THE DRAGON'S WOMAN

by

Amy Talbot

Copyright ã Kathryn Taylor 1999
ISBN 1-58608-136-5
Rocket Edition 1-58608-238-8
Cover Art by Eliza Black
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Unfailing Love

Unfailing love, it fills the earth,
No error and no end.
Unfading, ever faithful love
Since time began, you send.
Not sighing love or feigning,
Not sweeping hearts away,
To later leave them broken
On some less fervent day.
Not fierce love, consuming,
Overpowering or restricting,
But gentle, constant, drawing,
Healing every dark affliction.
Not love with preconditions,
Not loyalty from fear,
But compassion, even sacrifice,
And comfort always near.
Not love with selfish motive,
Which one day disappears,
But deepest heartache over us
That does not change with years.
Unfailing love at countless cost,
His rightful wrath restraining,
That each of us may choose one love
Beyond all else remaining.

from Jars of Clay
Copyright ã Sue McNaughton 1997
ISBN 0 473 04770 5
- published with permission -

CHAPTER ONE

God sends angels to guard and guide us.

(Exodus 23 verses: 20-26)

As she marched in an unswerving line through Christchurch’s picturesque Cathedral Square, the crowd of pedestrians parted before Brianna Alexander, in much the same way the waters of the Red Sea had moved aside for Moses. Many of the women she left in her wake followed her undeniably pure-bred passing with envious eyes. To them, Brianna in her Chanel suit and Gucci accessories, appeared chic and deceptively cool. They fanned themselves with crumpled handkerchiefs and went about their leisurely business.

Nearing the perimeter of Cathedral Square, Brianna glanced across to the bus ramp, sited on the far side of the circular road. The Big Red Bus she had intended taking was already boarding and a sliver of annoyance ruffled her habitual poise. Was it too much to expect that on this one day she had to take a bus instead of using her own car, it would wait for her?

Acting completely out of character, she took what she supposed to be a shortcut and edged between a pair of high-sided planter boxes. As fate would have it, the intertwined grape ivy was recently watered and the cobbled stones around the base of the boxes were treacherously wet. Feeling her feet slide, Brianna made an instinctive grab for the rim of the box. She twisted awkwardly and slammed knees first into the box's unyielding concrete side. Shaken by the impact, she gingerly bent to inspect the damage. Half-expecting blood, instead her probing fingers encountered something repulsively unexpected.

'Oh my goodness!'

As artfully as any seasoned front row performer, Brianna kicked her right leg up and outward. Frantically, she dislodged the grotesque spider that clung like a burr to her ultra sheer panty-hose. The eight-legged beastie went spinning through the air, along with her best tan shoe. As if by magic, the three inches of spiked heel transformed into a cunning approximation of a heat-seeking missile, unerringly arching toward an unsuspecting male bystander.

Too late, Brianna shouted, 'Look out!' before she clamped her hands over her eyes. What she could not see, she heard - his sharp expletive intermingled with an agonized groan. Cautiously, she lowered her hands far enough to cover her mouth. The stranger limped toward her, his large hands clasped protectively over his denim-covered groin.

'Oh, dear.'

'Oh, dear! Is that all you can say for yourself?’ he managed through gritted teeth.

'I am terribly sorry.' Whether from nervousness or fear, she began to giggle.

Jesse Lawless was not a man who took kindly to being the brunt of anyone's laughter. Especially when he was the injured party. He gave a low growl of reactive fury. ‘Hey, babe! This is no damned laughing matter, so you can quit that right now. I've a good mind to have you arrested.'

Beneath the bluster, he was suffering a thousand little deaths, and it took all his control not to down his denims and inspect for damage. When her calling card had hit him fore square, it had felt as though he had lost years off his reproductive life span. His mouth dried up, and his palms grew damp recalling the moment.

Injuries like this were enough to make a grown man cry.

As he glowered down at her, tempted to throttle the woman by way of retribution, he was struck by an indefinable quality about her that stopped him in his tracks. Not her looks, which were nice but not outstanding. Although, to be fair, the faint outline of freckles on her turned-up nose and the wide, full-lipped mouth made her cute enough to cuddle. It was a pity that she'd screwed her hair into that tight, unbecoming twist. The color was a rich brown, reminding him of sun-ripened coffee beans. He fancied that when she let her hair loose, it would fluff around her face in a riot of curls. The sort of curls that would look fabulous spread out on a pillow.

His pillow.

He was being fanciful, he knew, but she seemed to radiate an aura of serenity. Innocence, almost. As much as he tried to shake the idea, especially given the way she had pressed her unsolicited attention upon him, the illusion stuck, and he envied her for it. Purity and goodness were incongruous commodities in the world he inhabited.

Above all, it was her eyes that captured him. Gaelic eyes; her finest feature.

Outlined by arched brows and a tangle of dark lashes, they laughed at him. He felt their lure, as if they were tempting him to sink down into their depths. It had been a long, long time since he had been able to laugh at himself, or at anything else for that matter. For an instant he struggled with an almost irresistible urge to touch her face.

But he didn't.

Women like her weren't for men like him.

Everything about her was understated and obviously of the highest quality. She had style and class, a combination that spelled out a message even a blind man could read. She was off-limits.

Besides, he rationalized, no matter how sweet and innocent she may appear outwardly, it was obvious from her behavior that she was another star struck fan looking for a cheap thrill at his expense. Surprisingly, the stab of disappointment cut deep. Just once, he thought, in part a wish, in part a prayer, he would like to find a woman who wanted him for himself alone and not for his fame or notoriety.

He harnessed the drift of these dangerous longings.

The last thing he needed was to come down with a bad case of the hots for some dolly, no matter how soft and feminine she seemed. That she had wormed her way under his skin in a matter of a few short, painful minutes irritated the hell out of him. The past eighteen months had been tough, but thankfully the nightmarish indictment and the long legal process to prove his innocence were behind him. He had tried to bury the bitter memories in exhaustive eighteen-hour days, working with the guys in his band to get their tour ready for the road. They’d been traveling now for four months. With the end of the tour in sight, he had little energy left for romance before he returned Stateside to take up another lucrative film contract. He couldn't afford to let himself be distracted. A man could lose a whole lot of sleep, among other things, when he let a woman lead him around by his dangly bits.

‘Are you some kind of loony!'

The timbre of his voice was pitched low, spiked with a husky American accent that hinted of the Deep South, of hot sun and the taste of ice-cooled mint juleps. As he loomed over her, Brianna found herself captured by a pair of glaring, smoky brown eyes.

Not brown, she corrected as her mind registered a rapid jumble of impressions. The color was more a polished bronze, the depths flecked with points of darker gold.

Dragon's eyes, she fancied. Wild and fierce.

Easily topping six feet, for a man she guessed to be in his early thirties, he was in peak physical condition with wide shoulders and well-defined muscles. He was dressed in a T-shirt that may have once been khaki but was washed to a muddy shade, the sleeves torn out and frayed. His faded denim jeans were too tight in all the wrong places, and his boots so dusty they lacked any semblance of a shine. A twisted black bandanna anchored his thick, blue-black hair back from his forehead. Contrary to fashion, it flowed unfettered around his shoulders.

Taken one by one, there was nothing conventionally handsome about his features, with a strongly defined nose, slightly crooked at the bridge, and a squared off cleft chin shadowed by a dark stubble. He radiated a raw virility and power that warned her he was definitely a man not to be tangled with. This, coupled with the small golden ring that pierced one ear lobe, contributed to a ruggedly masculine image.

One that reminded her of a latter day pirate.

Inexplicably, Brianna felt as if she were his next victim, and the bubble of laughter strangled in her throat. He angled his head down low, and her startled gaze clashed with the rapier stab of his angry eyes. With his lips drawn back from bared teeth, he looked as though he was grinding a pip between his sharp incisors.

Or her!

'I shouldn't have laughed.'

'No!'

'It must have been.…' She swallowed. 'Painful.'

'Yes!'

'I'm really very sorry. I had a spider on my leg.'

'Spider!' Intense emotion sharpened Jesse’s eyes to pin points of glittering gold, leaving her in little doubt as to what he'd like to do to her. He turned and limped back across the cobbles, bending to pick up her shoe. 'Don't try and feed me that line, lady. This doesn't look like a spider to me. You could have injured me for life.' Seeing the twitch of her lips, he waved her shoe under her nose threateningly. 'And don't you dare start laughing again.'

‘It was an accident, for goodness sake. Any rational being would have known that.’ After all, what person in their right mind would prowl the inner-city streets looking for someone to maim with the pointy end of a high-heeled shoe? 'If you'd just control yourself, I can explain everything.'

'You'll explain all right, and it had better be good.' Almost wishing he had gone with his first instinct and had his hands around her neck, he tightened his hand around the elegant shoe. As easily as though crafted in spun glass, the thin spiked heel snapped with a muted crack.

Brianna shafted an incredulous look from the broken heel to his chiseled features. Too late, she remembered that in fairy stories dragons ate their victims for supper.

‘You had no call doing that.’ She began to back away, deciding that she was not going to stick around to let him make a meal out of her.

Jesse moved with incredible agility for a man sporting an injury in his unmentionables. His hand snaked out, gripping her upper arm. 'I'm sorry, okay!' He hesitated, then said less forcefully, 'I didn't intend for that to happen.'

