn't wearing anything 
except an unsnapped pair of jeans. His mane of blondish-brown hair went in every 
direction. As if he was half asleep, he drank coffee from a huge mug with a 
cartoon character on it.
     The other one, the one who'd caught them, was pouring coffee. His hair was 
wet, and he was dressed all in black. This had to be "Blackie." Bethany had 
never seen a face more shuttered than his. Nothing could be told from his 
expression, his dark, forbidding eyes or the hard lines of his mouth. Maybe he 
really thought nothing of catching her and Rod together. 
     "Josie's not back," Rod said, and they both looked up. "I want you guys to 
meet somebody."
     She started to smile, to be polite, but the swinging door behind her pushed 
in, hitting her. Rod pulled her out of the way belatedly, and the young girl 
with the red hair came in. "Sorry. Didn't know everybody was in here."
     Feeling foolish, Bethany murmured, "It's all right. I'm fine." Never mind 
the bump on the back of her head and the paddling her behind had received. She 
was in the way because she didn't belong here. 
     Bethany watched the girl, Lori, move around the table, wrap her arms around 
Blackie's shoulders and kiss him. In a husky voice, she said, "Are you finally 
out? I was just about to climb in the shower with you and give you a wake-up 
call."
     There was only enough time for Bethany to be horrified, because Blackie had 
to be at least thirty years old, before Rod told her his friends' names. 
     Blackie mumbled "Hey" (whatever that meant). Jon Rushing said the same 
before going back to being uninterested in life.
     "Want some coffee?" Rod asked, and she shook her head.
     When he moved to get some for himself, she looked around furtively, wishing 
she was meeting these people in her own apartment. Then she could clean 
something instead of standing here with nothing for her hands to do.
     "Do you own a haircut place?"
     She turned toward Jon, who was looking at her sweater. Obviously she'd 
dressed wrong, though Rod had said she looked "gorgeous" before they left her 
apartment. The four of them wore old jeans. "Yes. I own a beauty salon in 
Stevens Point," she said in answer to his question, unclasping her hands in 
order to cross her arms in front of her breasts.
     "I think you cut my hair a couple times."
     No. She would have remembered him. "Really? I don't recall," she said, 
trying to be tactful of his ego, if he was one of those men who liked to be 
remembered.
     "Yeah. Somebody with blond hair and blue eyes." 
     He'd moved forward, closer to her, and despite the unruliness of his 
uncombed hair, she had to admit that he was attractive.
     "You must mean Kimberly. She's one of my employees."
     Nodding slowly, he let his gaze amble over her with a smile. Much to her 
relief, Rod returned to her side. "Too bad," Jon said. "I might've gotten to you 
first and saved you from this loser."
     "You must be talking about yourself," Rod returned with every bit of the 
friendliness Jon had put into his insult.
     Bethany managed a wobbly smile when Rod put his arm around her and glanced 
down at her proudly. In spite of the strangers around her and how embarrassed 
she'd be after, she wanted Rod to kiss her again. He had such a soft mouth, and 
his taste was so. . .dangerous. He'd been seductive without being aggressive or 
assuming. For once, she'd felt like a man wasn't just trying to see how much he 
could get away with and how far he could go. Somehow, Rod had made it seem like 
he was as swept away by their kiss as she'd been. Was it possible that a man 
could get lost in passion the way a woman did, instead of calculating it?
     Maybe I don't belong with his friends, Bethany thought, but I do belong 
with him. She'd never been so certain of anything in her life.
     

     Rod watched Bethany disappear into the alcove where the restrooms were. It 
was after seven p.m. and the live band on stage had just finished its opening 
number. For once, he wasn't interested in the music at Rainbow Nights.
     Leaning over the back of his chair, which faced the table, he asked Jon and 
Blackie eagerly, "So, what do you think? She's pretty incredible, huh?"
     Jon creased his napkin into geometric patterns almost unconsciously. His 
paper folding hobby had started when he was in his single-digits. "What do you 
think we think, man? She's a goddess. You don't belong with her."
     Rod glanced from Jon to Blackie, who lit a cigarette without any expression 
on his face. This wasn't what Rod expected. Honesty, sure. Jon had no problem 
being straightforward. Blackie rarely said anything about anything, but Rod had 
known him practically forever so he had some idea how to interpret Blackie's 
blank or masked faces. He agreed with Jon.
     "What do you mean I don't belong with her?" Rod demanded, hurt because all 
day he'd been thinking they were the perfect couple. Everything about Bethany 
fit him, and he fit her. They balanced each other.
     "Look at yourself. Look at her. You're leather, she's lace."
     Another selling point to Rod. "So what? Opposites attract."
     Lori came over with fresh bottles of beer for all of them and took the old 
ones.
     "I'm in love with her," Rod said, when he turned back to his friends.
     He was well-aware of his own faults--rushing into things was one of his 
biggest. But this time was different. This was Bethany. He couldn't see himself 
getting bored with her after they made love once or twice. 
     Getting bored was something he'd always considered inevitable before he 
even started a relationship. None of the women he got involved with were 
thinking about the future of the relationship. They didn't think about getting 
serious, like marriage or babies. 
     "When'd you meet her?" Blackie ventured a rare question.
     "Thursday. When I went to pick Nicole up from the beauty salon."
     Very few could have read Blackie's emotions, but Rod could and did. Without 
doing anything, he'd mentally rolled his eyes in disbelief.
     Jon snorted, just as doubtful about the validity of Rod's feelings. "That 
lady's out of your league, brother. Nicole on the other hand. . ."
     The hypocrisy was blatant. Jon was a total screw-up with women. At sixteen, 
he'd fallen in love with a woman "out of his league", way out, and he was still 
in love with that woman despite the fact that she was married and had three 
kids. And Blackie. . . Well, Blackie didn't have to show it or voice it for Rod 
to know that he (a thirty-four-year-old man) was completely in love with 
not-yet-nineteen Lori Gordon. Blackie had spent three years feeling guilty about 
that while he made it with every other woman of legal age. At least Rod had 
normal involvements that ended with no regrets and no remorse. This time, with 
Bethany, it wouldn't end if he could talk her into falling for him too.
     "She's a virgin," Blackie said out of the blue.
     Rod sat there stupefied for a minute, and then realized Blackie meant 
Bethany was a virgin. While she was the sweetest, most innocent lady he'd ever 
met, Rod couldn't believe it. "No way! There's no virgins over the age fifteen 
left in the world!"
     "Not while the three of us are alive," Jon agreed.
     Personally, Rod had never known a female virgin, had never been with one. 
Nobody valued virginity anymore. People rarely valued sex as an act of love. It 
was just a hunger to be satisfied and experimented with. Maybe he'd gone into a 
few involvements purely for the sex, but mostly he was searching for an end to 
the loneliness, for an emotional rescue, for someone to love and someone to love 
him permanently. He was twenty-seven years old. He didn't want to be Blackie's 
age and still alone.
     "Well, she's been in there a good ten minutes. I think she must've crawled 
out the window and escaped," Jon teased him.
     Rod glanced at his watch and gave in to the impulse to go check on her. 
When he stood up, twirling the chair back toward the table properly, Jon said, 
"Seriously, I hope it works out, Rod. You two look good together."
     The encouragement was new. Jon had never said anything like it before, but 
then why would he? Rod had never claimed to be seriously in love with any woman 
before. Giving Jon a grin and a slap on the back in gratitude, he went to check 
on the woman of his dreams.
     Bethany had just nudged her way out of the crowded hallway, away from the 
ladies' restroom, when Rod entered the alcove. Her brow was furrowed until she 
saw him leaning against the doorway of the infrequently used coat room.
     He didn't notice Nicole Martini behind her, but she made herself known when 
she walked past Bethany, saying "Take heed, little sister" and gave Rod an icy 
glance.
     "Hi." Bethany managed a smile. "Are we leaving?"
     "What did she say to you?"
     Looking surprised, her mouth closed tightly, Bethany shook her head. 
"Nothing."
     "You had a funny look on your face when you came out, and Nicole said 
something." He took her slight shoulders in his hands, making sure she faced 
him. Bethany couldn't lie, she was too sweet. 
     "I just have a headache. It's nothing serious, Rod. Really."
     She wasn't a liar, but Nicole had left him with a stone in her shoe. 
Letting it go as something between the two women wasn't something he could do. 
He was too protective of Bethany already.
     "Do you mind if we leave soon? It's already after seven, and it's a long 
drive back--"
     She looked so sweet, trying not to offend him at the same time she wanted 
to make sure he knew his answer would decide some things for her. Rod wasn't 
about to make a mistake this early in the going.
     Putting his arms around her waist, he pivoted until his back touched the 
wall in the coat room, where they were afforded a little privacy. Astonishingly, 
she seemed too mesmerized to care about anyone seeing them when he lowered his 
mouth to her freshly lipsticked one.
     He watched her eyes drift closed, as if she was in a state of overwhelming 
bliss. Oh baby, he could kiss her forever she was so responsive and she tasted 
like candy. Yeah, he wanted to take her home, to his home, her home, take her to 
bed. This had been the longest wait of his life.
     Drawing back, he cupped her face in his hands and looked into her 
pink-tinged face. She'd invite him into her bed, with or without the words. He'd 
make sure she didn't regret it in the morning. "I'll take you home."
     When she lowered her gaze, he let her go. They went to say a quick goodbye 
to Blackie and Jon, then Rod gave her his car keys, saying he'd be out in a 
minute.
     He spotted Nicole at the bar. Cutting between her and the guy coming on to 
her, he demanded, "What did you say to her, Nicole?"
     Turning to face him slowly, she blew the smoke from her cigarette in his 
face--something she knew he hated. "Nothing that the many predecessors wouldn't 
have."
     "Doing the sisterly thing, is that it?" he guessed snidely.
     She smiled with her mouth only. "Here's some free advice: that baby's a 
Kewpie doll. She'll break easily if you get bored with her in a week. Maybe 
she'll last two, since she's a novelty for you. Maybe it's not too late for you 
to get a heart."
     God! She was acting like they'd been together months and then he'd blown 
her off. They'd had less than a week. He'd met her here, slept with her that 
night upstairs in one of Jerry Gordon's many guest bedrooms. She'd gone home 
with him Monday. As for sex, they'd done it, maybe, five or six times, which 
wasn't even enough to qualify for an affair.
     "You got exactly what you went in expecting, Nicole. So don't play the 
martyr now. I didn't play with your heart any more than you did mine. Just leave 
Bethany alone. She doesn't need your advice."
     "I was always told that forewarned is forearmed. But don't worry. I'm not 
interested enough in messing up your life to bother either of you."
     That was all he needed to hear. From only knowing Nicole Martini for a 
handful of days, he was sure she wasn't the type to speak idle words. Everything 
was above board with her.
     Maybe it'd be better to stay out of public with Bethany for awhile, he 
thought as he walked out to his car with Cameron at his side. What happened with 
Nicole, how it'd ended, had happened to him a lot, on something of a national 
scale. There were probably a lot of women out there who wanted to give out "free 
advice" about him. He didn't want Bethany to think it would end like that with 
her.
     "So, what'd you think of my friends?" he asked once they were on the road. 
     She'd been shy during the day, as usual, but both Jon, Lori and Morris were 
outgoing people. Of course he thought all of his friends were likable.
     "They seemed nice," she gave what sounded like an honest answer. "How old 
is Lori?"
     "She just turned nineteen a couple months ago." Rod turned his head to look 
at her. Her hands were tightly clasped, the expression on her face unreadable.
     "Blackie must be at least thirty," she said softly.
     "Thirty-four."
     "Thirty-four!"
     It dawned on him that the age different between Lori and Blackie, 
considering their relationship, appalled her. "Oh. They don't sleep together, if 
that's what you think. Jerry wouldn't allow it. He just lets them. . .hang 
together, cuz Blackie promised to watch out for her."
     "But why would a man want to. . .?" Her question trailed off, as if she 
realized he might be offended by it.
     "See, Lori was pretty wild, when she was like twelve or thirteen. She hung 
around with these punks who did drugs and were always getting thrown in jail for 
something. Well, Lori's always been crazy about Blackie, so Jerry asked him to 
take care of her. Blackie tamed her."
     "I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to pry," Bethany murmured, obviously not 
understanding the relationship any more now than when all she'd had were 
assumptions. But it was no big deal. Nobody understood Blackie. Blackie probably 
didn't understand Blackie.
     She asked him who Morris was as if to ease the tension, and he explained 
that Morris was his sister's business partner and that he'd put up the 
collateral for the bike shop he owned with Jon and Blackie.
     They didn't talk again, and when Rod glanced at her a half hour later, she 
was asleep. He smiled because it meant she was sort of comfortable with him. 
Turning on the radio really low, he drove back to Stevens Point.
     He supposed he should have been as tired as she was. For someone who was 
used to sleeping quite a few hours later than he had the night before, he should 
have been exhausted. Yet he was wide awake, thinking about making love to 
Bethany. 
     Anticipation had always meant the same thing as gratification for him. He 
understood the difference now, and appreciated it. What reason had he ever 
needed to get to know a woman before he made love to her? Almost from the start, 
he'd known nothing serious would come of it. 
     This was different.
     Bethany had to be exhausted, because she didn't even wake up when they got 
to her apartment building sometime around 10:30. He got out of the car, let 
Cameron out of the back seat, then went around to the passenger side. He found 
the apartment keys in her purse and slung the bag over his shoulder. Lifting her 
slight weight from the seat didn't wake her either.
     She roused as he tried to maneuver the key in her apartment door, but 
didn't seem to realize or care what was happening. The lack of a blush from her 
sent a jolt through him. He felt as if she'd opened up a window to her soul for 
him to look inside without the guards.
     Cameron ran in ahead of them, then Rod kicked the door shut with his foot. 
     "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--" she started as he entered the living room, 
flipped on the lights, and sat in the chair with her on his lap.
     When she tried to turn, to stand, he held her more firmly. "Don't. Sit with 
me. I wanna hold you, sweetness."
     Bethany looked uncomfortably shy now, but he wasn't willing to step back 
away from that window yet. Glancing down, she tried to adjust her skirt, which 
had ridden up considerably.
     Rod lifted her chin. "I'm crazy about you, Bethany. I've never felt like 
this. I wanna spend every minute with you." He let his fingers trail over the 
shoulder and sleeve of her fuzzy sweater. "Do you like me even a little bit?"
     Of all the women he'd ever been involved with, every one of them would have 
been coy and said, "Maybe a little bit." Not Bethany. She let her lashes cover 
her embarrassment as she told him honestly, "I like you a lot, Rod. I like 
spending time with you."
     He became suddenly and fiercely hungry for her tenderness, her 
one-of-a-kind sweetness, when she glanced up at him demurely.
     Pulling her up so her breasts met his chest, he kissed her again. As 
aroused as he was, he wanted to go slow with her. He didn't know if a woman had 
ever fallen in love with him during
         all his brief relationships, but he wanted this woman to fall in love 
with him. That meant giving her all the time she needed to be sure of him. He 
wanted it to feel as right to her as it did to him.
     Feeling her hands glide lightly up his arms to his shoulders, he tilted his 
lap to get her closer to him. She responded to the solicitation of his tongue, 
allowing her lips to open a fraction. Her warmth was like a cocoon around him. 
God, how she fit him.
     She broke away breathlessly, pressing her face to his shoulder. Hugging her 
in return, he smoothed his hand over her long hair. "Pretty Bethany, I want you 
to be mine."
     Her quick intake of air made him smile. It didn't matter whether she 
believed him or not, as long as she gave him the time to prove himself.
         

     Bethany woke up annoyed, an emotion she'd only had rare experiences with. 
The sound of a ringing phone woke her. Sitting up, she asked herself harshly why 
she'd never had a line installed in her bedroom. Never mind that she always got 
up well before anyone would think to call.
     When the ringing continued, she flung back the covers and raced for the 
living room. It seemed to her the telephone had rang for a half hour, but the 
answering machine would have picked it up after the fourth ring.
     Grabbing up the phone from the endtable, she mumbled, "Hello? Hello?"
     "Bethie? Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick."
     Suddenly she felt like she'd been caught in something, especially when Rod 
rose from the couch and moved tiredly down the hallway to her bathroom.
     He'd spent the night! Oh gosh. Even if it wasn't. . .in her bed, it was 
more than she'd ever allowed before.
     "Randy, I'm sorry. What time is it?"
     "Eight o'clock. Where were you last night? I called until nine o'clock."
     Her brother sounded unusually upset, he was such a laid-back guy normally. 
Bethany couldn't seem to think clearly. Again, she'd hardly gotten any sleep, 
and she was more exhausted than she'd ever been in her life. She hadn't even 
consumed any alcohol yesterday.
     Moving around the couch, she perched on the sofa, rubbing her eyes. "I went 
to Milwaukee. It's a long drive, so I got back late." Her last three or four 
words were punctuated by a yawn she couldn't stifle.
     "What were you doing in Milwaukee? You've always been terrified of that 
place."
     Bethany was embarrassed to be reminded of that. Milwaukee seemed like such 
an. . .unchristian place. But she was too tired to explain or try to cover up. 
"I had a date. I'm fine, Randy. You don't need to worry. I'm sorry I wasn't here 
when you called."
     Randy wasn't about to change his colors just because she was obviously 
exhausted. When it came to his loved ones, he was a dog on a bone. "You had a 
date in Milwaukee, Bethie? There are things to do in Point, you know. Who is 
this guy?"
     By the way he expressed it, she suspected that he already knew and dreaded 
her answer. "It's Rod Summers, but don't worry, Randy. He's not like Scott 
Reeves. I promise."
     Rod stumbled back out to the living room. Seeing her on his "bed" didn't 
deter him. Slipping around her, he laid down again. He wrapped his arm around 
her from shoulder to fingertip before she could get away. He became a human 
clamp. 
     Unable to breathe, to understand a word of Randy's urgent advice filling 
her ear, Bethany glanced down at her nightie. In her haste to get the phone, she 
hadn't put on her robe, and her flesh was only a thin slash of silk away from 
his. He'd taken his vest off.
     They'd fallen asleep together in the chair. She'd awoken at some point and 
gone to bed, leaving her door open. Rod wasn't a threat. After last night, how 
few liberties he'd taken with her willingness, she trusted him so implicitly. It 
should have frightened her. She'd never trusted Scott, even in the beginning. 
Unlike Rod, Scott had taken what he could get and always pushed for more.
     "Bethie? Are you listening to me?" her brother's deep voice penetrated the 
paralysis she was in.
     "I'm sorry, Randy. I'm so tired, I'm not thinking straight."
     Pausing, as though her fatigue was also cause for worry, he finally 
relented. "I'll call you later in the afternoon."
     "OK."
     After the usual farewells, she leaned over as much as Rod would allow, to 
replace the receiver. As soon as she returned to a straight position, Rod 
wrapped his other arm around her hips, tucking her into him. Shocked, 
uncomfortable, on fire with longing, Bethany finally glanced down at him. He was 
asleep, with his head almost in her lap, looking so sweet she wanted to kiss 
him.
     But she was really exhausted, it hadn't just been a ploy to get off the 
telephone. In this state, she was liable to do anything. Anything she'd surely 
regret later.
     Taking hold of his arms, she attempted to extract herself from his hold, 
but he only cinched his arms tighter around her. He wouldn't let her go, she 
realized with less panic than she would have experienced at any other time in 
her life. If she wanted to go back to sleep, she'd have to do it here. 
     Glancing around, she acknowledged that the sofa was wide enough to hold 
them. He accommodated her easily when she lay down with him. 
     Her blush had no time to surface before she was asleep. 