In all her years, Brianna had never encountered a man who treated her in such a cavalier manner, and she wasn't sure whether she was to be commiserated or congratulated. 'Let go of my arm.'

Although he loosened his grasp, he didn't release her entirely. 'I'll let you go if you'll stay put.'

'All right, I suppose I owe you that much,' she conceded, not trying to disguise her reluctance. She thrust out her hand. 'May I have my shoe back?' For half a second, she thought she detected a hint of discomfort in his eyes as he handed back her damaged footwear, but immediately dismissed it as a flight of fantasy.

'I'll buy you another pair.'

He may as well have been offering to buy her the moon as far as she was concerned. In the space of a few short minutes, this man had begun to represent a serious threat to her well-ordered existence. 'It's okay. Forget it.' She slipped the broken shoe back on her foot, wobbling precariously on the uneven heels.

As he watched her prepare to make an exit, an emotionally intense feeling struck Jesse’s mid-section. No matter how urgent his business, he wanted her, and he was a man used to taking whatever he wanted, damning the consequences.

'Come and sit down.' Without her consent, he took hold of her elbow and hustled her onto a wooden bench positioned beneath the spreading canopy of an ancient chestnut tree. 'Hey, darlin.' It amused Jesse to see her sitting rigidly on the edge of her seat, her mouth scrunched up into a prune of disapproval. He jiggled her arm like an on-off switch. 'Are you just going to sit there and sulk all day?'

Brianna held back an angry retort that trembled on the tip of her tongue. He may be uncouth, but she was determined not sink to his level. The sound of his throaty chuckle was the last thing she expected.

'Would you accept an apology from a pig-headed idiot?'

'It was my fault really,' she offered in huffy conciliation. To her surprise, he reached for her hand and held it. His touch was hard and warm, pin-pricking the surface of her skin with countless goose bumps. ‘I should have taken more care.’

'Bygones, then. What's your name, darlin'?'

She darted an agitated glance from their intertwined fingers to his face, feeling as gauche as a teenager does, all jittery and impossibly girlish. 'Brianna Alexander.'

'Brianna,' he repeated, slowly drawing a circle on her palm with the pad of a callused finger. 'Sweet and old fashioned. It suits you.'

'Thanks, I think.' She succumbed to his charm and smiled.

Chameleon like, his answering grin neatly disguised the fire of the dragon behind a contradictory mixture of devil-may-care and boy-next-door. 'We didn't get off to a very good start. Shall we begin again?'

She tongued her cheek. 'I was taught never to talk to strangers.'

'I do beg your pardon.' He raised her hand to his lips, turned it palm up, and dropped a light kiss onto the sensitive skin. She tasted like a bouquet of exotic spices. All woman, and he was hungry enough to want the whole package, not just a shop-window sample. 'Call me Jesse.'

‘Jesse?’ The name whispered against her palm, the light touch of his lips unexpected and absolutely shocking. It felt more like a brand than a caress. The glint that darkened the gold of his eyes was a little too warm and much too intimate. Wondering what she had let herself in for, she measured the distance to the nearest exit, trying to gauge whether she could safely make a run for it.

Trying to second-guess the direction of her thoughts, Jesse was hit by a stab of all-too-familiar cynicism. She may look so proper, sitting there with her hands clasped in her elegant little lap, pretending he was a total stranger, but he was wise to her act. Courtesy of the paparazzi making their fantasized version of his life story the world’s business, he had received plenty of unsolicited attention. His name had been splashed across television screens, glossy magazine pages and tabloid headlines often enough for it to have become a household word. Thanks to their cruelly microscopic attention, there was probably no place left for him to hide. If he hadn't know better, he would have been suckered into her charade of naiveté. Jesse felt her eyes on him, weighing him, and he didn't like it one bit.

It seemed as though she had gotten beneath his skin, seen right into his soul.

'Do I pass inspection?' The query was softly spoken. It feathered a shiver along her spine. Strong fingers curled around her chin and tilted it higher. 'Nice,' he said, intentionally provoking her by flicking a finger across the dusting of freckles on her nose. 'Don't they say freckles are fairy kisses? ' There was an audacious twinkle in his eyes as he studied her leisurely. ‘Lucky fairies, although you're more like a little brown pixie yourself.'

This lazy evaluation made Brianna feel far smaller than her petite five feet four inches and infinitely more vulnerable. Honesty prompted her to admit that she was no great beauty, but it hurt a little having this enigmatic stranger point out that hers was not the face that would launch a thousand ships. She attempted to tug her chin free from his restraining grip.

‘I really need to go.’

'Relax. I'm not complaining,' he told her, easily retaining possession. 'After all, it's said that good things come in small parcels. I just wonder what you're hiding behind these prissy clothes?' He indolently fingered the lapel of her five hundred-dollar linen jacket.

'What makes you think I'm hiding anything?' She slapped at his hand.

'You intrigue me, sweet pea.’ Unperturbed by her rebuff, he grazed his finger along the line of her jaw. ‘Even though you might try to look like Little Miss Prim and Proper, all dressed up in this boring suit, I know that underneath the trappings, there's a real woman fighting for freedom.'

For a second, his eyes slatted, and he seemed about to say something more but stopped himself short. Brianna felt as if the moisture in her mouth turned to sand. Hesitantly, she ran the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip, unconsciously sheening her peachy lip-gloss in a flicker of invitation.

'Mm, blue-eyes. That's definitely not playing fair.'

Before Brianna had the slightest inkling of his intentions, he leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers in a kiss that gave and claimed promises she hadn't believed were possible.

If it were possible, the walls in the chamber would have shaken, such was the force as the disembodied voice shouted: 'Emmaline, wake up.’ A clap reverberated like the toll of thunder, preceding the figure that erupted into the hall. ‘This is no time to be resting on your laurels. We have another urgent assignment.'

'Harriet, hello.' If Emmaline felt surprise at the other woman's precipitous arrival, it was not revealed in the serenity of her face. 'I was beginning to wonder what was keeping you so long.'

She lay down the quill she had been using and swiveled around on her stool, shooting a delighted smile of welcome at the new arrival. The chamber around these extraordinary beings was so impossibly immense the dimensions were incalculable. There was no electric lighting, or candles, or lamps either, and yet the place was alive with a surreal brilliance that shifted in hue through every perceivable spectrum of a rainbow. Above was darkness, the color more indigo than ebony. Suspended in this void, as if on invisible threads, a pinpoint of light sparkled, and swelling up from every direction was the sound of laughter intermingled with joyful music.

At the heart of the chamber there was a fountain so breathtakingly beautiful that, beside it, Michelangelo's magnificent statue of "Mother and Child' would appear the work of a rank amateur. Hewn from a golden stone no human sculptor had put chisel to, every surface of the fountain was adorned with intricate scroll work and set all over with rare and priceless gems. The fluted spout towered high above, so that the eye could not follow. From its beveled mouth, water, pure beyond imagining, tumbled in lively abandon to the pond below.

The very wellspring of Life.

Intent on her mission, Harriet ignored Emmaline's friendly greeting as toward this fountain she flew. 'No time for chatter,' she called across her shoulder. 'Come over here and have a look.' At her sharp gesture, the surface of the water fragmented into a million droplets, shimmied, then coalesced again to form a coruscating, mirror-like surface.

With a gentle laugh, Emmaline pushed back her stool. The iridescent wings she unfurled splayed outward until the span reached its full six-meter width. The light in the chamber caught the luminous surface of the gossamer substance with a flash of intense effulgence as she effortlessly flew to join Harriet beside the fountain's rim.

As one, they peered into the surface of the pond. Before them, in startling clarity, there appeared images of the Cathedral Square with its milling crowd. Each person was miniaturized in perfect detail.

'I see our Jesse Lawless. What's he been up to this time?'

'He asked for help, Emmaline.' Harriet's voice quivered with the force of her conviction. She indicated the tiny figure of Jesse and punched the air in a gesture of victory, accompanying the triumphant, pugilistic thrust with a full-throated shout. 'You must have heard him?

Emmaline's sigh was barely discernible. 'About time is what I say.'

'It is a beginning. When man asks, God in His infinite mercy and love answers.' Harriet's whole face took on a glow. 'The poet, Tennyson was right when he wrote "More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of".'

'He may have written it, but precious few have taken heed of his advice. Even after thousands of years, mankind still fails to comprehend the truth. As hard as they may work to achieve their dreams and ambitions, nothing of eternal value happens without asking heaven to act on behalf of earth.' Emmaline placed her hand on Harriet's wrist and gave a squeeze. 'She is a lovely girl. See how the light in her heart shines.'

Harriet peered intently at Brianna's miniaturized reflection. 'I fear her heart is untried by unfailing love.'

Emmaline tensed, and the grip she had on Harriet's wrist was punishing. Her eyes were narrow and intent, discerning more that was going on than was seen by eyesight. 'Look closer, Harriet. See the powers that seek to consume Jesse.' With an involuntary shudder, she reached out and touched the tip of her forefinger to the surface of the water. Immediately visible were ring after ring of darkness. They seethed and struggled against the close formation of attentive spirits who, with breast plate and armor gleaming, and sharpened swords in outstretched hands, hovered unseen and unheralded in close protective formation around the couple.