CHAPTER FOUR
     Bethany woke warm and comfortable, with no idea where she was. Her bed 
wasn't this hard and. . .
     With a start, she realized she lay on top of someone. Rod. She was in his 
arms, in her bed. As silently as she could, she panicked, freezing up, afraid to
         move. Afraid he was awake and expecting. . .
     Oh gosh, how had they gotten in here? Why was she sprawled on top of him? 
She remembered nothing after she'd laid on the couch with him. As the world's 
lightest sleeper (unless she stayed up past her bedtime), she couldn't believe 
anything. . .intimate had happened without her remembering it. They were both 
still dressed. His zipper pressed into the skin just beneath her ribs hard 
enough to be as painful.
     The click of nails in the hallway drew her gaze instinctively, and she saw 
the dog standing in the bedroom doorway.
     The movement of her head had brought no reaction from Rod. Carefully, she 
raised her face to look at him. Sound asleep and looking as comfortable as he 
would in his own bed.
     Bethany was mortified. In her twenty-four years, a man had never shared her 
bed, had never held her while she slept. Since he was asleep, she could admit to 
herself she liked both of the new experiences. His body was so warm and 
muscular, and she fit into him perfectly. Embarrassed as she'd be if he woke, 
she couldn't help smiling as she looked down at him.
     Nicole Martini had probably been right, last night, in saying Rod was a bad 
boy with a short attention span. But he also looked like an angel when asleep. 
His brows were fine, silky arches over his closed eyes, and his lashes lay long 
and thick against his dark skin. This wasn't a dangerous man. When they got home 
last night, he'd been a perfect gentleman and he was even a gentleman in her 
bed. He hadn't tried to force her or seduce her in any way. She trusted him, 
frightening as it was.
     Running into the woman Rod claimed to have dumped for her in the restroom 
had been quite a surprise to Bethany. To be honest, she'd been a little afraid. 
Nicole was a woman who looked like she could take care of herself. She wouldn't 
relish losing. Yet Bethany's impression of her changed when Nicole said, "He's 
gonna break your heart, you know. It's what he does best, honey" in a protective 
tone of voice. "You're a sweet kid, and you don't deserve to be hurt without a 
forewarning. You're not in love with him, are you?"
     Bethany had lowered her gaze at the bold question, only to find herself 
even more shocked by the dress Nicole wore. A dress that could better have 
served as a rubber band. 
     Why would Rod want her? Bethany had wondered. Nicole was certainly his 
type. "I. . .I just met him. . ." she stammered before remembering that Nicole 
knew exactly when she'd met Rod.
     Turning from the mirror, Nicole replaced the cap on a tube of vixen red 
lipstick. "You deserve better than a couple nights in his bed, sweetie. He's a 
rogue, you're an innocent. I can understand why he'd be interested and why you'd 
be looking for a little danger. But take my advice, kid: Guys like Rod Summers 
are more interested in the flame than the fire. They run when the heat is on. 
It's not worth it."
     Unable to respond, because she didn't know the other woman's intentions, 
Bethany had only been more surprised when Nicole squeezed her hand. "We're on 
the same side, baby. I've been around the block, so I've seen my share of 
losers. Rod Summers is the kingpin."
     Bethany didn't know what that meant, but she didn't believe Rod was a 
loser. He was so sweet to her, she couldn't believe he could hurt and use her as 
thoughtlessly as Nicole Martini implied.
     Looking at him now in the morning sunshine, she couldn't believe he'd be 
anything except the man of her dreams. Already he meant too much to her to 
accept Nicole's warning.
     He was beautiful and sweet. Innocent, like a child, yet a sexy, sensual, 
and virile man. For Bethany, it was the highest praise that he reminded her of 
her brother. It didn't matter to her what anyone said to denounce him in her 
eyes. Maybe he was different with her. 
     Still, it wasn't in her to rush things or to push them to the limit. As 
wonderful as his body felt against hers and his arms felt around her, she wasn't 
ready for it to become any more than that.
     As carefully as she could, she eased herself away from him, hoping he was 
asleep soundly enough not to grab on to her and refuse to let go again. She 
managed to escape without disturbing him and retrieved some clothes from her 
closet.
     While she showered, she wondered what his friends thought of her. Lori had 
become a little more friendly as the day progressed yesterday, and Bethany liked 
her. Lori's father was sweet and gruff. Morris had been too inebriated to 
assess. 
     Jon was funny and likable, though he'd embarrassed her by coming on to her. 
(She was sure he hadn't been serious.) Blackie hadn't said a dozen words to her 
or anyone else. Despite how much she disapproved of any kind of relationship 
other than a sisterly friendship he might have with young Lori, she'd liked him. 
She sensed that, beneath the dark exterior of the man, goodness existed beside 
the torment.
     None of Rod's friends treated her like an outcast. But she suspected it 
wasn't because they were too polite to be that rude, as much as it was that they 
were accustomed to Rod's undeniable instability with women. They'd simply 
learned to adapt quickly.
     As she fixed her hair, she realized it was Sunday. She hadn't missed church
         . . . ever. It was 10:30 already. The morning service started in 
fifteen minutes. But what to do about Rod? Leaving him in her apartment alone 
would be rude. 
     After debating for a minute or two, she decided he'd most likely sleep 
until she got back at noon. She left him a note and gave his dog water before 
leaving for the church only a few blocks away. 
     The sermon was appropriate to her mood. 1 Corinthians 13--the "love 
chapter." She felt no embarrassment or shame remembering the feel of Rod's lips 
against hers throughout the pastor's allocution.
     Following the service, she stayed only long enough to talk a little with 
the pastor. He was young, and she'd gone on a date with him, years ago, though 
she wasn't attracted to him. His wife had died of cancer a year after he'd 
finished seminary and came to pastor the church. Bethany had felt bad for him, 
because he was lonely and heartbroken. He hadn't asked her out again after the 
first date, something she might never have given a second thought to if Randy 
hadn't asked her why.
     She suspected her brother would approve of her dating or marrying a pastor, 
unlike his reaction to Rod Summers. How was she going to explain things to him 
when he called later in the day? She couldn't lie to Randy, and disappointing 
         him. . . Well, the only time she'd sensed disapproval from him was when 
she'd told him everything about her relationship with Scott Reeves, after the 
fact. He hadn't liked being closed out of her life, even though what she'd had 
with Scott only lasted two weeks.
     On her way home, she stopped to buy a can of dog food. Her apartment was 
quiet when she unlocked the door. Cameron ran to greet her, refraining from 
barking, thankfully. 
     For such a big dog, he was unbelievably gentle. He did everything short of 
melt onto the floor in ecstasy when he finished eating and she brushed and 
groomed his coat. Rod continued to sleep.
     Once she tidied up the apartment and read a few chapters of the romance 
novel she'd purchased Friday evening, she went to look in on him because she 
thought she heard him get up.
     He still lay on her bed on his back, breathing evenly, the covers kicked to 
the end of mattress. Slipping out of her shoes, she moved into the room 
soundlessly to look at him. Despite the warmth in her face, she allowed herself 
to regard him from head to toe.
     This man was made of nothing more than bone, muscle and skin that looked as 
silky as her lingerie. 
     He shifted slightly, turning toward her, and she held her breath in 
consternation. What would he think of her if he discovered her staring at him 
while he slept?
     He relaxed again, and she couldn't help noticing his jeans were open enough 
to reveal a pair of leopard print underwear and a thin gold chain just above the 
elastic.
     A spiral of something she couldn't identify went through her abdomen, 
making her hot and a little breathless. He was beautiful. The kind of beautiful 
that created the desire to touch, to discover.
     With uncharacteristic impudence, Bethany wished she'd never left the bed 
that morning. Never been proper by leaving his arms. She wanted to be there 
again. She wanted to lay down next to him and touch him, kiss his soft mouth and 
trace the gold band he wore around his lean hips.
     Her own audacity shocked and shamed her, and she fled the room only to 
return a few minutes later with the same unquenchable need. After assuring 
herself he was completely unconscious and would never know, she sat at the edge 
of her bed gently. Following a minute of searching for and finding her courage, 
she lay down next to him. Her hair trailed over his forearm, causing him to 
shift to take her in his arms.
     Bethany's heart beat wildly in her chest and pushed against her throat. It 
surprised her when tears burned her eyes, but not half as much as the reason for 
them. She wanted him in a way that she'd never wanted a specific man before. She 
wanted to give herself to Rod, and for some reason, it didn't frighten her to 
admit it to herself.
     The feel of his lips against her forehead was all the coercion needed for 
her to lift her face to him. His eyes were still closed, yet he sought her 
mouth, blindly at first. Her lack of shyness brought them together.
     She hadn't been imagining things. He'd been up before; she could tell by 
the minty taste of mouthwash when his tongue touched hers.
     There was no fear in her as he rose above her, his eyes opening to lock 
with hers. Certain that one of them would come to their senses, she lifted her 
hands to his hair, something that suddenly seemed like a lifelong wish. With the 
groan of hunger he uttered, she closed her eyes and floated into passion unlike 
any she'd ever experienced before. 
     She continued to float, even when his mouth left hers and she opened her 
eyes to find her blouse open so he could caress her breasts. It was new, because 
she'd never willingly allowed a man to touch her there. Scott had tried to see 
what he could get away with, but that roughness had been nothing like this.
     "You're so pretty, sweetness. I wanna see you," Rod said softly. Even when 
her blush traveled past her bra, she didn't want to stop him. The sensations 
were too new. Too wonderful.
     "God, you make me feel special, Bethany."
     His words were as unexpected as the way he lay his head on her breasts, 
almost like a child seeking comfort.
     It hurt. For some reason, it hurt her to think--despite all the women he'd 
undoubtedly been with--not one had made him feel special. Why else would he say 
something like that? He had to know she was willing, yet he didn't rush to see 
just how much she would give, how much he could take. How could a man like him 
be lonely? How could he not know he was special, with or without her?
     She stroked his head, wanting to give him whatever he needed. This was what 
intimacy was. What being a lover truly meant. There were no games and no 
expectations. Even if she couldn't keep him interested in her, even if he broke 
her heart, she was certain now that she'd have no regrets.
         
          
     Since Bethany sent him home early Sunday night, Rod had more sleep than 
someone with the flu would need. He woke up at ten o'clock Monday morning with a 
headache worse than a hangover. For over an hour, knowing he should get to work, 
he instead lay there, petting Cam's coarse head, wondering if he'd lost his 
mind. 
     He could have had a beautiful, sweet, sexy woman at any time yesterday. 
Could have taken her to realms she'd never been before and given himself a 
little relief from the ache he felt near-constant lately. If all he was working 
toward was satisfaction and a little mitigation, he would have done it and done 
it with a smile on his face.
     But, man, he was in trouble this time. He never wanted to leave Bethany. He 
never wanted to do anything wrong with her. He'd rather die than hurt her. So he 
hadn't taken advantage of her willingness, hadn't let himself think past how 
good she made him feel just by being near.
     Regretting things--what a strange concept for him. But he'd found himself 
doing that yesterday, when he was with Bethany and when he'd left her. A huge 
part of him wished he'd never known any other woman except Bethany. Though he 
wasn't a hundred percent certain she wasn't a virgin (a twenty-four year old 
virgin was outside the boundaries of reality), he knew she'd never indulged in 
recreational sex or sex that was taken with the pre-acceptance that the 
relationship wasn't going anywhere else. What limited experience she had to have 
must have been followed by months or even years of an exclusive relationship 
she'd believed would end in marriage. For some reason, it hadn't. 
     Thinking about that kind of purity made Rod ashamed of his own hedonistic 
life. Bethany Briggs deserved a guy who hadn't sampled just about every 
beautiful babe he'd ever met. In his twenty-seven years, he'd never once 
considered his own "purity." Having a healthy sex drive was commendable, had 
been his way of thinking. But then all the women he'd been with, he assumed 
they'd been under as many sheets as he had. Bethany deserved a man who was at 
least as chaste as she was. And that pretty much eliminated him.
     Of course he hadn't gotten this far in life believing he had limits. 
Everything he'd ever wanted, he got through luck, perseverance, or just plain 
confidence. If he couldn't have Bethany by the ideal code, he'd take the next 
best road. Commitment. From now on, he was a one-woman man. 
     For once, that wouldn't be a mission impossible, he thought. Bethany was 
one of the few women he'd ever known who genuinely liked and could be satisfied 
by kissing and cuddling, the way he did and could. He might be able to hold out 
for a couple weeks. The hardest it would get would be if she started to enjoy 
her sexuality. There was nothing more potent to a man than that.
     Rod forced himself to get up, much to the dog's displeasure, get dressed 
and head to work.
     JoJo had called last night, something of a consolation to him because he'd 
been feeling sorry for himself, wondering why Bethany had asked him to leave. It 
was more than that her brother would be calling and she had to be home for the 
call. The phone conversation with Josie had ended with the usual "Go to hell" 
from her and his shame. He'd realized long ago the way to get her to express her 
emotions was to goad and provoke her. Anger was better than the mask his sister 
showed the world. The fighting between them had become habitual, but he still 
longed for the days when they'd been close enough to share everything.
     The kind of heartache his sister had faced, the heartache that gave her her 
unemotional mask. . .Rod had never even had a passing glimpse of anything like 
it in his life. When it was over, it was end-of-story for him and the future was 
always waiting. There was a chance of heartbreak now--with Bethany, because 
there was a lot more than assuaging loneliness involved.
     He was lonely right now. It surprised him to realize that every one of the 
women he'd invited into his sister's home in the past few months had been 
somehow involved with Rainbow Nights. The type of women waiting to be picked up 
because they had nothing else in life. Selfishly, he wished Bethany could quit 
her job and move in with him. But he couldn't ask her to do that. She seemed to 
love her little salon, and he doubted she was ready for sixteen plus hours a day 
with any man, let alone him. Maybe next week she'd be ready.
     As he drove to work, he wondered what Bethany was doing. Giving somebody a 
haircut? Crouching down to stock those shelves with hair care products? Was she 
wearing one of those pretty, sophisticated suits of hers?
     The need for her came on him so fiercely, Rod felt like he'd been punched 
in the stomach. Why couldn't he have met her five years ago? She would have been 
only nineteen, but it wouldn't have mattered. They could have had five kids by 
now and be celebrating their anniversary by making another baby.
     There was no way he was going to be able to wait patiently to give her any 
kind of "courtship." He'd already been waiting five years too long.
     When Rod got to work, he found Jon in the shop office, on the phone. He 
didn't bother to glance at Rod as he sifted through the untidy pile of paper and 
miscellaneous heaped on the desk's surface. By the time Rod got a soda from the 
ancient machine, he was off the phone, using both hands in his quest.
     "What are you looking for?"
     Blackie stepped into the office in time to hear Jon say, "That was JoJo. 
She said she sent us a handful of plane tickets to fly out to The Keys with her. 
Either of you remember seeing a letter from her?"
     Since Rod rarely came in early enough to retrieve the mail, he couldn't 
help. 
     Not long after they opened for business, all three of them had realized 
they needed a full-time secretary, receptionist, publicist and bookkeeper to 
perform the necessary business tasks. None of them qualified, but together 
they'd managed to keep most things straight. It wasn't that they couldn't afford 
to hire someone. They simply couldn't afford to hire more than one person. None 
of the people they'd interviewed could perform all the necessary duties. It was 
one or two skills, but not all. Instead of hiring someone and doing the rest 
themselves, they'd just decided to do it on their own. Someday maybe they'd find 
a jack-of-all-trades to work for them.
     And maybe hiring a maid wouldn't be a waste of time either, Rod thought. 
     Blackie stepped over to the desk, lifted a stack of junk, leafed through 
what was beneath it and miraculously came up with a big white envelope with 
JoJo's handwriting scrawled across the front. Jon took it. Inside were 
round-trip tickets to the Florida Keys, along with a note saying where Cameron 
should be boarded and that they should invite Jerry and Lori Gordon. The sixth 
ticket was for Morris, if they could "get his ass on the damn plane." The extra 
was for the girl Rod was currently shacked up with in her house.
     "So, you wanna go?" Jon asked them. "We can arrange things so none of the 
work orders are due during the week we're gone."
     A lot of the customers were also friends and would agree to any delay. 
They'd have plenty of time to finish up the ones who didn't agree.
     Blackie nodded, turning toward the soda machine, giving it a precisely 
aimed kick, then retrieving the can.
     "I'll ask Bethany if she wants to go, otherwise you can go without me." At 
the moment, "a week or so" without his baby sounded like an afterlife of burning 
in hell to Rod.
     Handing Blackie his ticket and two for Lori and Jerry, Jon teased, "Well, 
she lasted through the week. I guess you didn't "steal" anything from her."
     "I told you, there's no such thing as a virgin, but even if she is I was a 
perfect gentleman." Or as close as he'd get in this lifetime. "She's special."
     "Think I've heard that before," Blackie muttered.
     Of course Rod had said it before. He'd had a lot of women. Reason dictated 
he'd have to be crazy about one or two of them. For at least 24 hours, that was. 
He didn't even care if no one believed him that this time was different. The 
only person he had to prove himself to was Bethany.
     "She's gonna have my babies," he said, going for a little shock therapy.
     Swearing, Jon glanced at Blackie to see what he thought. The two of them 
burst out laughing. 
     Rod took a gulp of his soda, letting them have their fun at his expense.
     "Does she know about this?" Jon asked, serious now, tossing the remainder 
of the tickets in the top desk drawer.
     "She will soon enough."
     "Geez, Rod, the longest you've ever been with a girl is two weeks. I'd like 
to see this sweet thing have your baby in two weeks. You might get her pregnant, 
but what are you gonna do with it when you're bored?"
     "A baby's not an 'it.'"
     "And you're not grown up enough to have a kid of your own. Do you even know 
how to spell responsibility?"
     The fact that they were suddenly taking this so seriously told Rod 
something--they believed he was serious. Because of what he'd said or because 
they'd met Bethany and could believe she was different, he didn't know.
     "I know it's got a lot of i's."
     Blackie rolled his eyes while Jon said, "I know you're not known for your 
slow hand, but don't you think you're rushing things, man? You're probably 
scaring the hell out of that lady. She's used to suit-and-ties, and that type 
don't make their move until she's in the trap."
     Setting down the can he'd emptied, Rod shrugged. "Well, I'm fresh out of 
traps this time."
     Was he scaring her? he wondered as he went out to the shop to start work. 
Probably. But maybe she needed to have her life shook up a little. Maybe she 
needed a little leather. Just like he needed a little lace.
         