'The dark side does not own him entirely,’ Harriet gave an adamant uplift of her chin, indicating the single glimmer of light that pulsed in the depths of Jesse's human heart. 'Nor will it. Jesse has stood against situations difficult enough to have destroyed lesser humans, and he has almost given up.' Then she grinned hugely. 'But today, he has asked for our help.'

'Harriet, Harriet.' Emmaline shook her head from side to side. 'You humble me.' She bent closer and examined the pulsating light. 'This boy has drunk from the devil's cup, and the poison runs deep. It must have cost our army dearly to hold their positions against such violent opposition.'

‘I agree. Winning him back will not be easy.’

Deep in thought Emmaline nodded without raising her eyes. After a time, she straightened and asked in a newly determined manner, 'What is required of us?'

'We are to kick butt.' She pretended to push up her sleeves, further embellishing her answer by spitting on both hands. Uttering a warlike shout, she thrust out her foot in a parody of a high karate kick. Only Emmaline's quick action saved her from an ignominious dunking as she lost her balance and toppled forward. Not at all put out, Harriet grinned her thanks. 'Because of some fancy footwork, engineered on their behalf by others of our brethren, Jesse and Brianna have met. Our instructions are to stick close to Brianna and give her any assistance needed. You know these humans….' She gave a fatalistic shrug that ruffled her plumage. ‘Our friend Cupid's sharp arrows have done their deed. Unfortunately, people do tend to muddle the order of things. Without our, er ... qualified assistance, they may well ruin the entire plan altogether.'

'Kick butt indeed! Honestly, Harriet, your vocabulary leaves much to be desired.' She tapped her front teeth with a long tapering finger as she evaluated the situation. 'This will be no easy battle to win. Jesse Lawless has quite a past and little reason to trust heaven. His heart has been deeply wounded.'

'But Emmaline, you forget.' Harriet reached across and grasped her angelic friend's arm. ‘There is unfailing love to call upon.'

'How right you are, good friend.’ She lifted the hem of her skirts above her knees and set a foot shod in a silvery sandal on the rim of the pond. Up she stepped, foot poised over the crystalline water. ‘Only the power of unfailing love can break the bonds that tie Jesse to the dark side. Let's be on our way. These young people need the help of their guardian angels.' 'Ah, Emmy.' Contrary to all her earlier enthusiasm, Harriet inexplicably hung back. 'Patrick is coming along, as well.'

'Patrick!' As though she'd been stung on her regal, celestial butt by a hive of angry hornets, Emmaline jumped back from the edge of the pool in an indignant swirl of wings. ‘Why didn't you warn me sooner?'

'Come on now, Emmaline, give the boy some credit. It was his idea about the shoe incident that brought Jesse and Brianna together.'

'Don't try and kid a kidder, friend.' She rustled the pristine folds of her gown. 'If I'm not mistaken, had that shoe been one inch lower, Jesse Lawless might well be singing soprano.'

'You do carry on so.’ Harriet clicked her tongue reprovingly. ‘He may have made a few mistakes in the past, but, from all accounts, Patrick has a good heart. He is eager to learn, and he just needs time to adjust.'

'Correct me if I'm wrong, but the last assignment Patrick was given was tenor in the massed choir, right?'

Knowing where this was leading, Harriet closed her eyes and nodded.

'Where, after a few days of singing harmony, he decided that the celestial voices needed to upmarket their image, and he set about teaching them an earthly tune. If my memory serves me, the song went something like, "You ain't nothin' but a hound dog".'

‘The Master found it all very amusing.'

'Amusing enough to give him an assignment with the Away Team, where he took it upon himself to scatter thistle seed and ivy shoots across the entire surface of a newly terraformed planet in the Snytheos Region.'

'Scottish thistles, Emmaline,' Harriet supplied with a weak snigger. 'They were very pretty.'

'The Ivy was poisonous! It took months for the rest of the squad to undo the ecological damage he had caused. Who needs a serpent when you have Patrick to lend a helping hand in the garden? Next, he did a stint with the stork division.' She paused to draw breath, ticking the items off one by one on her fingers. 'Do you know how many multiple births were recorded that year? After that….'

'I know. I know.' Harriet held up her hand. 'Patrick may have an unusual operational style, but you have to admit he is so sweet.'

'You're clearly delusional. He's a walking disaster area.'

'Well, he's ours.' Harriet jerked her thumb heavenward. 'Orders from above.' She gave Emmaline a push in the small of her back, propelling her forward. 'So, stop grumbling, Emm. If by some chance he makes a muddle, then we can put it in our report when we've finished the job and send it to the Archangel.' Not giving her further time to protest Harriet linked her arm through Emmaline's and stepped onto the pool's slick rim, taking the grumbling Emmaline with her.
CHAPTER TWO

Even as she tasted him, responded to the feel and smell and heat of him until the blood raced along her fragile veins, a memory of who and where she was strove for control.

Brianna thrust herself out of his embrace. She dashed the back of her hand over her mouth, trying in vain to scrub the lingering imprint of his mouth.

Everything about this man was rapidly going from unbelievable to unrepeatable.

'This is insane.' To her ears, her protest sounded like a strangled bleat. 'You had no call doing that.'

‘We have hardly broken one of the cardinal virtues.'

Her eyes flashed blue fire. 'You are the most arrogant, egotistical...'

'Sonofabit¾.'

Brianna felt her cheeks redden. ‘Yes!'

'Yeah. So?'

It hung between them. A dare almost. Good manners, an expensive education at a church based school, and generations of breeding dissipated on the wind. Uncertainty and a flicker of anger tinged her voice to the point of rudeness.

'So, mister.' She stabbed a finger at his macho chest in emphasis. 'You may get your kicks this way, but I don't.' Incensed, she plowed a hand across her thick glossy curls, further loosening the chignon into riotous disorder. 'Just let me up, will you.'

'Do you usually go to such lengths to get a man's attention?' His smile gave him the look of an ungovernable tomcat contemplating a brimming saucer of forbidden cream.

'I've already told you it was a mistake.'

Tired of being the brunt of this man's humor, she jerked away and sprang to her feet. It was the wrong move and inadvertently she placed her full weight on the broken shoe, tumbling right back into the waiting arms of the enemy. Seasoned soldier that he was, Jesse was quick to capitalize, tightening his hold.

‘I’ll let you up if you promise me something.'

'All right,' she agreed with a recklessness she regretted instantly. ‘I promise.’ She gritted her teeth, half-dreading what he might ask. 'What do you want?'

'Come out with me tonight.'

'Whoopee!'

Harriet nudged the angel standing at her side with her elbow. 'You arrived just in time, Patrick. Will you look at those two bond.’ She tilted her head to one side in order to get a better view. 'He's good at that, I must say. By now, I'd guess that Brianna is having holes scorched through her pantyhose.'

Patrick cleared his throat and ventured tentatively, 'Won't that make our task all the harder?'

‘This is all part of the birds and the bees. Natural sexual magnetism.'

'It's a fast track into Jesse’s king-size bed!' Emmaline shot back.

'Now there's a thought,' Harriet laughed, her grin stretching from ear to ear

'Harriet!'

‘I’m just kidding. You worry too much. I’m thinking that Brianna will give Jesse a run for his money. They're clay and steel. It never pays to underestimate the quiet ones.'

This was absurd. They had about as much in common as a ravening lion lying down with a new born lamb!

'You're not serious?'

'The way I see it, you owe me.' His lips thinned into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 'Now is your chance to make amends.'

His close proximity, the warmth of his hands, the lingering taste of his lips caused her heart to beat as frantically as the wings of a trapped bird. This golden-eyed stranger had touched fire to a place deep inside her, drawing her irresistibly to its heat.

'Why?'

'Call it following a whim that we both want to pursue. Ah, uh,' he cautioned and his finger against her lips stilled any denial. 'It's in your eyes, sweetheart, so save your breath.'

It wasn't easy ignoring the heat that raced down her neck and beaded perspiration over her skin.

Or to deny the truth.

Being with him gave her a heady feeling, as though she was teetering on the brink of an abyss. For a woman who actively avoided making split second decisions, she made this one on sheer adrenaline alone, promising herself the luxury of thinking about it later and she signaled her assent with a sharp nod.

'I'll come. But dinner only. Nothing else.'

He smiled his triumph as he lifted her off his lap and set her back on the seat. Although he hid it well, the kiss had left him hurting for more. Right along, all he had planned to do was to string the woman along a little, see what made her tick. He’d have a little fun, straight and simple, no ties, no regrets. But she had tasted so sweet, like a bite of the forbidden fruit, and now he had a yearning for much more.