          
     She'd never see him again, Bethany thought when five o'clock rolled around 
and she waved goodnight to her employees. Rod's car was nowhere in sight. After 
looking up and down the street for almost five minutes under the guise of 
sweeping the sidewalk in front of her salon, she forced herself to go back in 
and turn the sign on the door to closed.
     Maybe she shouldn't have asked him to leave last night. She hadn't done it 
because she wanted him gone, not at all. It was just something she had to do. 
When Randy called, she had to be alone or he'd know something was happening. She 
couldn't lie to her brother, so her only other option had been to tell him the 
truth. 
     The truth wasn't something she was ready to admit to Rod. She was falling 
in love with him, against everyone's better judgment. Maybe her own too. Randy 
had so strongly disapproved, he'd been a single step away from forbidding her to 
see Rod. Part of him must have realized he couldn't do that. She couldn't stay 
away from Rod, if he wanted her, even if it meant disappointing the person 
dearest to her.
     Immaterial now, since Rod had seemingly forgotten all about her. Randy had 
warned her that a playboy like Rod Summers was interested only as long as he 
thought he could get something out of it. It was difficult for Bethany to 
believe that of the man she'd spent the weekend with, easier to believe she was 
so boring it wasn't possible to hold a man like Rod's interest.
     How much more embarrassing to realize she'd been willing to do anything for 
him yesterday, yet he hadn't made a move. Though she'd only known him a few 
days, she had the impression Rod was as poor a liar as she was. He had wanted 
her. Maybe that intimidated him. A man of his experience had to know she was a 
virgin.
     In her small office, she got her coat, feeling guilty for being so 
disappointed. What had she been hoping for? Marriage? As sincere and sweet as 
Rod seemed to her, he was not the marrying kind. She had no illusions about 
that. 
     Well, she didn't want to go through life being told she was making a 
mistake or fooling herself, did she?
     That morning, Olivia had come in with an old tabloid containing an 
interview with a supermodel Rod had met in Hawaii. This model had been very 
candid, saying she'd had no clue Rod was going to break it off with her. 
Especially after he'd spent the night before wining and dining her. "Romantic 
dinner, romantic gifts, romantic sex," the model claimed, making Bethany cringe 
with jealousy even if the relationship was history. And then the next day, out 
of the clear blue, Rod had told this gorgeous woman it was over.
     So many people were trying to show her Rod was a loser. It was the Scott 
Reeves thing all over again, everyone seemed to think except her. Rod was 
nothing like Scott. Not once had Scott made her feel special and ready. Though 
she was glad later that Rod hadn't taken advantage of her willingness (not 
because she would have regretted it, but because in her mind it was too soon), 
no one had ever made her feel the way Rod did. At least she'd always have that.
     As she slipped into her coat, she remembered with embarrassment the plans 
she'd been making all day. Before leaving yesterday, he'd asked her when she got 
off work. That was what gave her the freedom to dream about making him dinner. 
It surely came from playing with dolls until she was seventeen, but cooking a 
special meal for a special man was her ultimate fantasy. 
     The humiliation grew, and, shaking her head, she thought, No wonder 
everyone thinks I'm a fool. Foolish tears burned behind her eyes. Why did she 
have to be the type to cry easily? 
     Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she picked up a folder of business 
papers and left the office, trying to hold her emotions back. At least until she 
got home.
     The bell over the front door jingled as she turned the corner into the 
service area of the salon. It was Rod, with a bouquet of flowers dangling from 
his hand. Her relief was so immense the tears rushed forward uncontrollably. 
Fleeing to the bathroom instead of letting him see her like this would have been 
best, but now that he was here she couldn't move.
     He came to her smiling, starting to apologize for being late, until he saw 
her stupid tears. Nothing turned a man off faster than someone who clung to him 
desperately. And she fell apart at the least letdown.
     "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked in gentle surprise, using the hand with the 
flowers to pull her close and the other to lift her face.
     Bethany shook her head, feeling the temperature in her face become an 
inferno.
     "You didn't think I was coming, did you?"
     His guess was so accurate, she had to wonder if her heart was in her eyes. 
She looked away in mortification, trying to deny his precision.
     He drew her closer, turning her face back to his and ducking so they were 
facing each other. "You did, didn't you?"
     What could she say? His eyes were so soft and apologetic, she couldn't have 
even denied her love of him if he'd wanted to know.
     "Aw, sweetness." He urged her face nearer and kissed her cheeks. "I'm not 
gonna disappear that easy. I just didn't wanna show up empty-handed."
     She was silly. She was the silliest person in the world. Why wasn't he 
looking at her the way her behavior dictated he should? Why did he seem touched 
by her reaction?
     "You filled my apartment with flowers," she reminded in a whisper, the only 
allowance if she wanted to stop the tears.
     "You should have fresh flowers every day." He backed up only enough to 
offer her the bouquet.
     Transferring the folder under her arm, she took them, wishing she wasn't 
shy or silly or boring. Because it was no wonder women loved him. She'd never 
met a man as charming. "Thank you."
     With his hand cupping her chin, he raised her mouth and kissed her without 
deepening it. "I missed you today. Every second was like an hour."
     Confirming her own feelings was unnecessary. She'd already done that 
transparently. 
     "So'd you talk to your brother last night?" he asked, using both hands to 
dry her cheeks. Then he settled his arms loosely around her waist.
     "He called a few minutes after you'd gone."
     Rod nodded, smiling a little, and she wanted to hug him for asking 
something others would consider mundane. "Did you tell him about me?"
     Bethany hadn't expected this, but managed in a halting voice, "Yes."
     "So, what'd he think?" 
     His expression was so boyish, she didn't have the heart to tell him the 
truth. "He's. . .he doesn't really know you."
     When his happiness disappeared like the sun behind a cloud, she rushed to 
assure him what her brother thought was no reflection of what she thought. 
Moving her free hand to the outside of his biceps, she squeezed gently. "Randy's 
just protective. It doesn't mean anything. All he's heard are rumors."
     She didn't know him well enough to be able to interpret the emotion that 
tightened his mouth. "What about you? Do you pay attention to rumors?"
     It would be a complete lie for her to say that she wasn't a little 
intimidated by what she'd heard of him, that she wasn't worried the rumor of his 
fickleness might be true. The only thing she could say was the rumors hadn't 
succeeded in making her distance herself.
     "I pay attention, but it doesn't mean I always believe them," she said 
softly, wanting to avert her gaze but knowing he'd only force her to face him.
     "I won't lie to you, Bethany. I haven't been a saint, and I won't be one 
with you either. But I promise I'll never lie to you or make you promises I 
can't keep."
     Oh gosh, she hoped he wasn't going to tell her about his former 
girlfriends. At one time in the past or at some point in the future, things 
might be different. But for the present she didn't want to know anything about 
the others.
     He leaned down and kissed her quickly. "Let's get outta here. Are you 
hungry? Wanna go somewhere?"
     Letting go of her dream was difficult and since she might never have 
another chance, she admitted, "I wanted to make you dinner."
     He grinned as if she'd suggested taking him on a quick jaunt to Disney 
World. "Really? You'd do that?"
     "I'd love to. . .if you want me to."
     "OK, but let's go to my place. I want you to see it."
     "I'd have to go shopping--" she tried to get out of it, knowing she'd be 
uncomfortable there. 
     "No problem. There's a grocery store on the way."
     She nodded as he turned, putting his arm around her to lead her out, the 
way he had Nicole Martini the day they'd met.
     Cameron was in the back seat again and greeted her as warmly as he would 
someone he'd known for years. She petted him enthusiastically, not minding when 
he drooled on her jacket. How could she be mad when he was so sweet and so 
excited to see her?
     "You ever been to The Keys? Florida Keys?" Rod asked after he started the 
car.
     Turning in her seat to face him, she shook her head and reached for the 
belt buckle. 
     "You wanna go? Can you take a vacation from work?"
     Was he asking her to go away with him? Already? As astonished as she was, 
she was also tempted. And regretful. "Do you mean soon? I have to go to Madison 
tomorrow morning. I was going to tell you later."
     If she'd told him she was visiting an asylum, he couldn't have looked any 
more crestfallen. "Why do you need to go there?"
     Certainly not because she wanted to, but it was her last option. Something 
she'd been dreading and anticipating at the same time. "I'm meeting with an 
investor. I'm not sure how long I'll be there."
     "An investor? You mean for your salon?"
     Bethany nodded, unsure of what, if anything, he wanted to know about it. 
     "You're not in trouble, are you?"
     He obviously meant her business, and it shamed her to disclose the truth to 
someone as successful as she assumed him to be. "Not immediate. But I'm not sure 
I can stay open after this year if I don't get an investor."
     She'd met him at a trade show that summer, and the only thing she'd liked 
about the idea of acquiring an investor was that he was independent. If nothing 
had changed, at least he wouldn't turn her salon into a chain. All the joy of 
owning her own business would disappear if that happened.
     "I'm sure I'll be back in a few days." She tried to smile because he took 
it as seriously as she did.
     "Can I go with you?"
     He wasn't joking. That was instantly clear. What was she supposed to do 
with this man? He was unlike anyone she'd ever met. Everything was on the 
surface with him. He didn't play games or heed decorum.
     "It's business. I don't think you would find it very interesting."
     "I don't care, as long as you're there."
     He was so adorable, she almost burst into tears again. Glancing at her 
after he pulled into a parking space at the grocery store, he guessed, "No?"
     It was torture to, but she had to deny him.
     "I guess I'll have to go to The Keys with the guys then."
     The lump in her throat and the knot in her stomach told her her time was 
running out.
         
          
     It was a house that could be considered beautiful, but nothing except the 
swimming pool spoke of extreme wealth. The inside had very little by way of 
color. All the furniture was white, the carpet was white, the curtains. . . 
Bethany's mind whirled with the decorating mistakes that could be so easily 
corrected.
     "You live here by yourself?" she asked.
     "No. My sister lives here about two weeks a year."
     Commenting on the strangeness of him living with his sister would be 
hypocritical, so she simply nodded and followed him to the kitchen.
     The room was ultra modern, seeming to have all the conveniences. Rod set 
down the two bags of groceries. "I'm gonna go call Jon to tell him to count me 
in for The Keys. Go ahead and use whatever you need."
     When he left the room, she unpacked the bags, then glanced timidly through 
the cupboards to see what kind of dishes he had. The few supplies shocked her. 
How could he survive without the basics? The only plates were made of paper. The 
glasses were Styrofoam. Surprisingly, the silverware wasn't plastic. 
     So much for her special dinner.
     In a bottom cupboard, she found a large saucepan that looked brand new, 
three pizza pans, and an aluminum, rectangular pan. She'd never made lasagna in 
aluminum before, but she had no choice.
     When Rod came back in the kitchen, she wanted to ask him how he fed himself 
in such a sparse kitchen, but she lost the ability for words when he came up in 
back of her while she opened the box of lasagna noodles.
     "Find everything you need?" he asked pressing his bare chest to her back. 
Her stomach did a reckless somersault as his fingers spread across her abdomen.
     She must have nodded, though she knew nothing for sure except that Sunday 
must have been a dream. He couldn't have touched her and made her feel motherly. 
Not when this less intimate touch almost sent her to the roof like a startled 
cat.
     "You smell good." He adjusted her hair off her shoulder and brushed his 
mouth to the back of her neck. 
     His scent was potent to her too. It was a combination of everything she 
associated with wild men--leather, musk and nature.
     Bethany held the box of noodles with a feeble grip. Yes, yesterday had all 
been a dream. She was a virgin, with each and every one of the connotations of 
the word. She wasn't ready for anything more than kissing and hand-holding. What 
had ever made her believe she could give herself to a man she hardly knew, even 
one that she was falling in love with?
     "Um. . .are these all the dishes you have?" she choked out.
     He lifted his head. "Oh. No. Nobody cooks or wants to do dishes around 
here, so almost everything I bought when I moved in is still in boxes in the 
basement. Want me to go get them?"
     Feeling guilty because she was afraid of her own conflicting emotions, she 
nodded. He gave her a hug before going out of the room again.
     Maybe the rumors about him and all the warnings she'd received were getting 
to her. Or maybe she was just being realistic finally. If he went to The Keys, 
even if he stayed in Stevens Point, he wouldn't wait for her to get back. Rod 
was a healthy, red-blooded man with needs. Needs she couldn't fulfill, needs 
he'd have no trouble satisfying with anyone he wanted.
     The three or four days she might be gone would be asking too much of him to 
wait. Three or four days of together or apart wouldn't be enough for her to 
surrender herself anyway. Sooner or later, he'd feel tortured by staying with 
her. Anyway, he was probably as sweet and charming with all women as he was with 
her. It had nothing to do with her. As Nicole Martini had said, Bethany was a 
novelty for him.
     She'd made herself thoroughly miserable now. It was an effort to start the 
meal rather than run home to cry her eyes out like a baby.
     Rod made three trips to bring all the dishes up from the basement. She 
found a glass dish for baking the lasagna, nice plates, and a Dutch oven. From 
the bar in the living room, he brought delicate wine glasses, completing her 
fantasy.
     He set the table while she cooked the noodles and sauce. After that, he 
watched her arrange the layers, not speaking, and her discomfort was more 
intense than ever. What was he thinking? He'd told her on Saturday none of his 
"babies" had ever cooked for him. Was that because domestic women turned him 
off?
     "It'll be twenty to thirty minutes," she said after she slid the glass dish 
into the oven.
     "Can't wait."
     Trying to smile, she immediately started to clean things up. Rod stood, 
coming around the table. "Wanna tour of the house?"
     Bethany was relieved, and she nodded. Cameron followed them as Rod showed 
her around, mentioned that he planned to turn one of the spare bedrooms into an 
office for his sister's birthday. The extravagance made Bethany cringe at the 
inexpensive hardcover book of a favorite author she'd gotten for her brother's 
last birthday.
     "This wing is JoJo's," Rod said when they climbed to the second floor of 
the house and he pointed to the left side. "She doesn't like anybody 
trespassing, whether she's home or not."
     A little comforted about that--she didn't want to see his sister's private 
boudoir--she followed him into the other wing. The first bedroom had a bed and 
closet, apparently something of guest accommodations. The second had nothing 
except the closet and a lot of empty space just waiting to be filled. Rod 
introduced the last room at the end of the hall as his own.
     Though it was fairly obvious the room was his, with the car magazines and 
clothes on the floor or hung over chairs, it was also clear that a woman had 
been in it recently. One of the closets was filled with a woman's clothes, and 
the dresser had jewelry and perfume strewn all over it. This had been the room, 
the bed he'd shared with Nicole Martini and most likely many other ships passing 
in the night.
     The way Nicole left, or been forced to leave, horrified Bethany. She'd left 
without any of her things, as though she believed they didn't matter if it meant 
getting out. Had Rod cared nothing for her at that point in the. . .affair? 
     It was difficult for Bethany to accept that a woman wouldn't care about 
Rod, if she'd been intimate with him. Apparently the way Rod put his arm around 
Nicole to lead her out of Bethany's salon had been an act of mercy. Or maybe it 
really didn't bother him to like two women at the same time. 
     Had he slept with Nicole after that, before he'd shown up at Bethany's 
apartment bearing a waterfall of flowers?
     Suddenly she didn't feel well. She'd almost given herself to this man the 
previous day, not to mention that she was falling in love with him. He was a 
carbon copy of Scott Reeves, only with a more effective approach. Wishing that 
his private life wasn't so public, she averted her face when they left his room 
to continue the tour.
     After that, she made an excuse about checking on dinner. He followed her 
this time and asked her when her brother would be visiting.
     Locating a pair of oven mitts, she murmured, "I'm not sure. He's not sure. 
But soon." Ducking to look into the oven, she concluded five more minutes. 
"Why?"
     "So I can meet him. Once he meets me, maybe he'll like me. Then you won't 
feel conflicted, being my baby."
     Bethany couldn't look at him. Straightening, her back still to him, she 
removed the mitts. It was things such as he'd said that created one side of her 
conflict. How could the rumors and gossip and speculation paint him as a 
two-faced, capricious lady-killer when he said such sweet things? When he 
appeared so honest-to-a-fault? Why else would he want to meet her brother? In 
the short amount of time she surmised he spent with a woman, he couldn't make 
time to meet her family. Not unless he was trying to make enemies.
     Rod just didn't strike her that way. He seemed to want everyone to love 
him; breaking hearts was purely an accident based on misunderstood intentions. 
     The only problem this time was he hadn't made any ground rules with her. 
She had no idea what, if anything, she should expect of him and what he 
considered off-limits. And she certainly didn't have the nerve to ask him.
     He poured them each a glass of wine from the bottle he'd taken from the 
refrigerator when she turned toward him. The first thought that came to her mind 
as she sipped the smooth blend was of where it had come from. Had Rod or Nicole 
bought it and drank a single glass together after. . .?
     The click that came from Rod setting the glass down on the countertop 
startled her, and her face blazed as she glanced at him instinctively. He moved 
over to her, took the glass to set it down, and wrapped a hand around the curve 
of her neck. "What's wrong, sweetness? You look like you lost your best friend."
     "I'm fine," she insisted, clasping her hands together in front of her. She 
enjoyed his embrace too much, and that frightened her. He'd put her under his 
spell from the minute she met him. She couldn't trust herself.
     Snaking his hand around to cup her chin, he held her to receive a light 
kiss that threatened to make her, inadvertently, cry again.
     "I bought you something," he said, obviously trying to make her smile.
     Whether he meant it to or not, his announcement threw her completely 
off-balance. "What? What?"
     Going to his leather jacket draped over one of the chairs, he extracted a 
long velvet box. Bethany knew immediately she didn't want to have anything to do 
with that box, didn't even want to see what was in it. She didn't want to be one 
of the temporary women he wined and dined for a week, then sent away with 
consolation prizes.
     When she shook her head, refusing to take it at his offering, he opened the 
box. Inside was a thin bracelet studded with sapphires. It had to be more 
expensive than her entire jewelry collection.
     "You like it?" he asked eagerly, setting the box on the table to lift the 
bracelet out.
     "It's beautiful, but it can't take it, Rod. It's too soon."
     He took her arm. "Too soon for a bracelet? I didn't know there was an 
etiquette." He fastened the delicate bracelet around her wrist, and she was 
unable to forbid him. "It's perfect for you. It matches your eyes."
     Looking so proud and happy, he made Bethany lose her argument.
     "Just wear it while you're gone, OK? To remind you of me. You don't have to 
keep it if you don't wanna after that."
     He wanted her to remember him while she was gone. Not knowing if it was 
good or bad, she nodded though she knew she couldn't keep it even that long. She 
wanted to cry. He kissed her as if he was the one who had been given the gift.
     To hold back the tears, she concentrated on serving dinner. While they ate, 
she asked when he'd found time to get the bracelet. His answer shamed her, 
because she'd asked to find out if Nicole Martini had just left her "consolation 
prize" behind.
     What was wrong with her? Was she just a fool, or was everything everyone 
said about him true? Every minute she spent with him convinced her they were all 
wrong. While she had no trouble believing he was a womanizer, she couldn't get 
herself to accept that he used women for his own selfish purposes. Rod wasn't 
selfish in any sense of the word. Maybe he was just lonely.
     Regardless, she didn't want to spend what could be her last hours with him 
fluctuating between fear of what she'd heard of him and dismissing it in the 
face of reality.
     They cleaned up together, putting the dishes in the dishwasher, and Rod 
repeatedly told her that her cooking was better than any of the restaurants he'd 
been to. The lasagna had been excellent, so she knew he wasn't saying it just to 
be nice.
     She poured them each a mug of the coffee she'd started earlier, then they 
went into the living room. Rod turned on the stereo, which blasted out his 
musical preference, then turned it to one of the softer channels.
     "Thanks for making me dinner," he said again, when he sat as close as he 
could to her on the sofa and put his arm around her.
     "I wanted to." Her cheek swept his bare shoulder when she turned to smile 
at him. 
     "You never wear a shirt." The observation was out of her mouth before she 
could consider the riskiness of it. The only thing on his chest was a thin gold 
chain with a winged angel pendant hanging from it.
     "Shirts are too confining. I can handle vests and jackets, just barely. 
Good thing I've got a chest worth flaunting." He grinned, which could have meant 
he was joking.
     Bethany's gaze lowered to his chest, confirming instantly that he 
positively had a chest worth flaunting. He was muscular without being bulky. His 
flesh was smooth and dark. It invited touching, and her fingertips wanted to do 
just that.
     It took effort for Bethany to lift her eyes to his. His face was as serious 
now as, she realized, hers must be following his "joke." 
     Wishing she could get inside his head to confirm all her hopes or 
suspicions, she set down her mug so she wouldn't drop it in her lap. Rod 
imitated her, and when he returned his back to the couch, he covered her cheek 
with his hand. "I don't want you to leave me tomorrow, Bethany. I want you."
     That he could be so forthright thrilled her as much as it frightened her, 
because she wanted to believe him more than anything else.
     "I'm coming back in a couple days," she said in a voice barely above a 
whisper. She couldn't lower her eyes from the intensity of his, not even when 
his thumb brushed over her lips.
     "A couple days might-as-well be forever if I can't look at you or touch you 
during them."
     "I could call you or you could call me, when I find out where I'll be 
staying." Her head was starting to feel the way it did when she infrequently 
drank more than a glass of wine. His smell, his beautiful eyes, his words and 
touch and mouth whirled around her, mesmerizing her. She couldn't resist him. It 
was why Sunday had happened, why she'd cried when he showed up after all, why 
she'd let him put the bracelet on her.
     He seemed to know exactly what she wanted, even when she feared admitting 
it to herself. And always, always he was gentle and undemanding. Rod was 
everything she'd ever wanted in a man, if it wasn't for all the vultures 
circling him, waiting to discredit him.
     Slipping his fingers into her hair, he said softly, "I really like you, 
Bethany. Not just cuz you're so pretty and I wanted to make love to you the 
minute I saw you."
     The shock made her cringe away from him, but he pulled her into a hug, 
chuckling under his breath. "You're so sweet. I love it when you blush."
     "Novelty" went through her head, but she ignored it. She was pressed 
against his bare chest with her cheek and one of her hands. Nothing else seemed 
to matter in light of how good his skin felt to her virgin hands. In her 
lifetime, she'd shaken a man's hand, hugged her brother, and been kissed on the 
cheek and mouth. Touching a man's chest was new and exciting, and she wanted to 
do more than lay against him idly.
     Concentrating all her courage on the hand resting against his rib cage, she 
got herself to move it. She kept her palm flat, her fingers splayed as she 
explored the textures and muscles of his stomach. He was warm and hard, and she 
felt him twitch as she stroked him with greater courage. The courage came from 
the knowledge that he enjoyed it and wanted more, the way she did. 
     Her hand followed the hard lines of muscles from stomach to side and 
higher. Soft, lingering touches seemed to make his breathing and heartbeat 
quicken, as did hers.
     "God, Bethany," he muttered before lifting her head for a kiss that rocked 
her in its need. What had she created? She didn't know, but she was swept away 
by the intimacy his mouth demanded of hers. Her total response was willingness. 
Outside of that, she was too spellbound to participate. 
     Why did everything feel so good and right with him? If another man had put 
his tongue in her mouth, she would have been revolted, yet Rod's made her ache 
in ways she'd never even fantasized about. The fantasies weren't about 
imaginings or wishes. They were subconscious desires inside of every part of 
her. 
     "I wanna touch you, Bethany. I wanna see you," he muttered against her 
mouth, so hoarsely she couldn't help remembering Scott's voice when he tried to 
get more than she was willing to give.
     His urgency sent her panicking. She turned away from him, unsure if she 
could say anything and what she would say anyway. Rod had to know she was a 
virgin, and was therefore aware she wasn't ready for the kind of intimacy he 
was.
     He wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind. "I'm sorry. I can 
wait. You just make me want. . ."
     Urging her to face him, he pulled her against him as he had before. 
"Anyway, I've got the feeling cuddling with you is as good as making love with 
you."
     Bethany closed her eyes tightly. He'd said the words! He'd said "I can 
wait", and she wanted to believe that as much as she wanted to believe he was 
the man for her, despite the vultures that had begun circling her too.

         
     Rod got up early--no hardship since he hadn't been able to sleep 
anyway--and took Bethany to the bus station. 
     Although he'd wanted to spend the night in her bed, he now realized what he 
was dealing with here--the difference. Bethany Briggs would be the difference in 
his life, and some of the changes would be rough. As far as he was concerned, 
he'd go to hell and back for her as long as the outcome was the same. She had to 
be his baby, his woman, his one and only for the rest of their lives. And that 
was all she wrote.
     He watched her until the bus pulled out, and when he got back in his car he 
found the bracelet he'd given her last night on the passenger seat. Although her 
reasons for doing it worried him, he couldn't help smiling. Smiling, because it 
was exactly what he'd expected her to do. She hadn't been ready for any words of 
commitment, and so he hadn't said any. But, being the woman she was, she 
wouldn't take anything else from him either, until she was good and ready. And 
until he'd proved himself.
     God, he'd miss her. Even if it turned out to be only a day or two. Even 
though he'd worked out a plan so he could call her. Once she got to her hotel, 
she would call his lawyer, who would call Rod with the phone number. Travis had 
agreed to it after some of Rod's famous coaxing. Since he wasn't sure where he'd 
be today, he hadn't wanted to give her a list of phone numbers to go through, so 
this had seemed the easiest answer.
     She'd turned his whole life upside down, that was for sure. He didn't sleep 
much, he only ate when she cooked for him or went out with him, and he was half 
insane wanting to make love to a woman he had to be a perfect gentleman with or 
else. But, hey, that was all right. Anything, as long as she let him into her 
life.
     That was the difference, he realized. For the first time in his life, he 
didn't have control of the relationship. It wouldn't be his choice to end it. 
     The wild man had been tamed. 



CHAPTER FIVE
 
     It wasn't until much later, when she was escorted by a employee of the 
investor to the hotel, that Bethany realized she'd made promises she couldn't 
keep. Agreeing to Rod's triangle of connection had been instinctive. If it was 
the only link she had to him, she'd call his lawyer so he could give Rod her 
hotel phone number.
     The bus ride had put too many things into sharp perspective. While Rod had 
said many things she'd wanted to hear, he hadn't made the commitment she wanted 
most from him. And that meant he was free to find someone else, for the few days 
she was gone or permanently. Her pride couldn't allow her to accept either 
situation. 
     Maybe she'd known it was over before, when she left the bracelet in his 
car. She didn't want consolation prizes. She wanted his love exclusively. It was 
something she'd been told, and acknowledged deep down inside of herself, she 
couldn't have. Yet she had fallen in love with him, to regret only that it 
couldn't last.
     Too soon to react or common sense, Bethany told herself to let it go as 
easily as it'd come. She wouldn't call Rod's lawyer, she wouldn't fall apart. 
Life would go back to simply existing day to day. Besides, what was most 
important, what would be the greater loss was her salon.
     On the bus, she'd gone over the financial records for the past year and one 
thing stood out: she couldn't go on the way she'd been. Beauty by Bethany hadn't 
made any money for more months than she wanted to admit to herself. Ever since 
the chain beauty salon had opened a few blocks from her own. All the profits she 
made went right back into the business. What little savings she had from her 
successful first year of the salon went into paying household bills, so she 
wouldn't have to rely on her brother to support her. She'd thought it'd make 
things better when Olivia said she only wanted to work a few days a week, but 
even one full-time employee and one part-time stretched Bethany's means for the 
handful of customers that came in in a day.
     If she lost her salon, she didn't know what she'd do with herself. After 
having owned her own business, being an employee in another salon would be like 
a step backward.
     Her mind kept telling her she should be thrilled someone wanted to invest 
in her little salon, but the knot in the pit of her stomach prevented that. She 
was backed into a corner. If he simply wanted to make an investment without 
getting involved in the day-to-day business, she could accept it as a last 
resort.
     Something told her it wouldn't be that simple. She knew someone in Madison, 
a lady she'd met at a trade show, whose salon had barely been scraping by. She'd 
gotten an investor interested too, as her last chance to keep her livelihood. 
The investor ended up turning the salon into a chain, and Bethany's acquaintance 
lost all power. She'd become an on-site supervisor who took orders from the 
chain's corporate office.
     It was the last thing Bethany wanted, yet with her back to the wall, what 
choice did she have other than submission?
     The investor's office was right across the street, and she walked over for 
her 2:30 appointment. The meeting was brief and obscure. After telling her 
they'd get more in-depth at dinner, he dismissed her.
     Bethany walked back to her hotel room, wishing she could talk to someone. 
Her brother wasn't the first person that came to her mind, and it bothered her 
that she had become dependent on Rod in only six short days.
     Taking the card he had given her with his lawyer's phone number on it out 
of her purse, she sat on the bed and reached for the receiver. 
     Rod had said he was going to The Keys while she was away. Though Bethany 
had never been to The Keys personally, she imagined it had to be one of those 
tropical islands with beautiful, tanned native women who used their long hair in 
place of a bra.
     No, he'd have no trouble replacing her with someone who had no inhibitions 
or expectations. Rod wasn't looking for forever the way she was. 
     She had no one to blame except herself. Her heart had played games with her 
from the start.
         
          
     "I'm gonna call Travis again." Rod reached for the phone that was within 
two inches of him at all time.
     Jon didn't even glance up from the brochures of The Keys he was leafing 
through when he said, "You just called him a half hour ago."
     Blackie and Lori were on the opposite side of the living room in Jon and 
Blackie's apartment over the shop. Lori grinned at Rod like he was acting like a 
clown.
     He didn't care. Nothing mattered except that it was after nine o'clock in 
the evening, and Travis still hadn't called with Bethany's hotel number. Which 
meant she hadn't called to give it to his lawyer. Which meant something had 
happened to her, or she just didn't want to talk to him. Which meant he had no 
idea where she was, so he couldn't change her mind. Which--finally--meant he was 
going out of his mind.
     Picking up the receiver, he pressed the redial button for Travis' home. 
Bethany had both his office and home numbers, so Rod knew that had nothing to do 
with it. Even if she'd lost the card, Information could give her either number.
     As he waited for Travis to pick up, he wondered if he'd read her completely 
wrong. Maybe she was shyer than he'd thought, and she hadn't had the nerve to 
tell him she didn't like him. That didn't explain why she'd cried, thinking he 
wasn't coming yesterday. Or why she'd let him kiss her. Her response couldn't be 
faked. He wasn't too proud to admit that he'd had women fake it with him before. 
Sex wasn't all technique. Some men and women just didn't click sexually. No 
matter how skilled, there had to be some chemistry, otherwise it was just 
mechanical.
     Bethany enjoyed his kisses and caresses more than any other woman he'd ever 
been with. So why didn't she want to talk to him now?
     "If it's you again, Rod. . ." Travis picked up the phone saying.
     "She hasn't called?"
     "How many times do I have to tell you, I'll call you when she calls me? If 
you're so anxious, why don't you call every hotel in Madison and ask if she's 
staying there?"
     Travis was normally hard to ruffle; everything was taken in stride with 
him. At the moment, he was sounding slightly annoyed, with reason. Rod had 
called him at least thirty times today.
     "There must be a dozen hotels in Madison. Are you crazy, man?"
     "If you'd called them instead of me, you'd be half done by now."
     "Very funny," Rod smirked, watching Lori lean back against Blackie. At 
least she wasn't grinning at him anymore. "Did you find anything out about what 
I asked you this morning?"
     "Yes. The salon is in the red, though it had a promising first year. She 
applied for a building permit, but things must have caved in. It expires the 
first of next year." Pausing only a second, Travis added, "Now can we stick to 
the agreement? I'll call you if she calls?"
     Rod agreed, knowing he'd never have the patience to keep that promise.
     The day had started out pretty well, giving him no clue it would go bad. 
He'd been looking forward to the trip with his friends, seeing his sister. He 
could talk to Bethany a few times a day and not have to wait around doing 
nothing when he couldn't talk to her.
     Well, there was no way he was going now. If she didn't call, he'd haunt her 
doorstep, waiting for her to return and explain why he was in love with a woman 
who wouldn't talk to him.
         
     
     Bethany arrived home Thursday night, exhausted and dejected. Everything 
she'd feared had come to pass, and now all she wanted was for someone to hold 
and comfort her by saying all hope was not lost. 
     Randy was still away, and any chance she might have had with Rod was lost. 
Surely her heavy heart made her believe it wouldn't matter to her what he'd done 
in The Keys, as long as he came back to her.
     She unlocked her door, almost expecting Rod's dog to greet her. Tears 
filled her eyes when she thought of never seeing Cameron again. Well, what else 
was new? She'd spent most of the three days she was away crying her eyes out. 
     Having dinner with the woman she met at the trade show in Madison was 
supposed to be a break from her misery. Instead, she'd ended up talking about 
Rod, mentioning him by name because she didn't think it would matter. Even now 
she wished she hadn't talked about any of it. She certainly didn't know the 
woman well enough. But misery needed company, and company was an outlet. Her 
shock came when the woman claimed to know Rod, describing him down to a tattoo 
and the necklace around his hips. She said she'd spent a single night with him 
years ago. While he was "a helluva lover, no complaints there", she'd told 
Bethany with shocking candor, he'd had all the exits scoped out from the 
beginning.
     What were the odds of it? Bethany couldn't believe the man every beautiful 
woman she ran into lately seemed to know was the same man she had spent almost a 
week with. While none of his former girlfriends could hate him, none of them 
remembered him fondly either. 
     In Madison, Bethany had made excuses for him. Maybe the women she kept 
getting warnings from had fallen in love with him, and that was the reason for 
their slandering. Maybe they'd gone into the affair with no expectations, but 
then accidentally fell in love with him. Then it wouldn't be Rod's fault. He'd 
been up-front with his intentions from the start.
     Or maybe he had changed his playboy ways. . .because of her.
     An unusual disgust for herself rose to the surface, and she tossed down her 
garment bag and suitcase, then kicked off her shoes the way a naughty child 
would. As she walked. . .stalked was more like it. . .through the living room to 
her bedroom, she threw her coat in an untidy heap on the sofa.
     It was only seven o'clock, but she wanted to go to bed and sleep off her 
bad mood. Tomorrow she could consider the investor's offer of turning her into 
the mere manager of a chain beauty salon. For tonight, all she wanted to do was 
remember the best week of her life.
     Putting on one of her silk nightgowns, she got under the covers with a sigh 
that seemed to come from the deepest, darkest region of her soul. Never in her 
life had she felt so lonely and empty.
     Before Rod Summers, she'd genuinely liked her life, although she never 
stopped hoping she'd meet the man of her dreams. Well, she'd met him, only to 
let him slip through her fingers like sand. Oh, what she would do to turn back 
time! She would have called Rod's lawyer the minute she got to her hotel room 
and. . .
     There was a banging sound from the front room, and she froze in the process 
of reaching for the lamp.
     It couldn't be! Rod was in The Keys, with the topless native girls. God, 
please, let it be, she prayed, throwing the covers back without another thought. 