'Now we've got those little details taken care of, why don't I take you for a coffee or something?' He turned his head and winked openly at the trio who had seated themselves opposite. Preoccupied as he had been getting a rise out of Brianna, a part of Jesse had been aware of other people coming and going around them. Presided over by the lofty spire of the century old neo-Gothic Church, the Cathedral Square was a favourite gathering place for visitors and locals alike. Buskers in bright coloured clothing entertained onlookers alongside kiosks touting a range of exotic cuisine, tempting him to linger. He didn’t mind the activity, after all he knew the best place for him to hide had been in a crowd, as long as no one was tempted into lingering around him, which was why he now eyed the trio with caution. Two of them, both middle-aged women, were dressed in something he thought resembled flowing white choir gowns. Maybe they were choristers from the Cathedral Choir taking a break? Whatever. Their appearance didn't faze him particularly. After all, he'd lived in New York and Los Angles, where weird was the norm. There wasn’t much he couldn’t handle, but the weedy individual wedged between the women was another matter. He wasn't keen about being eyed up by a man dressed in a party frock.

'Let's go somewhere more private.'

Following the direction of his glance, Brianna grew uncomfortable beneath the open scrutiny of the three rather individual characters seated opposite. Nervously, she shifted her eyes to the side, to the cobblestones, then back again, only to find their seat impossibly empty.

Poof! They had all disappeared.

For all that Brianna and Jesse could no longer see them, the Angels had no such difficulty.

Invisibility was just one trick of their particular celestial trade.

The reason for their sudden disappearing act was the chilling appearance of the visitor. There was a malevolence about its still form that bled despair, touching all that was good with its abominable existence. It stood far enough beneath the shade of a chestnut so that its form was disguised in the shadow. Like all of its kind, the was vaguely human, more illusion than truth. Apart from the Angels, whose eyes were not closed to the existence of such obscenity, no one in the vicinity was aware that of its presence.

Evil, as always, chose to hide, to wait, to feed the hunger of its destructive purpose.

The demon turned and studied the angels. Its non-human face was expressionless; its pupil-less eyes washed of all colors. 'Why don't you give up now, before I am forced to destroy you?'

Harriet surged to her feet and would have been on it, had it not been for Emmaline's restraining hand holding her back. No less repulsed, Emmaline felt its corrupted passion for destruction momentarily envelope her in a red-hazed cocoon into which it fed its legacy of intolerance, hatred and greed.

'Legion,' she challenged, for that was it’s name as well as it’s power. This was no single entity of evil. It was many, banded together as one. She shuddered as she felt the inhumanity of its touch. ‘You have no place here.'

'I have come for the man.' A wheedling note oiled its voice. ‘Is not his life past redemption?'

Harriet took another threatening step forward. Light swelled outward from her in blinding clarity. 'It is written that there is nothing said or done that cannot be forgiven by our Master, Holy is His name. The host of Heaven will not deliver this man to your kind.'

The intruder lifted a hand to shade its face, momentarily blinded by the brilliance.. ‘You know the rules. He has freely taken coin from the one we serve, and is ours. If you do not willingly give him up to us, we will destroy them both.' The laugh the demon barked was harsh. 'Do you think that this woman will be able to turn him from us to the light? What they share is carnal, nothing more. She will be no match against our combined forces.' It smacked one fist into the other, its face undergoing a frightening transformation, revealing in that moment, the loathsome depths of its twisted character. 'We will crush her and take back that which is ours by right of conquest,' it spat out as invective. 'The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life are our weapons and they will bind him to our kingdom for all eternity. We are wise to your meddling ways.' It laughed again, a sound completely devoid of mirth. 'You seek to guide her. Well then, I will feed his lust, stoking his sexual drive until he will be made mad for her. Driven by desire, he will batter down her puny resistance and despoil her innocence, and then he will leave. Wait and see how well your darling will fare when she finds out that what ends this man is willing to go to fulfill his passions and that he has already ruined the life of one woman and tainted many more. She will despise both him and herself. She is weak. When we are through with her, she will crumble and fail, just as all her kind fail.' The demon hissed. ‘Let the fight begin.'

Harriet flung back her head and laughed in the face of evil. ‘Success or failure, our Master will not abandon either to your kind. We will fight you on their behalf, again and again, as we have done since time's dawn.' Harriet lifted an arm and pointed. 'Begone!'

It cowered, became plaintive. 'Come now,' it said. 'Let us bargain. Give us the man and in return, we will leave the woman untouched.’

'You have nothing to offer that has not been rejected. We will not rest until he has his freedom.' Energy, pure and undefiled, hit the demon mid-chest, propelling him from his hiding place and into a distant realm. She knew that at best this would only gain them a temporary respite. ‘Come,’ she said to her companions. ‘As Legion correctly stated, the battle for love begins.’

Brianna blinked again as light refracted off the empty surface of the bench seat and hurt her eyes. Perhaps she was dreaming and those people had been visionary?

Was Jesse also a figment of an over active imagination?

She'd have been tempted to pinch him if she hadn't been sure of his reaction. 'Do you think I might disappear?

'You'll never escape me, Brianna. Where were you going before you lost your shoe?'

‘Home.'

'Do you have a car in town?'

'It needed some minor repair work and I left it at the garage for the day. I was going to take a bus.’

'There you are, then.' He lifted his hand and turned it palm upward in a gesture of dismissal. 'You can hardly hobble around the city with your shoe like that. I'll take good care of you.'

Brianna had a strong presentiment of what his idea of taking care of her would be. 'I don't want to put you to any trouble.'

‘You’re no trouble to me.’ Insouciant of her half-hearted objections, he pulled her to her feet. Unceremoniously, he bent and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her as easily as though she weighed no more than a child did.

'Put me down this instant.' Surprise pushed her voice up to an indignant squeak. A light breeze caught the ends of his hair, feathering some of the strands across her face, trailing fire. This close, Brianna's nostrils were assailed by the heady blend of musk and male. Her stomach turned somersaults and it took an enormous effort of will not to bury her face in his neck and inhale deeply. After a few electric seconds he complied, lowering her until her toes just touched the pavement.

‘Better now?’

She felt her skirt ride up the back of her thighs as he supported her weight. Tipped off balance, she landed against the hard muscular wall of his chest. There was a dangerous glitter in his eyes that warned her again that she didn't know anything about this man and would be wise not to push him too far.

'Are you going to come quietly, or do I have to get physical again?'

'Are you always so imperious?'

'Only when necessary, darlin'.' The silk in his trans-Atlantic intonation was reminiscent of thickened cream in hot, fragrant coffee spiked with Jamaican rum. His smile was languid. 'You'd be wise to remember that.'

'There's no need to haul me behind you.'

He pinned a look of exaggerated affront to his face. 'I'm only trying to be friendly.'

She glanced over her shoulder, drawing his attention to the naked expanse of shapely thigh he was exhibiting to all and sundry. 'I don't appreciate having my underwear put on public display.' He let her go, one slow inch at a time until she was able to step back to safety and she made a show of twitching her hem line below her knees.

Jesse's easy grin dispelled her illusion of victory. It sent her a message that she had about as much chance of evading him as did a solitary sugar cube of sweetening the saltiness of the sea. With a casual hitch of his shoulders, he turned and sauntered on his way. From the tip of his dragonish mane, to scuffed boot clad toe, there was a poetry in his movement, half strut, half swagger. It conjured up for Brianna the image of a streetwise peacock, fanning his wares. However, much as she appreciated the show, she didn't like having to trail in his wake, and she dug in the heels of her raggedy tan shoes.

'If you want me to go with you,' she called out. 'Then you'll have to slow down some. I’m not going to gallop six paces behind you.'

Jesse's head whipped around, his hair slashing ebony across the hard contours of his face. He parodied a scowl, but shortened his stride, enabling Brianna to come alongside. Twenty meters further along he slowed to a halt.

'Your chariot, milady,’ he said and stepped to one side with a bow. He angled his hand towards the 1000cc twin nickel-plated engine of the lovingly customized Harley Davidson that crouched beside the pavement. Painted a metallic silver with black trim, it looked as lean and uncompromising as he was.

One of the few hard-earned privileges of fame and fortune that he claimed was being able to bring his "Fat Boy" along when he was touring. When he needed time out to clear his head, he took the bike out for a blast. It was as fast as it was smooth, fitting between his legs as surely as a thoroughbred. Or a woman. The thrill he got, barreling at full throttle down an open highway was almost orgasmic.

Brianna's mouth gaped. Only the foolhardy would risk their lives riding on that thing, and if there was one thing she had always prided herself on being, it was sane and sensible.

Until she had met him, she qualified.

'I, uh, I'm not...dressed properly.'

A knowing grin split his face, brimming with a complex combination of innocence and artfulness. 'Don't be shy. You've got great legs,' and he let his bold stare burn an explicit trail all the way to her battered heels and back.

Every inch of him looked unashamedly male.

He mesmerized her, even though the message in his eyes shouted a warning loud and clear: Danger! Approach with extreme caution. Here was a man who lived life on the knife-edge and enjoyed it, damning the consequences.

She shook her head emphatically and a curl tumbled across her eye. 'I can't,' and both of them knew it wasn't a ride on his motorbike she was refusing.

Deliberately, he dropped his voice, the pitch laden with a silken note of promise. 'Take a chance, Brianna.' He reached out to flick the curl back into place, letting his hand linger in her hair. 'What have you got to lose?'

At a guess, the least she knew she could lose to this dragon was her sanity, and the most, her virtue. Brianna read the blatant message he made no attempt to disguise and she'd need to be blind to misunderstand. He was ravenous and he was restless and raw…. A man in need of a whole lot of loving.

With Jesse, she might well find herself dealing with more trouble than a herd of bull elephants running riot through a store full of prized Lladro. Cautiously, like a doe testing the wind for danger, she took a hesitant step toward temptation. 'Okay, Easy Rider,' she said with her heart in her mouth. 'Let's get your motor running.'

'You being sassy, woman?'

'No, no.' Brianna raised her hands as if to ward him off. 'Just a joke.'

He was close enough now to touch her, but he didn't. Instead, he deliberately rested his hands each side of her on the padded leather seat and leaned in closer. She was trapped between his outstretched arms. His voice whispered across her mouth, suggesting more.

'I like it when my woman shows a little fire.'

'I am not your woman.'

'Not yet, blue-eyes.' He chuckled, his breath stirring the hair against her neck. 'But I'm working on it.' Deliberately, he shifted his hips. They touched, and the fire built between them. 'Why don't we go for a ride?'

'P..Pardon?'

He smiled, not unpleasantly. 'On the bike.' Unrepentant laughter rumbled deep in his chest. 'Your eyes are so blue they're almost purple. I wonder what color they'll be when we make love.'

'My!' Emmaline shook her head so that her curls bounced. 'That boy has a way about him.'

'Indeed.' When Harriet frowned, webs of lines traced outward from the corners of her eyes. 'He's hot on her tail, for sure. Look deep, Emm. See all that pain. Somehow, Brianna will have to find a way to let it all out and turn it into positive emotion.'

'Do you think she can handle him?'

Harriet rubbed the bridge of an extremely patrician nose as she observed the goings-on between Brianna and her dragon. 'She's a bundle of contradictions, that young woman. I believe so, as long as she can stay out of his bed long enough to gain his trust.'

Although Emmaline's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, there was a merry twinkle in her eyes. 'Just look at him now.'

'He is smoother than melted butter on a hot corn cob and just as tasty.' Harriet slapped a hand against her knee. ‘That young man is going to be pure trouble.’

‘They’ll be the making of each other,’ Patrick prophesied. ‘Absolute opposites.

Waves of shocked indignation - she hoped it was indignation, and not excitement - surged through her, making her go weak at the knees. She felt the blood drain from her face before it came flooding back in a fiery wash.

'Don't say that!'

What was it about her that stirred him so much?

He craved her.

Not just a kiss, or the touch of her hands. He wanted to be part of her, fill himself with her sweetness until she put out the dark fires that burned cold within. Stay with me, he wanted to beg. Help me. But, he'd been a man on his own for too long to trust someone, and he let nothing of what he felt show on his face.

'There's a feeling between us and I for one want to do something about it.'

Nervous now, she shied her eyes from his. He was too close to the truth and she was too close to capitulating. ‘It’s just a feeling.’

'Don't hide from it, Brianna.' Catching her chin between his fingers, he turned her head until blue and gold met, melded. 'We could make something beautiful happen between us.'

'For how long?'

'Who knows how long we'll have.' He stared at her intently. 'One day, a week, a year. However much time, we'll make it enough.'

It had been a mad dream. A tantalizing lick of the forbidden apple, but now the gates of Paradise were clanging shut in her face. It took every ounce of her resolve to hold his gaze. 'No thanks.'

'Liar.'

Brianna bridled. 'You're flattering yourself. I don't want what you are offering.'

It was a mistake to antagonize him and she knew it the instant he pulled her against him, forcing her to straddle his thigh. The spurt of passion that flared between them when he kissed her rocked the foundation of Brianna's ordered world.

Reason fled, mutual desire fueling passion. Their tongues met, tangled and she was lost again. Mouth to mouth, limb on limb.

When Jesse dragged his mouth away, his breathing was uneven and he felt perspiration bead his forehead. Just a couple of kisses and he was behaving as though she was the Home Coming Queen and he was nothing but a callow youth hot on the trail of his first lay. He stepped back hurriedly, distancing himself from her as though the touch of her seared his flesh. 'I was wrong to call you a pixie. You're a darned witch and if I don't get you out of here fast I'm going to disgrace myself.' He turned towards the motorbike and unlocked the seat casing, retrieving a pair of matt black crash helmets from the compartment beneath. 'If you're coming, put this on,' he told her without ceremony and thrust one of them at her.

Unfamiliar with the straps of the helmet, Brianna struggled to get them fastened securely under her chin. When she approached the bike, he was already mounted, firm denim clad legs straddling the seat close to the engine casing. He turned a speculative gaze on her.

'Will you be okay?' At her answering nod, he indicated the black leather pillion seat behind him with a curt inclination of his head. 'Get on then.' He pulled a pair of black rimmed Ray Ban sunglasses out of his T-shirt pocket and slid them along his nose, effectively masking the expression in his eyes.

As Brianna swung up behind him onto the pillion seat, she was acutely aware of the amount of leg she exposed to his keen gaze. Hurriedly, she tucked the soft edges of her sensible skirt firmly under her, keeping her eyes determinedly fixed on a point between his shoulder blades. The engine revved to a crescendo as he gunned the accelerator and jerked the bike off its main stand, skillfully maneuvering it amidst the steady stream of traffic. When the Harley drew up at a red stoplight, he twisted to look at her. 'I take it you've never been on a bike this size?'

She smiled a weak negative.

'Follow my lead, Brianna. I'll teach you all you need to know.' His mouth tugged at the corners with suppressed mischief. 'Where do you want to go?'

'What about an ice-cream?'

Dragon black brows tilted in disbelief. 'Why didn't I think of that? Know any place close?'

Brianna shouted out directions.

'I'll find it. You just sit tight.'

The bike accelerated and a surge of power vibrated from her head to her toes. She leaned into his back, fusing with him and followed his lead as he wove through the traffic. The feel of his body moving against hers was like an intimate duet of love. This man with no last name and the face of a pirate was racing her along a path she was increasingly helpless to resist.

CHAPTER THREE

At Brianna's insistence, Jesse brought two large cones of vanilla ice cream, liberally topped with raspberry syrup. Cone in hand, she led him on a leisurely, lop-sided stroll across the grassy expanse of Victoria Square, eventually stopping at an inviting spot on the sloping bank of the Avon River. They were secluded beneath a canopy of droopy willow fronds.

'Lovely isn't it?' She moved her arm in a wide arch, indicating the stately judicial buildings on the opposite bank of the river, their massive granite walls mellowed by the patina of age to a soft pearl. Along the perimeter pathway benign Police Officers, dressed in uniforms of Royal Blue, patrolled with measured steps. A narrow, varnished punt was passing, poled leisurely through the slow moving water by a figure uniformed in pristine white. Travel people promoting New Zealand liked to claim that Christchurch was the most English city outside of Great Britain.

Jesse dropped down beside her on the grass and removed his shades. He swept the charming scene with a cursory glance before returning to linger on her face. ‘Picture perfect.' He slid the sunglasses into his pocket.

Brianna licked her ice cream, catching the drips with her tip of her tongue. 'You're an American, aren't you?'

His face lost most of its expression. ‘Does it matter?’ The balled tissue that had been wrapped around his cone sailed past her ear, unerringly finding the wastebasket attached to a post away to her left.

'Not at all.’ A sandfly landed on the back of her hand, helping itself to some of her blue blood, a liberty for which it paid the ultimate price when she smacked it flat with her palm and flicked it's mangled remains off onto the grass. ‘ I was merely curious. Are you telling me to mind my own business, or are we going to play a guessing game?’

For a long moment he considered her beneath hooded eyes. She was a paradox, both fire and ice, and she intrigued him. 'What do you expect of me?'

'Nothing.'

'Nothing?' He couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice. At the most, he’d expected her to ask for a free ticket to his next concert or an autographed copy of his latest C.D. 'What's to know anyway? When a guy meets a pretty girl and they sit together by the river on a warm summer's day he doesn't want to swap life stories.'

'That's just a brush off.' Brianna gave his face a fleeting glance before turning away to pick a handful of tiny white daisies and absently plait the stalks into a chain. 'Besides, what do they discuss?'

Jesse cast an imploring glance at the sky. Back in his element, he reached up, caught her by the shoulder, and inexorably pulled her down until she lay beside him on the grass.

'Here, let me show you.' His voice was a purr. He removed the length of daisy chain from her unresisting fingers. The light breeze and the bike helmet had destroyed the severity of her chignon so that curls frizzed any which way in a tangled halo around her head. Jesse intertwined the delicate flower chain through the tousled mass. 'He looks deep into her beautiful blue eyes and tells her how they remind him of summer and sunshine.'

Slowly, he traced the outline of her eyebrow with the edge of his finger, his voice low and intimate….husky, almost. It sent shivers up and down Brianna's spine.

'Then he tells her that the sunlight is dancing through her hair. It smells as fresh as sun-warmed roses, and feels incredibly soft.' Jesse's long fingers tangled in her hair, burying deep as he massaged her scalp. His gaze fell to her mouth and his hands followed, his thumb tracing a feather-light movement across the pouty outline of her lower lip. He offered her a smile that beguiled her into a sense of frail security.

'If she seems to want more, then he tells her that her lips are made for kissing, ripe as a cherry,' was his whispery revelation as his head descended, obscuring the sunlight as he covered her mouth with his own.