     By the time she yanked open the door, she was crying tears of frustration. 
The little girl inside of her was being purged. Bethany Briggs was about to 
become a woman.

         
     He was not going to be sympathetic.
     Rod was mad as hell, and it'd taken him a full five minutes to get himself 
under control after he saw Bethany get out of a cab in front of her apartment 
building.
     Now that he'd seen for himself she was physically perfect, the only other 
explanation for her not calling was she wanted him out of her life.
     He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted, especially something he 
wanted this bad. So, if she wanted out, she'd have to tell him why, to his face. 
He sure as hell wouldn't make it easy for her to do.
     Sprinting up the stairs, he felt something that didn't coincide with his 
mood. She was home, she was within reach, and he was relieved. The loneliness 
had disappeared. God, his eyes wanted to see her again, his arms ached to hold 
her, his hands need to touch her tiny, sweet body.
     How could he ever be mad at her? One look at her, and his heart would melt 
while his body went up in flames. The only way he could do it was to fake anger 
as long as it took to get her to change her mind and want him too.
     He walked down the hall on her floor, trying to work up the determination 
to act mad.
     Pounding on her door, he waited less than a minute before he went at it 
again. There, that was pretty convincing, he thought. He put his hands on both 
sides of the door frame to get the proper stance of indignation.
     On the other side of the door, he heard the shuffling of bare feet on wood 
and could barely hold onto the attitude he was trying to portray. So close. . . 
She was so close.
     The door flew open, and there she was. His baby, dressed in a soft blue 
wisp of silk and lace that matched the color of her beautiful eyes. Eyes that 
were overflowing with tears. She'd known exactly who'd come calling, that much 
was tacitly clear.
     He moved inside, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold anything against her. 
When he closed the door behind him, she came into his arms with uncharacteristic 
boldness. He could no more be mean than he could be unaffected by her nearly 
naked body.
     "Why didn't you call?"
     She clung to him tightly, unashamed of her closeness or her unrestrained 
emotions. "I didn't think you would wait for me."
     "Wouldn't wait? Sweetness, I've been sitting by the phone day and night 
since you left. My lawyer's got a dartboard with my picture on it now."
     Though he smiled to urge her to do the same, she didn't. "I thought it was 
over."
     "I'll let you know when it's over between us," Rod assured her, pulling her 
hips tighter against him. "Don't expect to hear those words for at least fifty 
years or never."
     Her glistening eyes didn't waver from his face even once, and then she 
cinched her arms tighter around his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. 
     The surprise Rod felt was buried in the flare of his desires. He watched 
her eyes close as if the rest of the world had disappeared for her. God, to 
think he'd spent three torturing days believing the worst. He'd have to make 
sure she got the best of him from now on, so she wouldn't have any more doubts 
about his intentions.
     The kiss was making him crazy. The slightest move of her body against his 
pushed him closer to the edge.
     Bethany didn't seem to notice him lifting her into his arms, or maybe it 
was what she wanted too. Instead of coming to her senses when he had to break 
the kiss to navigate the way to her bedroom, she moved her mouth to his neck. 
     How many millions of times had a woman kissed him, bit him, licked him 
there? It'd never been a "G-spot" for him before. The feel of Bethany's 
incredibly soft, sweet lips on his body turned his legs to water.
     He went down on the bed cross-wise with her beneath him after pushing his 
leather jacket off, and his self-control, if he'd ever had any coming here 
tonight, was at an all-time low. 
     Immersing himself in the taste of her mouth, he swept his hands down her 
body until he could raise the gown. When her bare legs were free, he took hold 
of her knees, easing them apart until he rested in the notch his body would soon 
fill.
     Bethany looked up at him, her face astonishingly calm for the crying she'd 
been doing only minutes before. "There can't be anyone else," she said softly, 
and though he wasn't sure he understood her, he murmured, "I know. I missed you. 
I wanna make you mine, sweetness."
     "I already am."
     Hearing those words, the ones he'd thought she might never utter, calmed 
his urgency for sexual gratification. He needed the emotional more.
     Rolling on his side, he brought her into his arms again. As her hands 
pressed flat against his bare chest, he said, "I wanna stay here tonight. Make 
love to you and sleep with you and wake up with you in my arms."
     The honesty brought the shyness back to her, and she lowered her gaze. She 
wanted the same, but he knew she couldn't say it. The words didn't matter 
anyway, as much as that she feel them.
     "Did I ever tell you my sister had a baby?" he asked, because it was the 
kind of sharing he couldn't do with other women.
     Bethany looked up at him in mild surprise. "Your sister did? No. I didn't 
know. What happened to the baby?"
     "She gave Jayme up for adoption." Lowering one of the spaghetti straps on 
her nightgown, he kissed her shoulder gently. "You should've seen her. She was 
the cutest baby in the world. She had these huge eyes and all these dimples. I 
wanted my own baby when I saw her." Kissing the hollow center of her collarbone, 
he asked, "How many babies do you wanna have?"
     Her smile was so soft, he knew nothing could have pleased her more. "At 
least one boy and one girl."
     "Yeah. That sounds right to me too." Even though Bethany was so petite, he 
could picture her pregnant with his babies. She'd have a round little belly with 
her slim legs and small breasts. She'd be radiant. 
     He knew Bethany didn't have a lot of nieces or nephews, or even young 
cousins, because she'd told him her only family was her brother. His mother had 
quite a few kids, each with a different man. Although he and Josie only shared 
the same mother, to Rod they were 100% flesh and blood. Josie was the only blood 
relative he cared to acknowledge. She, Jon, Blackie, Morris, Jerry and Lori were 
his family. There was no bitterness toward the others or his biological mother. 
None even for the father he couldn't remember because he'd left before Rod was 
old enough to have memories. Life had just worked out the way it had, end of 
story. He saw his mother and the rest of her family about once every few years, 
since it was around that time his mother started feeling guilty. Josie never saw 
any of them anymore. As far as he knew, she never looked back.
     "What made you want kids?" he asked Bethany.
     "I've always wanted babies. The only ones I know are the children who come 
in for haircuts. I always take the children." 
     The look in Bethany's eyes was the depth of maternal instinct that he'd 
seen in his sister after she'd had Jayme. 
     "Their hair is so fine, and they have this smell. . .a baby smell, until 
they're about five years old. I could look at them and smell them forever."
     Those feelings were familiar to him too. He remembered holding Jayme that 
first and last time, her tiny body never quite still, and watching her face 
while she slept. She'd smelled like shampoo, sweet milk. . .and baby. After 
holding Jayme, he'd never understood how JoJo could give her up.
     "I played with dolls until I was seventeen. I wanted them to become real. . 
.so I could take care of them for real." 
     Bethany lowered her gaze as if she realized most people would find her 
confession odd. Rod smiled, hugging her closer. "You're adorable." Moving his 
mouth to her shoulder again, he murmured against her fragrant skin, "So 
special."
     She actually shivered, letting out a shaky sigh he loved for its 
unpretentiousness. Kissing down her throat, he smiled when she instinctively 
lifted her hands to cradle his head. It could have been an attempt to stop him, 
if she hadn't threaded her fingers into his hair gently, making this soft sound 
that resembled a whimper.
     "You taste like jasmine," he whispered.
     "I'm sorry. It's my bath oil." Her tone was suddenly conscientious.
     Lifting his head, he assured her he loved the way she tasted before he 
kissed her lips again. It amazed him how spellbound she became in response to a 
kiss, and he wanted to give her the same. For the first time, maybe ever, he 
would not seduce, he would share. But he wasn't going to go into it with a 
single doubt she wanted the same things he did. If he did, she would regret it, 
sooner or later.
     He kissed her, slowing the pace and savoring the fullness of her lips. She 
had a perfect shape, one that worked best with his mouth. Even when he backed 
away, he wanted to feel it and touched her bottom lip with his thumb. Her 
passion was undeniable. When had a woman ever looked this satisfied under him 
before the lovemaking?
     "I don't wanna do anything you're not ready for, sweetness. I need to know 
if you wanna make love with me."
     His directness embarrassed her to the extreme, he could tell. Pulling 
herself against him to hide her face, she whispered so low he barely heard her, 
"Yes."
     "Are you sure, Bethany? I can wait. Not for long, but I can wait."
     She shook her head against him, giving him a go-ahead he would never 
forget. Her innocence excited him more than any blatant move ever could. God, he 
wanted to see her laugh and cry, come apart in his arms and bring him into her 
soul.
     He hugged her tightly, acknowledging that she wasn't the kind of woman who 
made this decision lightly.
     She seemed to like being held as much as he liked holding her, and they lay 
that way until he lost count of her heartbeats.
     "I'm sorry I didn't call you."
     Her apology reminded him of how infuriated, albeit feigned, he'd been. . 
.before. Pulling back to look at her face, he shook his head. "I can't be mad at 
you. I took one look at you, and it all went away."
     The smile she gave him put pink in her cheeks. She was irresistible. 
     Cupping her face in his hands, he shifted over her and started kissing 
anywhere he could reach. 
         
          
     "I didn't know. I swear I didn't. I thought you were innocent, but. . .I 
don't know any virgins."
     They lay together, wrapped in each others' arms under her blanket. 
     For some reason, the unexpected sharpness of pain had led to a total loss 
of inhibitions for Bethany. She had nothing left to hide. She was naked, he was 
naked, and she was more comfortable than she'd ever been alone and naked. 
     Rod was so sweet and loving. He'd actually had tears in his eyes when she 
managed to look at him again a half hour ago. That was all the proof she needed 
that she'd given her virginity to the right man.
     "I thought you could tell," she said softly, cuddling closer to his body 
heat. "But it doesn't matter. I'm not sorry."
     "I hurt you. I never meant to hurt you."
     Cupping his cheek with one hand, she shook her head. "That's over. It won't 
change anything, because I love you. I want to be with you."
     The words were the natural extension of her heart. They came without 
thought but plenty of honesty. It wasn't until she recognized the shock in his 
eyes that she was embarrassed. 
     She looked away. "I'm sorry. You probably hear that all the time--" . . . 
'when you don't want to' was what she'd been about to say when he suddenly 
flipped her on her back. His kiss was gentle for all its fierceness.
     Bethany was only beginning to realize how much power he had over her body. 
Every time he touched her, her body flowed toward him, seeking the pleasure only 
he could give her. While, at first, it had astonished her how willing she could 
be the truth was there was no choice, if she'd wanted one. Rod could easily 
become the master of a sexuality she'd never been 100% sure she had until now.
     "Do you hurt?" he asked, sweetly
     Wantonly, she shook her head, only feeling a little fear when he pressed 
against her again. Her body started to feel like a wisp of cloud. . .or a 
wind-up toy about to spin out of control.
     All she could do was hold on because it was nothing like she'd ever 
imagined. It was as if they stepped into a place created for only the two of 
them, a place no one else could ever intrude on or become a part of. They were 
in their own private heaven. No words could ever describe the beauty of the love 
she felt, the love she received.
     Whether it lasted five minutes or forever, she didn't notice. All she knew 
was that, even when it was over, it didn't end. While it wasn't as intense, she 
felt warm and soft and intimate, laying with the man she loved and had given 
herself to wholly.
     She wanted to tell Rod she loved him again, even though he hadn't returned 
it last time, and would have if she hadn't heard something from the front room.
     "Did you bring Cameron with you?" she asked, not remembering much of 
anything after he'd brought her into the bedroom.
     At the same time Rod said "No", she heard a voice calling her name. The 
voice was familiar as her own.
     She sat bolt upright. "It's my brother!"
     Apparently she'd been wrong. Their private heaven could be intruded upon. 
And by Randy, her legal guardian and the person she least wanted to disappoint.
     Rod sat up too, slower, as she scrambled out of bed and tried to find 
something appropriate to put on. "What's up? You're twenty-four-years-old. He 
can't ground you, sweetness."
     Her relationship with her brother was something she couldn't and didn't 
have time to explain to him. He lived with his sister too, but she was sure he 
wasn't the protector Randy was. This wasn't a scene he'd ever walked in on 
before. As for expectations. . . More likely Randy would expect a purple dragon 
to be cavorting in their bathroom than this.
     Her robe was in her suitcase out by the door, and she couldn't go out in 
just her nightgown. With her panties on, she pulled open the closet, knowing Rod 
watched her, thinking she was strange. But Randy's footsteps neared, and then he 
called for her again.
     "I'll be right there," she managed in a voice that undeniably gave her 
away.
     "Everything OK?" he asked through the door.
     Bethany pulled a comfortable dress over her head, meeting Rod's gaze when 
she came out. "I'm fine. Be right out."
     Gosh, this was bad. Rod sat on her bed, naked as the day he was born, 
seemingly not in the least uncomfortable. 
     She was too upset to be uncomfortable with her own nudity, but it didn't 
stop her from catching her breath at his perfection. His body (despite how 
shocked she'd been at seeing a certain part for the first time ever) was worthy 
of being flaunted. Every part of him was golden, muscled, and something she 
wanted to touch. Even with Randy in the apartment.
     He turned to listen to her brother's heavy, retreating footsteps. "6'4, 250 
pounds?"
     His joke took her by surprise, and she stared at him in confusion. How 
could he joke at a time like this?
     "You want me to hide? Or can we just be up-front about it? I'm not a master 
of subterfuge, even with giants who wanna have me castrated."
     This was no time to make a major decision, or a split-second one. She'd be 
humiliated beyond measure if Randy found out this way, after she and Rod had 
just made love for the first time. Her brother would know she'd given her 
virginity to a man whose reputation was notorious. Since she'd met Rod, Randy 
hadn't been silent about the disapproval, though he'd never be cruel to anyone.
     "I have to go out," she said, embarrassed at her sudden inability to look 
at him or to answer his question. The situation was too new and awkward for her 
to know how to handle it.
     She left the room before he could respond, closing the door firmly behind 
her. Cowardly she knew, but her only plan was to smuggle Rod out when Randy went 
to bed.
     He stood at one of the living room windows. Glancing around, he saw her, 
then turned and looked at her again--closely.
     Bethany lifted her hand to her hair. Hiding something was wrong now would 
be impossible. Her employees referred to her fondly as Miss Every Hair in Place, 
and it was the truth. Even in her own home, she kept her appearance tidy. Randy 
knew that best.
     "I didn't know you would be back tonight," she said pitifully, as she 
accepted his hug.
     "I left a message on the machine Monday night. When did you get in?"
     He stepped back to see her. It couldn't be true, but she felt that her 
status as ex-virgin was written all over her face for everyone to read.
     "A few hours ago," she told him, lowering her gaze. Her emotions were so 
high, she was afraid she'd burst into tears right here and now.
     "So how'd it go in Madison?"
     Hearing the click of her bedroom door opening, Bethany shook her head, 
unable to speak.
     The cat was out of the bag. If she wanted Randy to believe she was truly in 
love with Rod, she'd have to be strong and unashamed. She was going to have to 
take charge of her life. 



CHAPTER SIX
     Rod got up and got dressed, figuring that if he was in Bethany's brother's 
place he'd at least respect courage in the guy he'd have to kill.
     Bethany didn't want a confrontation, but sooner or later there'd have to be 
one if her brother disliked him as much as she implied. There'd have to be one 
because he wasn't going away. Her brother would just have to accept that when he 
saw how much they loved each other.
     It wasn't as if they'd done anything wrong anyway. They were both adults, 
of legal age, and Randy was her brother, not her father.
     Bethany was a grown woman, who'd given her virginity to him, told him she 
loved him, and made love with him in a way he couldn't get over. All his life 
women had seduced him, before sex, during sex, after sex. Not one, not even one, 
had laid back and done nothing except love it. God, Bethany made him feel like . 
. .like he made the world go around for her. 
     And she loved him. Said the words to him and everything. Truthfully, he'd 
expected nothing less from this woman. When she gave her body, it came with her 
heart or it wasn't for sale. 
     She was the perfect woman for him. The only woman forever on.
     The only bad thing about confronting her brother now, other than what 
Bethany's reaction might be, was that it meant he'd have to go home. Bethany 
would be too uncomfortable to sleep with him if her brother was here.
     No way he'd get any sleep, no matter where he stayed. Not after what had 
just happened.
     Making love to her tonight had actually happened without any premeditation. 
After hurting her the way he had, he'd been afraid to ever touch her again. But 
then she'd told him she loved him and seemed to think he was offended by 
everything he'd ever wanted. And, baby, he'd wanted her past fear. 
     Loving Bethany was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It was color and 
music and suddenly having his whole life come into perspective for the first 
time. It was more than bodies or satisfaction. It was peace.
     After pulling his boots on, he grabbed his leather jacket from the floor 
and kicked his confidence into high gear. Honest and to the point, he wouldn't 
do anything to provoke a guy more than four inches taller than he was with 
eighty plus pounds on him. He was in good shape, but his brain ruled his body 
this time, thank God.
     He opened the bedroom door, pulling on his jacket as he walked down the 
hall toward the voices. Bethany didn't turn around to face him, but Randy sure 
perked up. When she said her brother was big, she'd been understating things. 
This guy would make Hercules look like a geek. God help Rod if he was the 
violent type.
     The look of disbelief on Randy's face suggested he make a break for it 
before the human road block prevented him.
     Bethany turned to him, her gaze full of the embarrassment she felt. But 
then she did something that threw both of the men for a loop--she introduced 
them as if the situation was no more awkward than running into a friend on the 
street. 
     Rod couldn't help himself. If his baby could go against her very nature to 
show her brother she wasn't ashamed of them, he could at least match her. He 
went right up to her and hugged her from the back, saying, "Hey" to Randy as if 
he had nothing to lose.
     Her brother lost the ability to look at Rod after that. He was obviously 
furious, though his words came out carefully controlled. "What's going on here, 
Bethie?"
     Certainly he didn't want the stark truth, and Bethany was tactful enough to 
skirt it. "I told you I was seeing someone, Randy. I just got back from Madison, 
and Rod came over."
     Randy's mouth became two flat, locked lines that were about the only thing 
holding back of flood of obscenities. "I think you'd better leave now."
     Rod wasn't sure how Randy normally looked at his sister, but this disbelief 
couldn't be it. "On my way," Rod said smoothly, urging Bethany, "Walk me to the 
door."
     She nodded, turning to go with him.
     "Rod?" Randy said, his voice soft. "I can find out where you live easily."
     That was all. No violence, no heated words. Just the reminder that if Rod 
hurt his sister, he'd come after him.
     A giant who wasn't the confrontational type. Hm.
     Rod put his arm around Bethany, and they walked out of the living room to 
the front door. Bethany looked a little wounded, a little relieved when he 
pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
     "I wish I didn't have to go. I was looking forward to spending the night in 
your bed," he murmured for her ears only.
     Even with her brother a few feet away, he could see her corresponding 
passion. She wanted him to stay, wanted to make love again as much as he did. 
     "We're so right together, sweetness, I don't think I'll ever get a full 
night's sleep again."
     Before she could glance back to see if her brother was watching them, he 
took her mouth one last time, getting what he could to satisfy him for the 
endless hours he'd to be without her.
         