His lips brushed over Brianna's once, then again - they were cool and moist, tasting of raspberry and a lot more beside.

Languor, like the sunshine, wrapped around Brianna. 'And then?

‘Then they kiss some more, and fall in love.’

This frisson; the spark that flared between them.

The feeling of belonging.

It felt as though she had known him for all eternity, their lives having been twined and intertwined by a will stronger than their own. Brianna knew with complete certainty that she had been born for this moment. This was the man she could either love or hate, but nothing in between.

Slowly, she shook her head, more in self-denial. 'You don't love me.'

'Fall in lust then.'

When his lips traced the jut of her chin she shuddered, melting inside like gooey honey. Desire was becoming an avaricious madness that fueled a passion she had never experienced before. An inborn feminine instinct warned her that if she encouraged him further, he would take her far beyond a kiss and she wasn't ready to go that far. Resolutely, she pushed Jesse and her regrets aside and turned her head.

'No.'

'No?' He made no effort to resist, rolling away as she struggled to sit up.

Carefully she untangled the chain of flowers from her hair and discarded them on the grass. With hands that were not quite steady, she made an effort to smooth back the confusion of her hair, fervently wishing it would be as easy to tame the disquiet in her heart.

'You're being crude.'

'Lust, love.' He shrugged. 'What's the difference? They're euphemisms for sex.'

'You can't mean that?'

'Sure.' The dragon-gold eyes took on a wary, calculating look. 'It doesn't matter what name you give it.' He stood up abruptly and reached down to pull her up beside him. 'I'll take you home.'

'That's all?'

'You want more?'

There was no doubt in Brianna’s mind. She knew the answer before he asked the question. She wanted to be with him. One moment, one day, one life-time.

Whatever time they had, she knew she would never be the same.

The Dragon had stolen her heart.

He was so different from her; expressed his thoughts in a language she would normally balk at. His attitude bordered on caveman and lacked polish or finesse. She knew she wasn’t a weak woman, willing to be manipulated by a man to do his bidding. Her strength lay beneath the calm surface.

Steel sheathed in silk.

It wasn’t her way to argue or shout. If she needed something done, she didn’t try to bully or bluster. She prided herself on behaving in a polite and mannered fashion, no matter the trial. When she encountered difficulties, she used her mind, not her temper to bring about a solution that suited all parties.

She had always liked to keep her life in control.

Until today.

What she felt for Jesse defied labels.

Being with him was endlessly exciting.

Although she would never admit it aloud, she liked the way his eyes traveled over her, imagining what lay beneath the discrete layers of designer silk. He made her feel powerful. Like a woman.

It might be a type of temporary insanity that tempted her to take this path. She didn’t know and she didn’t care. Earlier, she had taken the first, crucial step. She had ridden with the Dragon. Now, she was ready to go further and defy the consequences.. She wasn’t being seduced to follow him, although she realized that if she played his game, she’d be in danger of being seduced. Wherever he might lead her, she went with him by choice, with her eyes fully open.

'Yes.'

'Just as long as you realize this is your call, darlin'. Remember that.’

Out of nowhere, a thought cut through Brianna, sharp as the edge of jagged glass. In spite of the heat, fear sent icy fingertips up her spine and she shivered. 'I know you don’t want to talk about yourself, but I need to know one thing.’

The gold in his eyes hardened. Soft gold to hard topaz. ‘What is it?’

‘Are you married? Or seeing someone?' She had to lick her lips, suddenly feeling as nervous as a delinquent schoolgirl about to face an implacable headmistress. ‘Maybe I seem stupid for asking, but it’s important to me.’

Jesse kept his feelings locked securely away behind a bland expression. 'No, Brianna, I am my own man. No ties.' He held out his hand to her. 'Now will you come with me?'

They turned into the street in which her parent's lived and Brianna leaned forward, indicating a stone and stucco house set well back from the road and secluded by towering oak trees. Jesse negotiated the big bike before an imposing set of black wrought iron-work gates beside which ivory toned stone lions crouched, as though on guard. He cut the engine and sat in impassive silence, taking in the long driveway beyond the gates. It described a semicircle before the portico of the palatial residence surrounded by a sweep of landscaped gardens and immaculately trimmed lawns. Flowering shrubs partially screened a fenced in pool and a manicured, full sized tennis green.

Dignified yet classy.

Old money.

'Well, well.' An overlay of irony accentuated his accent. 'You should have told me you were a Princess.'

She gave him a pained look. 'I’m not.’

'Just don't expect me to compete in this league.'

'I'm not asking you to compete in anything.' She slid off the bike and wrestled with the straps of her helmet. Emboldened by the quizzical quirk of his brow, she ran the tip of her index finger down his cheek. The wiry rasp of day-old bristles tickled her skin. 'Who are you really?'

When his nostrils flared at her lazy touch and the pupils of his eyes dilated, deepening the gold to topaz, she realized it was a very dangerous step, provoking him in this game where he was a master and she a novice. She withdrew swiftly, but not fast enough. He caught her wrist, bringing her hand up to his lips. Slowly, he played his tongue across the back of her knuckles. Breath caught in Brianna's throat and her heart was pounding so frantically she was sure he could hear it.

'Jesse Lawless,' was his low reply. 'Now you know everything about me that's important, bar one.'

'One?'

Beneath his fingers he felt her pulse jump and he smiled, relishing the small taste of triumph. 'I'll save that up for tonight.' Even above the roar of the bike, she heard his mocking laughter. 'Bye, darlin'. Catch you later.' A wave, a lazy smile, and he was gone.

Familiar with her surroundings, Brianna paid them little heed as she sallied across the airy foyer as fast as a broken heel and bruised dignity would allow. In keeping with the rest of the house, the room she entered had been decorated with an eye for comfort as well as beauty. Elegance without opulence. Turkish rugs, in those quiet colours that age gracefully, hugged buffed parquet flooring. Original nineteenth-century misty mountain vistas in heavy gilded frames and romantic water colours of discriminating taste were displayed side-by-side on the silk hung walls, and the furniture was an intriguing mixture of antique and oriental. The subtle blend of potpourri and lemon-scented polish drifted on the sunlit air that flooded in through the open bay windows.

A faint expression of surprise crossed Ellen Alexander's face at her daughter's unexpected and disheveled arrival. In her mid-fifties, she was an attractive woman who possessed a classical bone structure and serenity of expression that ensured she would still be beautiful in advanced age.

'Brianna, what have you done to yourself?' Ellen set her embroidery frame in her lap, taking in at a glance the creases in Brianna's normally immaculate skirt, the straggling tendrils of hair, the broken heel and laddered pantyhose. 'You look a fright!'

'Thank you very much.' It was with a feeling of relief when Brianna slumped down onto one of the chintz covered chaise lounges and kicked off what was left of her shoes. She made a half-hearted effort to pat her curls back into what was left of her chignon before giving it up as a lost cause and freeing the whole mass with a fierce tug. Her hair tumbled down around her shoulders in a tangle of springy curls. 'This has been one of the more memorable days of my life.' Despite the grumble, a glimmer of a smile played around her generous mouth. 'I suppose you're going to nag me until I tell you all the details.'

The sharp eyes Ellen Alexander had turned upon her daughter were hued the same startling periwinkle as Brianna's. 'Did Reeverson's like your book well enough to publish?'

'They did and it was fantastic. I can't quite take it all in.'

'So, when do I get to read a copy?'

'Mum, steady on.' Brianna laughed as she held up a hand. 'The senior editor has recommended one or two changes they want me to make, but apart from those, they are set to publish it late next year. I signed the contract today, and I've even got the advance right here.' She rummaged in her handbag and withdrew a certified check, passing it across to her mother with a flourish. 'When I explained about the sequel I've begun, they were keen to draw up an extension to the contract.'

'Congratulations, darling.' Ellen glanced at the check and returned it to her daughter with a warm smile of encouragement. 'You've worked hard to get this far and you deserve all the credit.'

Retrieving the check, Brianna dropped it back into her handbag and snapped the clasp shut with a click. 'At the beginning of the year, when I had to cut short my assignment because of the wretched gastrointestinal parasite I picked up and come home from Africa, I never dreamed that I would end the year as a novice writer. Life is certainly full of surprises.'

Ellen gave a nod of ascent. 'Have you made any plans for the immediate future?'

'No, nothing I haven't already discussed with you and dad.' Feeling all edgy and out of sorts, Brianna leapt to her feet and began to pace the carpeted area in front of the marbled fireplace.

With a mother’s sure intuition, Ellen guessed that Brianna had something other than her writing on her mind. She reached for a small pair of craft scissors to snip the end of her thread. 'Is something bothering you?'

'Do you think it's possible for a person to fall in love at first sight?'

'Of course. It happens all the time.'

'I met a man today,' she announced with a touch of desperation.

Ellen's light laughter disguised her start of surprise. She made pretense of selecting another colored thread to apply to the embroidery pattern. 'Anyone your father and I know?'

'No.' Brianna threw up both hands in a dramatic fashion. 'He is...was a stranger.' She spun to face her mother. 'I know this probably sounds ridiculous, but I feel as though I've been waiting for him forever.'

'My!' Ellen managed to instill more expression in the single monosyllable than most people could in an entire paragraph. She placed a number of tiny stitches in her embroidery until she was satisfied that she had Brianna's full attention. 'What did you do?'

'I should have run.' Brianna brushed the hair back from her forehead and massaged her temples. 'He looks like a pirate, rides a huge motorbike and he had the audacity to kiss me in the middle of Cathedral Square!' Not for the first time that day, Brianna felt a blush begin to creep up her neck and turned her back so that her mother couldn't detect her discomfort. She picked up an exquisite Royal Dalton figurine from the top of the antique oak sideboard and turned it over and over with quick nervous rotations. ‘I kissed him back.'

If Brianna knew how very much Ellen wanted to stand up and cheer, she would have felt justifiably mortified. As much as she loved her daughter, Ellen was not blinded to the fact that there was an invisible aura of upper class respectability surrounding Brianna that conjured up images of girls in kilted, calf-length uniform, blazers and white blouses with starched Peter Pan collars. Perhaps this mysterious man was the one to unravel Brianna's finer feelings. One thing was certain; whatever the reason for these two meeting, no one had ever managed to stir her pragmatic daughter to such emotional heights.

Prudently keeping her own counsel, Ellen set aside her embroidery frame on a nearby table. 'Good for you.'

Ellen's misplaced enthusiasm set Brianna's teeth on edge. She replaced the fragile ornament with a thunk. 'There's more.'

'I'm all ears.'

Brianna made an exasperated noise in the back of her throat. 'Today I have practically assaulted a complete stranger, let him kiss me in the middle of a public place, ridden on his motorbike, and agreed to go out to dinner with him. And,' she waggled her finger at her mother. 'I did all of this before I even knew his surname!'

'You should have asked him in, Brianna.’ Ellen found it impossible to hold back her laughter. ‘I would like to meet him.'

'Oh, you will. I let him think that I still live here, and he'll be back to get me when we go out to dinner.' Brianna perched herself on the edge of the sofa's rolled arm. 'You don't think I'm acting like a fool, do you?'

'Out of character, perhaps, but a fool, no. Does love scare you?'

'I never thought that I would be attracted so easily. Something happened here.' She tapped her finger between her breasts. 'I didn't have time to stop and think about where it would lead. It just sort of swept me along.' Brianna made a grimace, feeling a knot tighten in the pit of her stomach. ‘Jesse and I are so different it would take a miracle for us to find some common ground.'

'Jesse. Is that your mystery-man's name?'

Brianna nodded. 'Jesse Lawless.'

The name rang a bell of recognition for Ellen. She knew she'd heard it recently in connection with something made newsworthy, but she couldn't quite place it. 'That is a difficult question for me to answer, Brianna. You know I dearly wish you lasting happiness and marriage, but you are independent and well able to make up your own mind.'

'I thought so, too, before I met Jesse. He makes me want to do crazy things.'

'Like?'

'Like daydream away an afternoon in the park making daisy chains.'

'You must have harbored dreams of romance. Most people do.'

'Of course.' Brianna fought with an instinctive rush to defend herself. 'I've read my share of romance novels and I have normal longings and desires. But I'm long past being a starry-eyed debutante that believes in Prince Charming.'

'Don't judge yourself so harshly. Falling in love is natural and to be enjoyed.'

'It's not enjoyable, Mother. It's unsettling. I have plans for my life, and being pole-axed by someone the likes of Jesse Lawless wasn't one of them.'

'Well then, you may just have to rethink those plans. At the risk of using a cliché, love is maddeningly unpredictable. Why we are attracted to a particular person in inexplicable, but it is as essential to us for living as breathing.'

'I always assumed that love would be something that grows slowly.' Brianna lifted her hand in a vague gesture. 'You meet, talk, enjoy each others company, and it leads to along a course to something permanent. .. Not a bolt out of the blue that turns your mind to mush.'

'Perhaps for most people that is true. But that is not to say that instant attraction is less than love. Whether you choose to walk away from this, or to face it, let your heart guide you. If you think Jesse is important enough, just give yourself a chance to see what might develop.'

'And then?'

Ellen twitched her shoulder in a shrug. ‘I'm not clairvoyant, but at the very least, it sounds as though you're in for some excitement.'

This prediction teased a reluctant laugh from Brianna. 'What will Dad say, do you think.'

'Ah.' Ellen's ironic exclamation was accompanied by a giggle that sounded young and feminine. 'Now, there we may have a problem. I can make a guess, but you'll have to wait and ask him yourself.' She stood and extended a well-manicured hand toward her daughter, assisting her up. 'Rest assured, I'll hide the shotgun.'

'It seems as though you have everything under control.'

'Of course, dear.' Mischief danced in her mother's eyes. I've been planning for this moment since the day you were born. Only, may I ask what you intend to tell Dale?'

Oh, heavens above!

There was an understanding that existed between the two of them that had rolled along comfortably for months. They attended the same Church, shared similar interests and friends. He was charming, urbane and one of the nicest men Brianna knew.

Everything, in fact, that a woman could ask of in a partner.

Yet, if she were to compare the crackle and buzz that had sprung up between herself and Jesse Lawless, with the easy friendship she shared with Dale, then she would have to admit that their friendship was as flat as the bubbles in day old champagne. For all that, she had a tender spot for him and she winced from the possibility of causing him pain. Good men and true were hard to come by.

'I'll ring him.' Out of her mother's sight, she crossed her fingers.

Ellen made a neutral response. 'Now, before I forget,' she said, going off at a tangent, 'I received a letter from Alice Fitzgibbon today.'

Brianna switched her focus from one topic to the other, with all the inborn ease gifted to womankind world over. 'Is she still traveling in England?'

'Yes, for another two months.' Ellen stood and shook out the non-existent creases in her pleated cambric skirt. 'I'll give you a ride home.' She walked across the room, signaling for Brianna to accompany her. Once in the spacious foyer, she opened the door to a hidden storage cupboard built into the paneled walling and retrieved her smart brown leather handbag dangling from a hook inside. Automatically nudging the door closed with her shoe, she rummaged around in the bag. 'Alice¾.'

Their conversation was cut abruptly short when the panelled front door was unceremoniously shoved open and slammed into the doorstop with a disregard for it's age or the irreplaceable, hand-made panes of lead-lighting set in an intricate pattern. A youth, all angles and elbows erupted into the foyer.

'Yo, Ma!' He bent his lanky sixteen-year-old frame, beanstalk thin still, to plant an affectionate kiss on Ellen's smooth cheek. 'What's for dinner?'

'How about one for me?' Brianna demanded, planting an affectionate shove in her youngest brother's bony back. She reached up and lifted an earphone aside so she wouldn’t have to compete with the rock music. 'Don't I warrant a kiss, as well?'

'Nope,' he grinned as he took off his head set, letting it dangle around his neck for quick retrieval. 'I save my kissing for pretty girlfriends. And mother's,' he added as a prudent afterthought. 'Unless you'd like to stand me tickets to the "Soldier Boys" concert. In which case, I'd smother you with affection.'

'Who or what are the "Soldier Boys?" '

'You're showing your age.' He fished around in the pocket of his baggy shorts and removed a molded C.D. cover, dangling it in front of Brianna. 'They're only the best group around, as anybody who listened to the radio would know. This is their first trip to New Zealand, and they are in Christchurch to give one concert only. During the last three or four years, they've had hits that have consistently been at the top of the charts. Time you got with it.'

Brianna glanced casually at the artistic images imprinted upon the C.D. cover being waved under her nose, half thinking that one of the distorted, psychedelic faces half-hidden behind absurdly designed military caps bore a resemblance to Jesse. After a moment's indecision, she dismissed the idea as being ridiculous, telling herself that she had Jesse Lawless on the brain and was in danger of becoming paranoid. 'I listen to the radio.'

'Correction.' He dropped the C.D. back into his pocket. ’You listen to the Concert Program, the morning and evening news broadcast on the National Station, and an occasional talk-back session. I bet you don't even read women’s magazines.'

'Children, children,' Ellen clapped her hands. 'Do stop egging each other on. Stephen, I'm taking Brianna home, so be a dear and get Sammy's dinner ready for me.'

At the mention of his name, a sad-eyed spaniel ambled into the room, his stumpy tail wagging with mild enthusiasm.

Stephen began to inch toward the stairs. 'Do I have to?'

'Absolutely not.' Ellen gave her son a cunningly crafted smile that implied all sorts of parental deviousness. 'By the way, did I mention that we're having nachos, and guacamole for dinner. One of your favorites. I'm disappointed you won't be joining us.'

'Okay, I get your drift.' He rolled his eyes in resignation. 'Work or starve. See you around, Brianna.' Readjusting the set of his headphones, he was across to the stairs and up them three at a time, the rubber soles of his cross-trainers making more noise than an army in retreat.

Having generally understood the conversation in a doggy sort of way, Sammy gave his mistress a look that was tainted with reproach, as if to convey his desire for Nachos for his dinner, instead of a pre-packaged canine food.