     
     Rod left the apartment in the kind of solemn silence that would make a monk 
uncomfortable. Leaning back against the wall facing the front door, Bethany 
glanced around the corner to see her brother sitting on the couch with his hands 
over his mouth, as if he'd witnessed some horror. 
     The last thing in the world she wanted to do was face him again, to explain 
things. How could she tell him that, though she'd been sure enough to give 
herself body and soul to Rod, she wasn't sure she'd ever see him again? He'd 
left without giving her any assurances about anything except that he'd enjoyed 
their intimacy as much as she had. He'd left without so much as a "See you 
tomorrow", "I'll call you", or most importantly, "I love you and want to spend 
the rest of my life with you." 
     If she admitted she wasn't even sure where things stood between her and 
Rod, Randy would be disappointed in that way that was worse than verbal 
disparagement. As he had after she'd admitted her involvement with Scott Reeves, 
Randy would frown silently and unintentionally leave her feeling scorned.
     "Does he love you?" he asked from the lowest note of his vocal chords when 
she came into the living room and sat across from him.
     Bethany hadn't expected that question, a question she couldn't answer, and 
her courage fled her. Mutely, she lowered her gaze to her dress and arranged it 
properly over her crossed thighs.
     Randy's heavy sigh couldn't even make her look up. "Are you sure this is 
what you want, honey? Are you sure he can give you everything you're looking 
for?"
     There was no question that Rod could. If he would was another story.
     "I know all the rumors, but he's not what everyone says. He's. . .he's like 
a little boy." What a contradictory thing to claim, she thought, after what had 
happened in her bedroom. Yet it was true. "He's sweet and gentle, and he treats 
me like I'm special to him." 
     She cast a furtive glance in her brother's direction to confirm he'd known 
she'd say that. Randy had to believe she'd never give herself to a man she 
didn't believe in.
     Randy pushed his fingers through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck the 
way he always did when frustrated. "You're a grown woman, Bethie, but I've 
sheltered you. This world is full of wolves disguised as sheep."
     "If you knew him the way I do, you couldn't think of him that way."
     "I don't know him, and I'm not saying he is a wolf. I'm just telling you to 
be careful. Don't rush into anything blindly."
     Embarrassed, because he might be implying she had rushed into something 
blindly, she said softly, "I haven't. I love him, and I'm not a fool."
     "I know you're not, honey. You're just naive."
     She knew Randy believed in her innocence despite the recent loss of her 
virginity. "I don't wanna see you get hurt, that's all. I don't know him well 
enough to judge his intentions."
     When he held out his hand, Bethany got up instantly and went to him. 
Putting his massive, familiar arms around her, he made her feel loved. "You know 
I hope things work out exactly the way you want them to. You deserve the best."
     She went to her bedroom a few minutes later, taking her luggage in with her 
this time. Because she knew she'd never be able to sleep, she began unpacking. 
Every time she looked back at her bed, she felt the heat of embarrassment and 
wanting course through her.
     She changed into nightclothes and was about to get in bed when the phone 
rang. She raced into the living room to answer the phone, afraid it would wake 
Randy. . .or be anyone except Rod.
     "Hello?" she whispered into the receiver, having caught it during the 
second ring.
     "Hi. Did I wake you up?" 
     Rod's voice had become a catalyst in her blood. She could hardly hear her 
answer over her own heartbeat.
     "I wish you could've come home with me, sweetness. We shouldn't be apart 
now."
     The rush of pleasure was almost too much to bear, because they couldn't be 
together.
     "You know, I was thinking we should go away together for a couple days. 
Rent a cabin or something and hide away from the world. What do you think?"
     She thought it sounded like paradise. Anything that meant the two of them 
alone and secluded meant paradise. "But my salon. . ."
     "You left for over half a week already. What's another day gonna hurt?"
     Without needing to check it, Bethany knew her schedule would be light 
tomorrow. It always was, which made them rely on walk-ins more than was 
advisable.
     "Just think, three days of just the two of us, doing anything we wanna do."
     How could she refuse him anything, especially something she wanted as much 
as he did? For a minute, she wondered what other people would think of her going 
off with a man she'd only known a handful of days. Randy, her employees, the 
church. Then she thought it was no one else's business. The only one she'd tell 
was Randy.
     "When do we leave?"
     "Really? You'll come with me?" Rod sounded like a giddy child, exactly how 
she felt. "Let's leave tomorrow morning or afternoon. I can get us something 
somewhere."
     Where didn't matter to her. Anywhere at all was fine.
     "So you never told me what happened in Madison. Did you get what you 
wanted?"
     As part of the reason she'd been so miserable earlier, she wanted to tell 
someone. It made her happy Rod asked, as only Randy ever had before. "No. The 
investor wants to turn my salon into a chain. I wouldn't even get to choose 
which hair care products to use or sell."
     "Oh. So, what'd you do? Tell him to take a long walk off a short pier?"
     That was exactly what Bethany had wanted to do, and she giggled. She'd 
listened to the investor tell her how lucky she was to have him interested, and 
what a fool she'd be if she passed up on his offer. Without his money, she would 
be working at Cheap Cuts within a month, with the shape her finances were in 
now.
     "I said I'd think about it."
     "You can do it without him," Rod encouraged, making her love him even more.
     "I wish I could, but I don't think I can hold onto it much longer. I 
haven't made a profit in almost a year."
     "Didn't you say you were doing good the first year?"
     Had she told him that? She couldn't remember, but every time she was near 
him focusing on anything except him was impossible. "I was until a chain salon 
opened up a few blocks away from mine."
     "Well, from now on, you've got all my business. Nobody cuts my hair except 
Bethany Briggs."
     Though $10.95 a month wouldn't get her salon out of the red, it was the 
better of the two offers she'd gotten. 
     For this weekend, nothing would matter. She'd put her professional problems 
to the side and simply enjoy paradise with her man.
         
          
     "I hope you don't mind I brought Cam along," Rod said, setting their 
luggage on the floor inside the cabin.
     Bethany shook her head. "I was going to suggest it." Leaning down near 
Cameron, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. She was the first 
woman his sister's dog had liked in two years.
     When she stood up, looking around the cabin as she did, she removed her 
coat. Under it, she wore this dress. . .crochet, he thought, that wasn't meant 
to be, but was, sexy. The liner beneath the crochet was just a slip with 
spaghetti straps. The collar and sleeves were all ruffled and. . . God, he 
wanted her.
     His body had spent the night aching for more, so his first glimpse of her 
that morning had started the motor running. He'd taken any opportunity to touch 
her, which hadn't gone unnoticed by her otherwise silent brother. The gentle 
giant hadn't spoken even when Rod talked to him. Nods, head shakes, vague noises 
were all he'd gotten, but he didn't care. He'd just been killing time until 
Bethany was ready to embark on their three hour journey up north to Phillips.
     The driving made him wish he'd given a little more consideration to 
location, because all he took into account was that Phillips was one of the few 
places in Wisconsin he hadn't been. He didn't think while making plans that a 
three hour drive when he could make love to her sooner if they just went to his 
house would drive him crazy.
     "This is nice. A fireplace," she said, turning her head to smile at him. 
That was when he recognized it. Though she'd been a little shy today, her 
glances in his direction had been frequent and intense. He understood now. 
Sweet, demure Bethany wanted him. She invited him to make a move on her with 
every look.
     "I better get the groceries in." The words came through clenched teeth, and 
she looked at him strangely.
     "Oh. Do you need help?"
     Shaking his head positively, he went out and got all four of the bags at 
once. If she'd come along to help, he wasn't sure he could control himself 
enough not to take her on the hood of his car.
     When he went inside, Bethany was leaning into the small refrigerator to 
adjust the temperature. Rod almost dropped everything then and there. The nylons 
she wore were nude, but they caught the light, making her ankles, calves, and 
the back of her thighs look like spun silk. Her skirt was a loose hem, assuring 
him that if she bent over just a little more. . .
     Setting the bags down without regard for the contents, he walked around the 
table just as she straightened and turned toward him.
     Her surprise was quickly replaced with acknowledgment and acceptance. She 
reached for him, welcoming his kiss and the hands he slid up under her dress 
with a sigh. Opening his eyes, he saw the deep flush in her cheeks.
     At the same time he reached for the buttons at the back of her dress, she 
started pushing at his leather jacket. Together they rid him of it, and then her 
hands were on him. Nothing could feel better than her eager, untutored touch.
     After a minute, he carried her to the carpet in front of the fireplace and 
laid her inside his leather jacket. She smiled when he joined her. 
     "What?"
     Shaking her head, she said in a drunk voice, "It's not fine. It's 
wonderful. It's perfect."
     She lay there, looking so soft, messed up, so content, his insides tangled 
and knotted. They were alone, in love, and this was forever.
     Leaning down, he took her mouth in a caress that reaffirmed the words: "I'm 
never gonna let you go, sweetness."
         
          
     Moonlight streamed through the windows, and Bethany finally heeded its 
call. Slipping out from the warmth of the comforter and Rod's body, she searched 
for her underwear to no avail. 
     Putting on a fresh pair of panties from her untouched suitcase, she went to 
unpack the groceries. She understood now why Rod had insisted on buying more 
snacks than food. Had it not been for the Twinkies and potato chips, they would 
have starved today.
     Cameron must have been summoned by the moon too because he came out of the 
bedroom, where he'd been sleeping at the end of the bed, and rubbed his head 
against her leg.
     For the first few hours at the cabin, she'd been embarrassed about the dog 
seeing her naked and seeing them make love, especially when he'd come to stand 
over them and stare. Rod had called him a voyeur and assured her that Cameron 
didn't know she was naked, just thought she had on a different outfit.
     She opened a can of the dog food they'd stocked for him, hoping to make up 
for the snacks Rod had fed him earlier.
     The cabin was a little cold, despite the warmth coming from the fireplace. 
Instead of turning it up higher, she lifted Rod's leather jacket from the floor, 
surprised by how heavy it was, and eased it on. Engulfed in the scent, she went 
to the wide, padded seat below the bay windows overlooking the lake.
     A part of her still couldn't believe she was here. Randy had been right, 
when she told him that morning she was going away with Rod: It wasn't like her. 
It wasn't like her to be doing the things she'd done countless times today with 
a man she wasn't married to. A man who, at the very least, hadn't said he loved 
her. She'd kept her own declaration of love inside this time because she didn't 
want anything out of guilt, lust or obligation.
     Her guilt had already begun, in moments that didn't include lovemaking. She 
couldn't refuse Rod, and that was wrong. Even if he told her outright that it 
was only an affair, she couldn't deny him. She loved him, wanted to be with him 
without wasting a minute, and she'd do anything to make this permanent.
     Of course there'd been that initial doubt. After he'd left last night, she 
wondered if he'd gotten what he wanted and so it was over. But he'd wanted her 
today. He'd been the one to reach for her each time. It thrilled her that he 
couldn't seem to get enough of her. 
     The way he treated her made her love him more. Not once had it ever been 
strictly physical. The softness in his eyes every time he looked at her, the 
things he said, the way he always had to touch her somehow. . .he seemed to want 
to know everything there was to know about her and was just as willing to share 
his life with her. Nothing was too personal. Nothing should be too personal 
between two people who'd indulged in such intimate acts. If he hadn't been so 
open, she would have known it was just an affair to him. Now. . .now she had 
hope of a commitment.
     Wrapping her arms around her herself, she burrowed deeper into the leather 
jacket. The night was beautiful. Bethany couldn't remember ever being up this 
late, but she'd missed something. The sky was like twinkling diamonds on black 
velvet. A few minutes later, the twinkling diamonds fell toward the earth.
     Snow! It was the first snow, an early one, and she saw it as it happened 
instead of the morning after. Bethany was so excited, she wanted to go wake Rod 
up so he could share it with her.
     From the bedroom, she heard the creak of the floor boards, and seconds 
later, Rod appeared wrapped in the comforter as if she'd summoned him 
telepathically.
     "It's snowing," she told him, a little breathlessly. As much as she liked 
how he looked in public, she loved this man more. Messed up, boyish and achingly 
sexy.
     "Really?" He walked over to the window, and she knew he wore nothing 
beneath the blanket. It was no wonder he never wore a shirt. He was thoroughly 
comfortable wearing nothing at all.
     "Were you ever a centerfold?" she asked without thinking, then added to 
herself like some of the models he'd dated.
     Rod turned his head and looked at her with sleepy eyes. "I thought about 
it, back when money was an incentive. But I didn't want this body to become 
common."
     The way he walked in the blanket was adorable--like it was one of those 
skinny, long dresses. He sat in back of her, opening the blanket to surround her 
with as it as well as with his body. She loved cuddling with Rod. Though she'd 
always imagined it, the real thing was better. He fit her in a way that was 
exclusive. No one else could ever do.
     "When we go back Sunday night. . ." he murmured, his head on her shoulder, 
turned toward her. "I want you to move in with me."
     His desire was something that would have confirmed their commitment in her 
eyes if she hadn't already realized Rod had a pattern with other women. A rush 
into a sexual relationship, then the move-in with him, and finally, a week or 
two later it was over. She didn't want this. She wanted to be with him all the 
time, especially at night and in the morning, but she didn't want to be a 
pattern and a statistic in his life.
     "Will you, sweetness?" he urged after several minutes of silence.
     "I. . .I don't know." What she didn't know was how she could ever say no to 
him.
     "I want you as close to me as I can get you. I won't interfere with your 
career. I promise. I just want you to come home to me every night."
     Oh gosh, she wanted that too.
     "I can't sleep without you anymore, Bethany. I woke up, and you weren't 
there. It was cold and dark and lonely."
     She turned toward him, unable to tolerate the thought that he'd felt that 
way. She never wanted to feel those things again herself, and wouldn't allow him 
to if she had any say in it. "I'll move in with you."
     If she was a pattern, then she'd be the one that broke the mold. She'd 
treat him so well, he'd never be able to live without her again.
         
          
     The first thing Bethany did when she got back to Stevens Point Sunday 
evening was to have Rod drop her off at home so she could tell Randy. 
     Even before she revealed her decision, she knew her brother was 
uncomfortable about the entire situation, when, out of politeness, he asked how 
things had gone. His question was even more uncomfortable for Bethany, because 
he knew as well as she did that she and Rod hadn't gone for the sightseeing. The 
isolation she felt from her brother saddened her. But even if she someday was 
ashamed of her actions too, she couldn't change anything.
     She told Randy as quickly as she could that she was moving out and in with 
Rod, too afraid to look at him for his reaction. The minutes of silence crawled 
by until she wanted to scream or burst into tears. 
     "This isn't like you, Bethie," he said quietly.
     Despite realizing that it wasn't so much that Randy was disappointed in 
her, she went into her bedroom to pack for the night with tears falling from her 
eyes. He just didn't trust Rod's intentions, based on his reputation. He thought 
it inevitable she'd be hurt and she should be more cautious for that 
probability. She could do that, she would, but the love in her heart was more 
powerful than the doubts in her head.
     She chose an outfit for work the next day, got her hurt under control, then 
went back out. Rod would be here to pick her up soon. He'd gone to get them 
something for dinner.
     "When will you be giving up the apartment?" Randy asked.
     It shamed Bethany to admit she'd unconsciously planned the rest of her life 
practically without him. Everything had been about Rod lately, and when she'd 
agreed to move in with him tomorrow she hadn't thought of her brother. "I'm 
moving in with Rod tomorrow," she said with a locked throat.
     After pausing for endless seconds, Randy nodded, then forced a smile. "You 
should probably give me your phone number and address."
     That threw Bethany for a loop, because, while she knew where Rod lived, she 
didn't know the exact address or the phone number. . .and she'd made love with 
him, not knowing those basics.
     From outside, a car horn went off. Rod's signal that he was back. "I better 
go. I'll call you tonight with the address and telephone number."
     Randy got up, and though she felt unworthy, she accepted his hug.
     Gosh, she hoped things worked out. Otherwise she'd have to live with her 
brother wherever he went and never be able to look him in the eye again.
     She went down to Rod, and he gave her a set of house keys. Though she'd 
assumed she'd be uncomfortable in his home, as she was last time, she wasn't 
because his loving attention to her made that impossible. He gave her everything 
she needed, most of the time without her saying a word. Actually, the only time 
she spoke up was when they went up to bed, to the bedroom he'd shared with 
Nicole Martini. She didn't even want to enter it, and she admitted to him the 
truth.
     They ended up in the bedroom with nothing except empty space, sleeping on a 
pile of blankets on the floor. Rod told her he'd get the room professionally 
decorated for them, but she liked the idea of decorating it herself. They 
decided to get some catalogs the next day and pick everything out together.
     Bethany fell asleep in Rod's arms, too happy to feel any shame, regret or 
doubts.
     The next morning, they rose together bright and early, showered together, 
then he took her to breakfast. He was in an uncontrolled mood of excitement she 
attributed to their new living arrangement.
     While she was at work, he'd pack up all her things at the apartment. Since 
it'd come furnished, everything would be light. He wouldn't need anyone to help 
him. She gave him the key to the apartment, to be left for Randy to return to 
the superintendent.
     It was still early when they got to her salon, and though she had work to 
do before her employees arrived, she relented when Rod begged to come in with 
her for just a few minutes.
     Taking the key from her, Rod unlocked the door as Bethany reminded herself 
that today she had to make a decision concerning the investor.
     Stepping inside, Bethany was sure she was in the wrong shop, even turning 
to look at the window that heralded her name. Thoughts went through her head at 
the speed of light in her attempt to understand what had happened. The only 
explanation that fit was the investor had misinterpreted her uncertainty as a 
go-ahead.
     "Well, what do you think?" Rod asked behind her.
     "I didn't say yes to the investor! I didn't even sign anything. He can't 
move in and do--"
     "He didn't, sweetness."
     Bethany turned to him, more confused than ever. If the investor hadn't done 
all this remodeling, then who. . .?
     Staring at him in disbelief, she tried to find words but her embarrassment 
and anger were too great. How could he do this to her? A sapphire bracelet was 
one thing. But this. . . "I can't. . . You have to put it back the way it was. I 
could never afford this."
     This consisted of the remodeling of the other side of the building she'd 
wanted to expand into, to look like the three work stations she'd been using. 
There were seven stations now. The reception desk was larger, her retail metal 
shelving had been replaced with wood shelves built onto the wall. Her little 
laundry room had tripled in size, and the dimensions of her office seemed to 
have altered too.
     Rod moved over to her and put his arms around her instantly stiff body. 
"You don't have to afford it. It's all yours. They did a good job, didn't they? 
For the rush I put on them." 
     He glanced around proudly, lingering on the area where the black and white 
checkered floor had ended before. There was no evidence that a dividing line had 
ever existed now.
     "I had Travis put ads in the papers, so you can hire more stylists, and 
there's gonna be some coupons that are a little cheaper than the chain down the 
street. They'll be out of business in a month, I bet."
     Rod looked so happy, so satisfied, it made her want to cry. "I can't afford 
any of that. I can't pay more employees. I can barely pay the two I have. I know 
you meant well, but I can't afford expansion."
     "You can afford everything. I put some money in the salon account. You can 
tell the investor to take that long walk off a short pier now."
     Tears of humiliation crept into her eyes, and she had to turn away from 
him. "How much money?"
     "It doesn't matter. It should be enough for you to make this place into 
what you want it to be." A note of doubt had crept into his voice. "Isn't this 
what you wanted?"
     "Yes," she barely whispered. "But not this way. I can't accept something 
like this. I can't understand why you would do it."
     Somehow their weekend seemed tarnished now. Why would it inspire him to 
gifts like this? At the same time it was too much, it was too little.
     "Bethany, look at me."
     She didn't want to, not with unshed tears in her eyes, but he turned her to 
face him. The softness in his expression when he saw her reaction convinced her 
that this was just another reckless thing he'd rushed into before considering 
the consequences. He'd had no underhanded motives.
     He cupped her face with one hand, caressing her jaw tenderly. "You're my 
baby. You're mine and I'm yours. Everything I have is yours, OK? I know how much 
you love this place, and how you felt about giving somebody else control of it. 
This way you can do anything you want. I thought it'd make you happy. You're 
under no obligation this way. It's all yours."
     When she couldn't speak, he added, "I couldn't stand to see you miserable, 
sweetness. Not without doing anything to change it. Can you understand?"
     She did understand, but she didn't know how she could survive if he got 
tired of playing house and she had to come here each weekday to face what she'd 
gotten in exchange for his love.



CHAPTER SEVEN
     With no idea how much stuff Bethany had, yet knowing his car wouldn't have 
enough room for much of anything, Rod rented a small moving truck after he left 
the salon.
     To tell the truth, he was in something of a fog. He'd thought the 
renovation would grant him another "I love you" instead of "How could you?" 
Never before had a woman almost refused his gift because she hadn't worked for 
it. Maybe she just wasn't used to men giving her gifts. Well, that would change. 
He'd give her everything she'd ever wanted and deserved.
     Armed with her keys and the list of things that were hers in the apartment, 
he walked up the stairs to her floor, hoping her brother had gone out for any 
reason at all. Rod was used to being liked by everybody he met, but Randy Briggs 
wanted to take him apart, albeit in the quietest manner possible. Trying to 
defend himself against a guy so huge was certain suicide. On the other hand, Rod 
wasn't a wimp and he hadn't done anything he had to justify himself for. If 
spending a weekend isolated with the woman he loved had become a crime in 
Wisconsin, he'd move somewhere else.
     The weekend had been everything he wanted forever. Bethany there with him, 
always within reach, always ready to love him, always ready to be loved.
     He'd found the woman his lifetime had been calling out for, and he wouldn't 
lose her now to a muscle-bound, overprotective giant of a brother.
     Unlocking the door, he went inside and heard music. Goliath was present and 
accounted for.
     Randy turned from looking out a living room window with a coffee mug in his 
hand when Rod entered the living room. No surprise came into the big guy's gray 
eyes.
     "Hey," Rod said in a friendly tone that revealed none of his caution. "I'm 
here to get Bethany's stuff."
     As seemed to be his custom, Randy said nothing, only nodded in a way that 
told Rod he'd been expected and probably dreaded.
     Randy had already begun packing his own things, based on the couple boxes 
scattered around the living room.
     Pursuing a conversation was pointless. Both of them had already squared off 
to separate corners anyway.
     In Bethany's closet, Rod found the boxes of books on her list and took them 
down to the truck two at a time. It took two trips, and then he brought up the 
empty boxes he'd bought at the truck rental place. 
     He filled two boxes with the drawers of lingerie she had and four of the 
upright garment boxes with all her clothes from her closet.
     Going back and forth between the bedroom and the front door where he 
stacked the boxes, he'd brought another load to the door when Randy finally said 
something. "You're treating my sister like a common whore. I don't like it."
     Rod's first reaction was hurt. Then he thought their trip to Phillips 
wasn't the only thing Randy meant. He wanted to know what the difference between 
how Rod treated Bethany to other his other women was, because he couldn't see 
any difference. Finally, it bothered him that Randy would even suggest anything 
so vulgar about his own sister. "Bethany's as far away from being a whore as the 
North Pole is from the South Pole. Being with me doesn't change that, and you 
know it."
     "I do know that," Randy said, offended.
     "Well, you've only seen the outside then, cuz you don't know anything about 
what's inside me. I love her."
     It wasn't the first time he'd been sentenced without a trial, but for some 
reason this time hurt more than the others. Bethany cared about what her brother 
thought, and he didn't like knowing he wasn't up to the standards. He wanted 
Bethany to be proud to be with him, not ashamed she'd fallen for a loser.
     Turning away, he went to get the last box from the bathroom. He carried all 
the boxes he'd stacked near the front door down to the truck without seeing 
Randy. When he came back the last time, to make sure he hadn't missed anything, 
Randy was there with another box. "These are Bethie's CD's and movies."
     Rod took the box, looking at his list instead of at her brother when he 
said, "You're a man. You should know that the right woman doesn't always 
announce herself immediately, the way Bethany did when I met her. I never wanted 
to settle for second best, and now I don't have to."
     Randy's face reflected his feelings, and he said, "I'm sorry. I'm not 
usually so judgmental."
     Holding a grudge had never been Rod's strong point. He waved it away 
easily. "It's Bethany. You want the best for your sister, and you want her to be 
happy. I want the same things for her. Just like I want the same things for my 
own sister. I understand."
     After a few seconds, Randy smiled sheepishly.
     "I'll take good care of her," Rod promised. "So you can stop worrying. Now, 
you want some help carrying anything?"
         
          
     Despite the good first year of business Bethany had had, she couldn't 
remember a day more hectic.
     Olivia and Kimberly came in at eight, as usual, and both were racing each 
other in their questions. Had she said yes to the investor without telling them? 
It was the only thing they could fathom when the construction crew showed up 
Friday morning. Bethany told them another "investor" had done all of this, and 
she was keeping control of her salon.
     The next question had to do with her weekend with Rod. They'd guessed she 
went away with Rod. Olivia made the same comment Randy had. It wasn't like her. 
Kimberly added that she must really be in love.
     Bethany was saved from having to comment when the first rush of clients 
came in, all walk-ins using the coupons Rod mentioned. 
     Shortly after that, someone came in wanting to apply for the position 
advertised in the newspaper. It had been so long since Bethany interviewed she 
wasn't even sure she had any applications on hand. She found a single one in her 
files, and had to run across the street to make copies of it. 
     By noon, five copies weren't enough, and she sent Kimberly to make more 
while she divided her time between her clients and answering the nonstop ringing 
phone, making appointments.
     She received a copy of a deposit slip in the mail that day and discovered 
the excessive amount Rod had deposited in her account just before they'd left 
for their weekend.
     The humiliation was worse this time, since Rod wasn't there to remove the 
sting with sweet words. What did it make her if she accepted this kind of 
generosity? Did it mean she was some kind of prostitute?
     In the mail, she also received a legal document signed by Rod that, after 
reading four times, she realized meant if things didn't work out for them he had 
no claim on her business.
     So, she was set for life, no matter what. Maybe she should have felt that 
way, but she knew she couldn't keep any of this if she didn't have Rod. She 
wasn't set for life. She had more worries than ever.
     Just after 4:30, she started to feel crampy. The timing couldn't have been 
worse. What if Rod got mad at her for getting her period the day she was moving 
in with him? When Kimberly got hers, she frequently complained about it because 
some of her boyfriends "got mad" at her for it. If Rod was upset and threw her 
out of his house because she couldn't make love with him, she had nowhere to go.
     Rod came to pick her up a few minutes before five, carrying flowers again. 
He kissed her right in front of Olivia and Kimberly, then turned to grin at 
them. "So, how'd it go today?"
     Kimberly removed a four-inch heel. "Do these blisters tell you anything? 
I've had my aerobic activity for the next month."
     "Thank God I have tomorrow off," Olivia said, and then saw the stricken 
look of reminder on Bethany's face. She couldn't possibly make it through 
another day like today minus one employee. "I can come in tomorrow, sweetie, but 
I hope you've hired more help by next Tuesday."
     "Thank you, Olivia." Bethany squeezed her arm, then watched her overworked 
employees limp out the door.
     "Did anyone apply?" Rod asked her as she pulled on her coat.
     "Does the state of Wisconsin constitute as anyone? I didn't know there were 
so many certified cosmetologists in Stevens Point."
     "They're probably all from the chain down the street."
     She managed a smile, despite how terrible she felt. What she needed were 
some pills and sleep. She'd be fine then.
     After locking up she walked with him to his car. He told her all about his 
day. Getting her stuff from her apartment, helping her brother move, getting 
groceries. . .
     "You look pale. You OK, sweetness?" He'd helped her into the passenger side 
and leaned in to look at her closely. 
     How could she lie when it was unnatural for her to, and when she couldn't 
hide how sick she felt? 
     "Did you work too hard?"
     Bethany shook her head. "It's just. . .a woman thing." She was too ill to 
even hide that. 
     After a few seconds, it was clear Rod understood and her obvious pain 
distressed him. "Are you OK? Does it hurt? What can I do?"
     "Can we go to your house?"
     He was so sweet, her worries of being tossed out were banished. Once they 
got to his house, he carried her into the house and laid her on the couch. 
Cameron stayed with her while Rod ran out of the room without explanation. The 
time drifted as she did in and out of sleep.
     He came back to get her, this time taking her upstairs where he sat her on 
a bed in the room they'd spent last night in. "Where did you get this bed?" she 
asked as he unbuttoned her blazer.
     "It was supposed to be a surprise." He was undressing her as if she was a 
child, and she didn't mind at all. "It's as close to your bed in the apartment 
as I could get. I wanted it to be like the bed we first made love in."
     The bed was beautiful, with intricate wood posts, carvings, and a mattress 
so comfortable she wanted to snuggle down into it.
     "I hope you don't mind I picked it out instead of us doing it together. I 
didn't want you to have to sleep on the floor your first night officially living 
here."
     She shook her head, lifting her arms so he could put a nightie on her. 
"It's beautiful. I love it."
     "The sheets and blankets are old. . ." he apologized, covering her once she 
was under the blanket. "I wanted you to pick those out for us. When you're 
better."
     Keeping her eyes open was a struggle, but she did, watching him pick up the 
bottle of pills she needed. "You wanna take some of these? I remembered what box 
I put them in, thankfully."
     She nodded, and he helped her take two of them with water.
     "I'll let you sleep--"
     Grabbing his arm to prevent him from leaving, she whispered, "Stay. Stay 
with me."
     "Are you sure? I don't wanna do anything to hurt you."
     "You won't. I want you to stay with me." She wanted to be held by him, but 
it was too much to ask since she was denying him her body.
     Instead of sitting next to her, the only thing she thought she could hope 
for, he pulled off his boots and slid under the covers with her. She curled into 
his arms, feeling happy, satisfied and needy. "I'm sorry we can't. . .make love 
on our first official day of living together."
     He looked down at her, his expression offended. "Don't you dare apologize 
for something like that. There's more between us than that. Don't you know how 
much I love cuddling with you, sweetness?"
     Not caring how much it hurt to move, she pulled herself up and kissed him. 
When she'd first seen the evidence that she had her period today, she'd been 
relieved she wasn't pregnant. Now she wished she was. Maybe she wasn't on shaky 
ground at all. If Rod believed there was more than sex between them and based on 
the love he'd told her he had for children, getting pregnant wouldn't be a 
mistake. Maybe they'd last.
     She fell asleep in his arms, and he was still there when she woke up 
feeling better a few hours later. Glancing up at him sleepily, she saw he was 
wide awake. He'd held her contentedly for hours. The words she'd wanted to speak 
desperately over the weekend were on the tip of her tongue.
     "How do you feel?" he asked gently, brushing his lips over her forehead. 
"You don't have a fever anymore."
     The thought of him kissing her forehead, discovering that she had a fever 
while she slept, made her smile. "Did I? I'm fine now. Just hungry."
     "So am I."
     He tucked her hair away from her face when she started her offer to make 
them something. 
     "No way. I'll get it. I just want you to know beforehand that I've never 
cooked anything in my life. I think I can read directions though."
     After he went out, she got up to go to the bathroom. Rod came back for a 
few minutes and hooked up a TV and VCR, then gave her what had to be a movie 
wrapped in pink. It was a Disney Classic.
     "I noticed you collect these, so I thought you'd like this one."
     "I love them, but how did you get this one? It's isn't available anymore."
     Rod grinned a little sheepishly. "They like to punish people for being 
procrastinators. A friend of mine sold me this."
     They kissed, and he put the movie in the VCR, saying he'd be back in a few 
minutes with food.
     With guilty pleasure, Bethany watched the first ten minutes of the movie 
before Rod came in with a huge tray he set on the end of the bed. He'd made soup 
and sandwiches. She was so hungry, if his cooking skills weren't up to par she 
wouldn't have noticed. They ate with the tray straddling their laps. 
     Once they finished the soup and sandwiches, Rod presented her with a dish 
of butterscotch pudding. With the tray somewhat cleared, she noticed a set of 
keys with strings of curled ribbon hanging from them. "What are these for?" she 
asked, looking up at him. "You already gave me house keys."
     "They're not house keys. I got you something you really need."
     Lowering the dish back to the tray, she looked up at him again, afraid to 
know how much he'd spent on her this time.
     "You said your favorite color for this is white on our first date," he gave 
her a clue.
     Though she didn't remember specifically what she'd said to him, she knew 
she loved white cars, and the keys were a pretty solid indication that her 
suspicion was correct. "Rod, you didn't? I can't accept a car." Why couldn't he 
understand she didn't need his money or anything his money could buy?
     "You'll like it. I knew it was perfect for you the minute I saw it."
     She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Even he'd said there was more 
to their relationship than sex. All the gifts made her feel their relationship 
was... something tainted. "I don't need it," she said softly.
     "I know you're used to walking, but you'll get used to driving in no time. 
You've got your license, don't you?"
     She nodded, feeling numb. He'd done this for other women. She knew he had. 
The spoiling, the lavishing, the moving in and playing house. This was the same 
pattern, and she had no idea how to escape it.
         
     
     Bethany's apprehension grew over the next week with every gift Rod gave 
her. The decorating and furnishing of their bedroom, the hot tub he had 
installed because she came home so exhausted every day, the jewelry, the 
clothing, the flowers.
     She never quite accepted any of it, but she couldn't out-and-out reject him 
either. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the incentive to send her 
away with all her consolation prizes. 
     If anything, he grew more affectionate every day and more eager to please. 
They talked about babies every night at bedtime, as they held each other in the 
dark. He really didn't seem to mind they couldn't make love.
     At work, she'd hired three new stylists, though the whole process made her 
feel horribly guilty. Rod had put her in the position of closing up shop or 
doing everything to make it successful by giving her the money and the 
renovations. She loved her salon too much to walk away from it, and so she did 
everything to make it a success. That meant, based on the amount of appointments 
they'd been getting, she'd have to hire at least two more stylists and a 
receptionist. 
     Beauty by Bethany had become a circus. There was never a moment to be idle, 
to take a break or have lunch. Even in her first year, when things had been 
promising, Bethany and her employees took frequent breaks.
     Friday, at five o'clock, she'd never been more happy to leave her salon 
before. Her feet ached from standing for nine hours. She wanted to go. . .to 
Rod's house (the temptation for her to call it "home" was strong) and have a 
quiet, romantic evening with the man she loved. She was ready to resume 
"relations", despite how tired she was.
     Today, for the first time, she'd driven the car Rod gifted her, out of 
necessity. He lived too far away to walk, and he'd been working a lot to cover 
for his friends while they were in The Keys.
     On the way to Rod's house, she stopped to get the ingredients for a 
romantic dinner. He wasn't home yet, giving her time to get everything started 
in the kitchen and to feed Cameron before she went up to their bedroom and 
picked out a beautiful nightgown from the endless supply of lingerie Rod bought 
for her. Though she wanted to take a bath to get out all the aches, she settled 
for a quick shower and body oil.
     Rod had said he'd be home by at least 5:30, but she knew he'd stop for 
flowers. At a few minutes before 5:30, she slipped into the gown and the 
matching robe. Then she went downstairs to set the table, light the candles and 
pour the wine.
     It dawned on her, at the sound of the front door, that she was setting out 
to seduce him. Everything she'd done in preparation pointed to the one thing he 
couldn't fail to miss: She wanted to make love with him.
     Too late to be so embarrassed, but she knew her face was bright red when he 
came into the kitchen. As she'd predicted, he had pink roses for her tonight.
     His gaze didn't move to the table she'd set or to the stove to see what was 
cooking. All he saw was her. Setting the box of flowers across the arms of a 
chair, he moved over to her. "God, you're beautiful, Bethany. You're better than 
a fantasy."
     How easy to get lost in his eyes, to be spellbound. She was immediately 
glad she'd unconsciously set out to seduce him. He deserved this every night.
     "Did you do all this for me, sweetness?" he asked, drawing her close.
     Her nod was barely there, but he smiled. "I'm some lucky guy."
     She found it hard to breathe. If she breathed at all, his cologne and his 
nearness made her dizzy with longing. 
     As he'd said, she felt she was lucky too. Most women never had a minute 
with the perfect man. Most women settled for second best, wanting what they 
couldn't have. Bethany had everything she wanted, even if it didn't last.
     The front door slammed one second before Rod's lips would have touched 
hers. He turned toward the kitchen entryway and she followed his example. A 
woman Bethany recognized from Rod's descriptions appeared there. JoJo was 
dressed in raggedy jeans and a braless tanktop that was scandalous in light of 
how full-breasted the woman was. Her expression was. . .expressionless.
     The dog was the first to run to her, but Rod got her attention first. 
Pulling away from Bethany, he threw his arms around his sister seconds later, 
exclaiming "Josie!" with the same excitement a child would at seeing Santa.
     Feeling out of place, Bethany wrapped her robe tighter around herself, as 
if shielding herself from harm.
     "What're you doing here?" Rod asked.
     "I live here, remember? I own the house. Any of this ring a bell?" 
     JoJo knelt to greet her dog, and so didn't catch Bethany's humiliation. 
She'd had no idea this house didn't belong to Rod. Of course she knew the two of 
them lived together, but why would Rod invite her to live with him if it wasn't 
even his place to extend such an offer? And JoJo Summers looked mean enough to 
toss her out without batting an eyelash.
     If Bethany made herself at home without the owner's permission, it was only 
right that she invite her to dine with them. "Would you like to join us for 
dinner? I could set another plate--"
     Without glancing at Bethany, JoJo straightened and said to Rod, "I'll be 
staying awhile if I can get Morris to do his job for once."
     Bethany's embarrassment tripled at the barbarous cold-shoulder she'd been 
given. Even worse that Rod didn't seem to care. He wasn't even bothering to 
introduce her.
     Brother and sister proceeded to get into a heated, yet icy cruel argument 
like nothing Bethany had ever experienced with her only sibling. All she wanted 
to do was escape, but they blocked the exit unless she wanted to go out the 
patio doors to the semi-indoor pool in her nightie. 
     Putting her arms around her chest, she tried to be inconspicuous. Not that 
it mattered. As far as JoJo was concerned, she didn't exist any more than 
support bras did.
     JoJo turned and walked out of the room with a muttered expletive.
     "Where you going?" Rod fell immediately back into his 
little-boy-watching-Santa-disappear mode.
     "I'm getting my suitcase and then I'm gonna have a workout." 
     JoJo left them alone with that, Cameron following her up the staircase, and 
Bethany was overcome at how rude the woman was but even more hurt by how Rod 
completely forgot her.
     He turned to her after a minute, as alive and in-tune with her as before 
the interruption. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce you, but Josie doesn't let me 
anymore. She figures it never lasts anyway, so why waste her time. Don't take it 
personally."
     That apology only made Bethany wonder if his sister was simply realistic or 
down-right crude.
     The mood had been spoiled. All she wanted to do was go put her clothes back 
on and hide in the only place she felt safe in this house now--the bedroom Rod 
called "ours."
     He wouldn't let her change though, insisting his sister would be locked 
into the gym for a couple hours. JoJo was an ace at minding her own business, he 
said.
     "Does it bother her, having you live in her house?" Bethany asked while 
they ate the romantic meal she no longer had an appetite for. What she meant was 
"having you and your girlfriends live in her house."
     "Why would she? She's never here. I think she's a vampire. She doesn't eat, 
she doesn't sleep, and she's always out for blood."
     "Vampires sleep during the day," Bethany murmured, using the romantic 
vampire stories she read as her only reference.
     "Well, Josie's a new kind of bloodsucker."
     Fathoming the split personality Rod had with his sister wasn't easy. One 
minute he was the eager little boy, wanting love and attention, and the next he 
was insulting her and acting as if she disgusted him more than any other person. 
He spent much of the meal telling Bethany about his sister's "bad side", which 
served to shock and frighten Bethany. As far as she could tell, there was no 
redeeming value to the woman.
     It never occurred to Bethany that Rod wouldn't agree when she voiced her 
thoughts in their bedroom.
     "What right do you have to say that about my sister?" His expression 
matched the infuriated tone of his voice.
     The grip Bethany had on her brush slackened, and it fell to the table with 
a loud crack. Rod had never been mad at her, never raised his voice. It 
frightened her.
     "You don't know anything about her, except what I told you. I didn't insult 
your brother when he was acting like a jerk about us. Maybe I should have, just 
so you'd know how it feels."
     The tension she'd been feeling between them all week exploded, and she ran 
into the connecting bathroom, locking the door so he wouldn't see her tears. 
Having him see them wouldn't have been any worse than hearing, because they 
poured forth so painfully from her chest she couldn't quiet the storm.
     She would lose him. Now she would lose him because he loved his sister more 
than he did her, though he had a funny way of showing love to his sister. He'd 
returned words to her Bethany wouldn't feel comfortable saying to a dire enemy, 
if she had one. Telling herself being jealous of his love for his sister was 
ridiculous didn't ease the pain.
     He knocked on the door, apologizing over and over, but she hardly heard 
him.
     Why did everything have to be tied into one package? Failure and success in 
this relationship involved the same things: his interest, her ability to keep 
him interested, where she lived, what she did for a living. She had no idea how 
she could keep it together if she spent all her time walking on eggshells.
     A few minutes later, Rod let himself in with a key, and she tried to calm 
herself by apologizing for what she'd said about his sister. Speaking only made 
her more upset, especially mixed with her relief when he kneeled in front of the 
toilet bowl she sat on and pulled her into his arms. "No, I'm sorry. I can't 
stand it when anybody except me insults her or hurts her. You had no way of 
knowing I'd react like a hypocrite. Men are the only ones who've ever insulted 
her before. I usually react by beating them as close to death as life will 
allow." He lifted her chin, softening noticeably more when he saw her 
tear-streaked cheeks. "I didn't scare you, did I, sweetness?"
     He had, but not because she believed he'd hit her. His fury had just come 
out of nowhere.
     "I'd never hurt you. I couldn't. I'd rather die than hurt you."
     Nodding, Bethany put her arms around him and hid her face in his shoulder. 
     "My sister's just been through a lotta tough stuff she didn't handle very 
well. I know it's hard to believe, but I just want her to be happy. I want all 
the people I love to be as happy as I am. So sometimes I have to intervene."
     At the moment, she didn't care about his sister, her problems, or his 
friends. She just wanted everything to be OK between them again. 
     The tension she'd felt all week was unfounded, she realized now. Compared 
to how close she'd been to losing him a few minutes ago, her worries in the past 
were ridiculous. But if it'd been this close once, it could be again. The more 
time they spent with each other, the more they found out about each other, the 
more likely he'd find something about her he just couldn't live with. And then 
her days were as numbered as her predecessors' had been.
         
          
     "What do you think it means if a woman starts acting weird at weird times?" 
Rod asked when Blackie tossed him a screwdriver from the rollout toolchest. 
     Rod had tried to convince himself he was imagining things. Bethany was an 
angel of sweetness whenever they were in bed, kissing, cuddling, making love. 
But other times he felt she wanted to tell him she had doubts, about him, them, 
but she didn't know how to voice them. 
     He didn't want to hear them either. With the exception of the "fight" 
they'd had last Friday, his life was perfect. To be realistic, he didn't expect 
their relationship to always be a bed of roses. They had to learn to deal with 
problems that came between them, and they had to be strong enough to face them 
instead of hiding things from each other. So, for that reason, he knew he had to 
confront her doubts if she had them. The reason he didn't want to hear them was 
because she might have already decided the course she'd take. That could mean 
she would leave him, and he already knew he couldn't take that. Obviously the 
gifts weren't working to convince her she'd never want for anything if she 
stayed with him.
     Jon glanced up from the carburetor he was installing on a Honda V-45 Magna. 
"Like when?"
     "Like anytime we're not. . ."
     "So, the sex is still good?" Jon said. 
     "Sex and snuggling, yeah."
     "Snuggling?" Blackie muttered under his breath from the worktable. 
     Rod was above embarrassment in this. Guys always made the snuggling part 
sound unmanly if they allowed themselves to indulge in it, but they enjoyed it 
as much, or more, than women.
     Blackie turned to Rod. "You got a problem, man, cuz it can only be one of 
two things. Might even be both. That lady wants to put you in a collar, and she 
wants the dirty lowdown."
     "Marriage, and 'Oh, Bethany darling, I love you oh-so-much,'" Jon teased, 
making kissing noises.
     Rod stared at them, dumfounded. It couldn't be that simple, could it? He 
hadn't told her the exact words "I love you" because they'd become a cliché and 
a cure-all. In every other way there was to tell her how he felt about her, he 
had, but if she needed those exact words he would make them new for her. 
     "Man, I thought she wanted out and didn't know how to say it!" The relief 
was so overwhelming, he started laughing.
     "So, you're gonna do it?"
     Rod stood up, flinging his arms around Blackie simply because he was nearby 
and standing. Blackie shoved him away immediately, which didn't phase Rod in the 
least.
     "Are you kidding? I'm gonna do it tonight!"
     "You don't wanna do this kinda thing spur-of-the-moment. Wait'll this 
weekend," Jon advised. "Or next weekend."
     Everyone who knew a little something about Rod Summers knew his answer. "I 
can't wait that long. It'll have to be this weekend. In Milwaukee. The finest 
hotel, room service, and then the rings." 
     All his life he'd been told (and been self-aware) he rushed into things. He 
hadn't wanted to rush Bethany since it'd only been a month and she might not 
trust him a hundred percent yet. When they married, he didn't want her to have 
any doubt he was a one-woman man, for now and for ever.
     As he headed for his car and the nearest jewelry shop, he heard Blackie 
ask, "You think he's really gonna do it?"
     "You know something?" Jon said after half a minute. "I think he's just wild 
and crazy enough to go through with it."
         
          
     Rod was acting very strange.
     It all started yesterday. When she stopped at Rod's shop to pick him up 
after work, something they'd been doing "routinely", Jon told her Rod had gone 
"rock hunting" and would meet her at the house later. Blackie had smiled for 
some reason, something she'd never seen him do, and though she didn't know him 
very well she suspected he didn't do it often. Maybe that smile disarmed her 
enough to ask what in the world Rod was doing rock hunting this time of year. 
Jon laughed so hard, she was embarrassed. Blackie said something soothing to 
her, as if afraid she'd burst into tears. Then Jon hugged her in a brotherly way 
that made her feel warm and special instead of silly.
     Realizing how much she'd come to like Jon and Blackie, she'd invited them 
to dinner. They'd agreed with the speed of a king cobra striking. Rod had come 
home less than fifteen minutes after the three of them arrived in her car. He'd 
grabbed her right in front of his friends and kissed her until she warred with 
herself to stay embarrassed instead of aroused. He'd told her Jon was kidding 
about the rock hunting; the flowers he had in hand were what he'd left to get.
     The next day, Saturday, he took her to Milwaukee, surprising her with the 
expensive hotel they checked into and the posh suite. As luxurious as the place 
was, she couldn't help suspecting it was all part of Rod's preparations to give 
her the boot. In style.
     Would her clothes and toiletry be left in a room in Rod's house when it was 
over, the way Nicole Martini's things had been? she wondered. Her mind kept 
focusing on that closet. That open closet filled with clothes had somehow become 
a testimony to abruptness. To a messy break Bethany didn't think she could face.
     This was it, she concluded that evening in the bathroom as she dressed in 
the exquisite gown Rod had just given her. The send-off he'd given his old 
girlfriends. Romantic dinner and romantic gifts would be followed by romantic 
lovemaking. And then it would be over. Her clothes would remain in his closet 
since the pain wouldn't allow her to return to a place that felt like home 
because he was there.
     That middle ground between night and day couldn't last, and she couldn't 
fight the dawn. The only thing she could do was try to burn herself into his 
memory. No one else would ever love him better than she did.
     Rod crossed the room to her, dressed in a full tuxedo. Thinking he'd worn a 
shirt just for her made her want to laugh. Or cry. 
     His gaze swept over her as if he couldn't get enough--something she hoped 
he never would. "You're exquisite."
     He kissed her, and she put every part of herself into returning his ardor. 
It might be the last time she was with him. She wanted it to begin without delay 
in that case. 
     "I promised I'd do this right. And that means sticking to the plan," he 
said, abruptly letting her go.
     The plan? He admitted he'd planned their breakup? Bethany didn't know if 
she should be grateful for his honesty, or if she should burst into tears the 
way she wanted to.
     They sat down to eat the romantic dinner that had looked too beautiful to 
eat before. Every mouthful almost choked her. She had no appetite, no ability to 
enjoy, and listening to Rod talk was more painful than a knife through the 
heart. For the rest of her life, she wanted to listen to that voice, and she 
didn't think she could face the emptiness if it wasn't there.
     Suppressing the riot of emotions in her heart, head and body was almost 
impossible. She realized that, even if she wasn't what he wanted or needed in 
every way imaginable, he was the man of her dreams. At the same time he broke 
her heart, he would fulfill all of her fantasies--the way borrowed dreams always 
did.
     When they made love, she had no inhibitions, no shyness. In the moments 
that followed, both of them acknowledged, with a wordless glance, their 
negligence with birth control. Bethany had no regrets. She even smiled 
impudently at him. This had been for her, her plan, and he couldn't change it 
even if he wanted to. 
     That control made her feel so good, she wanted more of it. If it was over, 
then she wanted some say in it. She didn't want to be the shy little kitten who 
nodded complacently at what was fated to her.
     Whatever Rod's intentions, when he shifted as if to move or look away from 
her, she locked her arms around his neck. He stared down at her as if he 
couldn't believe her boldness.
     "I know it's over for you, Rod, but I want you to remember until the day 
you die who loved you this good and this much."
     When he continued to stare at her in confusion, she added, "I'll leave 
whenever you want me to. Now or never."
     Those words were the last of her strength. When Rod pulled back out of her 
arms, she couldn't hold him. He sat there at the end of the bed on his knees, 
looking as if she'd slapped him or told him she was a Martian.
     Without warning, he turned and picked up the tuxedo jacket. He rooted 
through the pockets until he came out with a ring box. Then he reached over the 
bed and took her hand to press the box into it. "This is how soon I want you to 
leave me. Never."
     Bethany lifted her gaze to see him get up and yank on the tuxedo trousers. 
He was furious, that much was obvious.
     With a lump in her throat, she opened the box to find two rings. And then 
nothing made sense.
     He was across the room, as if he needed the distance, staring at her 
wildly.
     "What is this?" she asked in a voice she didn't trust to remain steady.
     "It's what I thought you wanted. What I wanted. I thought that was why you 
were acting like you were waiting for a bomb to explode." He threw his hands up, 
as though another thought occurred to him. "I can't believe you let me do 
         that. . ." He gestured toward the bed. ". . .if you thought I was gonna 
walk away when you could get pregnant."
     He'd planned this entire evening around asking her to marry him, and her 
shame only got worse when he said in a small voice, "You don't think very much 
of me, do you, Bethany Briggs?"
     She couldn't get herself out of this with tears, no matter how tempting. 
     "What made you think I'd go to such elaborate lengths to tell you to go to 
hell? I don't know anybody who stages a kiss-off on this scale."
     He moved across the room again, but she couldn't face him when she repeated 
all she'd heard from his old girlfriends.
     "OK, you know it, I know it, everybody knows it," he shouted as if he was 
on a rooftop. "I'm a bastard. Always have been, always will be." He came over to 
her, his face only inches from hers. "I'm not the difference here, sweetness. 
You are. You never needed to prove yourself to me, the way I tried to prove 
myself to you. I knew you were gonna be the difference in my life the second I 
laid eyes on you. I love you. You love me like no one else ever has. I wanna be 
with you for the rest of my life."
     He kneeled in front of her again, and her tears came. She knew now that his 
frequent past relationships were about love--love he was looking for and had 
never found, until now.
     Setting the open box on the bed, she slid off the edge to kneel with him on 
the carpet. "I'm sorry. You're everything to me. . . When everybody kept telling 
me how different we were I knew we didn't belong together, no matter how much I 
don't want it to be true. But I love you so much, I don't care as long as you 
don't."
     For a minute, he just looked at her, and then he smiled a little. 
"Everybody keeps telling me we're leather and lace too. But every time I'm next 
to you. . .I'm thinking the world could use a little more fashion like us."
     When she smiled too, she laughed and cried. He loved her, and he wanted to 
marry her. 
     He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. "Oh, Bethany, don't 
ever leave me. Let the whole world say what they will, but stay with me forever. 
Marry me, and let's have babies together. At least one boy and one girl."
     He was that sweet and sexy man-child that she'd always been afraid to 
believe was real, had always been afraid wasn't real. Because it would mean 
either she was the same as all the other women he'd called "baby" or she was so 
different he couldn't love her.
     Taking the box from the bed, he pulled out the smaller ring and slid it 
onto her finger. "Say yes, Bethany."
     With tears in her eyes, she saw that she had truly tamed the wild man. He 
was all hers, and that was all she'd ever need to know.
     Taking the other ring from the box, she put it on his finger. "Yes. My 
answer to you will always be yes."