Ellen ignored the noise of her departing son and the reproaches of her dog. ‘I think now would be a good time for us to go.' She clicked her fingers to the dog. 'Coming Sammy?' The spaniel waddled onto the doorstep in a dignified manner befitting his advanced age. 'As I was telling you before we were interrupted, Alice has asked if it would be convenient to host two acquaintances of hers during their brief stay in Christchurch. It's all a bit sudden, I'm afraid. I think the letter was held up in the mail.' Ellen managed a gentle sigh that suggested that amazingly enough there were some things outside of her control. 'Normally, I wouldn't hesitate, but as you know, both your brothers are home for the summer holidays, and Stephen has asked two of his friends to stay until Christmas. They are arriving tomorrow, so I have a house full. I was wondering if you could help?'

'You want me act as host?

'It will only be for a short time,' Ellen assured her daughter, pressing her point home. 'You said yourself that you’re feeling much better now, or I wouldn't have asked.'

Brianna was more experienced than her brother; she knew better than to take Ellen on in a battle of reason or will. Past skirmishes had taught her that her mother had a way of getting people to comply with her wishes and she conceded with a measure of good grace. 'Just tell me who they are.'

Ellen retrieved the letter and handed it across to her daughter. 'As I recall, their name is something heavenly.'

Brianna had been busy scanning the information. 'Angel,' she supplied. 'Harriet and Emmaline Angel.' She read further, then fired her mother a very suspicious look. 'Mum, they are arriving today.'

Just for a second, Ellen looked uncharacteristically flustered. 'Didn't I tell you that?'

'No, mother, you did not.' Brianna refolded the letter along its original crease lines before handing it back.

'They rang actually.'

‘Now, why didn’t I guess!’

'I told them you would met them at your home before tea time.'

Brianna gave her wrist-watch a swift check. 'Which means they will probably be arriving on my doorstep in about five minute’s time.'

'Very probably, dear. So do hurry along.'

Patrick rotated his hand so that the multi-faceted diamond cupped in his palm refracted the sunlight blindingly. 'Brianna and her mother are leaving now.'

'Patrick, put that thing away.'

Patrick offered the diamond to Emmaline, the size and quality of which, had mankind ever possessed the gemstone, would have become the foundation of legends. For treasure less than this, men had squandered their lives. 'Do you want to have a peek? It has such pretty colors.'

'Don't be ridiculous. We have no need of gee-gaws to see into the lives of people, and you know it. Act your age, Patrick.'

'Like this, do you mean?' Coming to Patrick’s defense Harriet transformed her appearance, growing rapidly older and older until she was as wizened as a crone, sprouting whiskers, toothless, stooped and smelling of the decay of advanced age.

Emmaline's burst of laughter was spontaneous. 'I get your point.'

In a twinkling, Harriet reverted back to being Miss Harriet Angel: Middle-aged, gray haired, whip-chord thin and very sensibly dressed. She examined her appearance critically. 'One day I'm going to ask the Archangel for permission to transform into a teenager.'

'Whatever for?'

'For fun, Emmaline,' Patrick supplied, echoing Harriet's sentiments.

'Yes, very funny. Ha, ha.' Emmaline had also shrunk her angelic proportions so that she resembled a kindly faced, stoutish woman of average height. She patted her tightly permed, pink tinted hair. 'It's a tried and true disguise,' she told him defensively, dusting out the hem of her uncrushable polyester skirt.

Patrick examined his own reflection in the diamond's mirror-like surface and made a grimace. His hairline had receded above the temples, shortened and turned a wispy mouse color. He was garbed in a double-breasted, lightweight suit of brown summer wool and a pressed white linen shirt. A patterned tie, in varying shades of brown, brown socks and a pair of highly polished brown leather shoes completed the outfit. He wriggled his shoulders beneath the uncomfortable suiting that had as much movement as a cardboard cut out. 'We're boring.'

'Trustworthy,' Emmaline corrected heartily, ignoring Harriet's nod of agreement. 'We look as harmless as someone’s favorite relative. Contrary to popular speculation, Angels work better within the security of anonymity. On the rare occasions when we need to reveal ourselves in our true form, it is usually left up to the Archangels to make an appearance. What exactly were you expecting?'

'Something more dramatic.'

'Let me guess. You want a halo?'

He had the grace to look sheepish.

'The image is entirely fictional.' She made much of her sigh. 'Personally, I blame it on the religious art work people were so keen on a few centuries ago.' She dusted a speck of lint off Patrick's shoulder and straightened his lapel. 'As history reveals, if we did appear in our true form, people would be so afraid we wouldn't be able to talk with them, much less be of any help. That is why most accounts of angelic appearance are always preceded by the command: ‘Fear Not!’ ' She made a shooing motion with her hands. ‘Now put that worthless rock away and fade out of sight. Brianna and her mother will be here in a jiffy and they are only expecting two Angels, not three.'

'Ah, Emmaline.' Patrick cleared his throat in a nervous gesture, his knobby Adam's apple bobbing up and down much like a cork marking the end of a fish line. 'I'm not here to help you with Brianna.'

'Just what do you mean by that cryptic remark?'

'It's all in here,' Patrick explained, hurriedly retrieving a small scroll, sealed with a red wax imprint, from an inner pocket and handing it to an impatient Emmaline. 'I have been personally instructed to stay with Jesse.'

Emmaline tore open the regal seal and rapidly read the missive before passing it to Harriet. She folded her arms beneath an ample bosom and the tapping of her foot conveyed her opinion of the written order.

'It's a good idea, Emmaline,' Harriet told her after perusing the contents herself. 'Patrick can get closer to Jesse this way and it will save us having to be in two places at one time.' She flapped the scroll. 'The Archangel has obviously anticipated the demon's meddling and taken appropriate measures.'

'I really will do my best, truly.' Patrick clasped his hands beneath his chin in a gesture of supplication. He looked like an over-eager puppy. 'This sort of work is what I've always wanted to do, only there are so many of us waiting to be assigned down here that I was willing to take on any other work that was offered, just to fill in time.' His face took on a stark expression of contrition. 'I'm not criticizing. It's just that the Master has such high hopes that His children will turn from their foolish ways and seek Him that He has more angels lined up at heaven's door waiting to get a chance to help out than will ever be needed.' Patrick threw up his hands in despair. 'The way things stand at present, unless people begin to pray up a storm, we apprentice angels will have to wait centuries more before we are called upon to serve. At the last count, there were--.'

'All right, all right,’ Emmaline said in surrender, cutting Patrick off mid-explanation. 'I'm well aware of the situation. You can have your chance, only take extreme care. Legion is a strong foe, so don't you do anything without checking with us first.'

'Of course not,' Patrick said with an air of shocked horror. 'I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing.'

Ellen brought her car alongside the curb outside Brianna's cottage and switched off the engine.

'Mother!' Brianna's terse nod indicated the unprepossessing pair waiting on her doorstep. Their clothes, their hair - they reminded her of the arch-typical maiden aunts. 'They're already here.'

'Relax, Brianna. I've seen you cope with worse than two elderly women at a moment's notice and not have a hair out of place.’ She squeezed Brianna's arm. 'Tomorrow, if it will make you feel more comfortable, I'll help you shop for supplies.'

'What about tonight? They might feel slighted if I go out and leave them alone on their first night.'

'I would be very surprised if they did so, dear. They look as though a good puff of wind would bowl them over. I am sure they will probably welcome time to rest. You'll hardly know they are around.'

From his position in the back seat of the car, the Spaniel stuck his wet black nose against the rear passenger window. When his rheumy eyes focused on the extraordinary figures waiting outside the cottage, his compact body came rigidly to attention. He began to quiver until every reddish brown and cream stem on his hairy hide bristled and his stumpy tail began an ecstatic tattoo. Nearing eighty-four doggy years, Sammy might be slow of paw and past wanting to chase the neighborhood cats up oak trees, but he was a dog, and dogs were true. They recognized angels when they saw them. Of all creation, it was only humankind who seemed unable to hear or see the uncountable host of spirits that surrounded them.

Eager to be free, he pawed the door in a frenzy of excitement. When Brianna opened the door and stepped out of the car, she was almost bowled off her feet as Sammy leapt over the seat onto the pavement and made a mad dash toward the women waiting outside her door.

Approaching the women at a more sedate pace, she summoned a neutral smile of welcome. 'You must be the Misses Angels. I apologize for not being here when you arrived,' she offered, and stretched out a hand in friendship.

Harriet paused to give the dog a friendly scratch behind his ears before bustling forward and clasping Brianna's outstretched hand between both of her own.

At the touch of the woman's hand it felt to Brianna like...like she had taken a breath of pure air. ..the sort you can only get when you're at the highest point on a hill top, with your face turned toward the sun. Everything seemed brighter, the sky more blue. For a second she was struck by a spine-tingling sense of deja vu, certain that she should know these women, but the idea faded as quickly as it had come.

'What a wonderful cottage you live in,' Harriet exclaimed, injecting just the right amount of enthusiasm. In truth, after the limitless splendor of heavenly places, earthly dwellings seemed to be a little humble. 'So nice of you to have us stay, isn't it, Emmy,' she called out. 'Oh, forgive me, my dear,' she trilled. 'We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Harriet Angel, and this,' she said, giving a flutter of her bony hands in Emmaline's direction, 'Is my sister, Emmaline.'

Emmaline awarded them a toothy smile.

‘I’m pleased to meet you.’ Brianna took a firm grip on her mother’s arm and pulled her into the fray. ‘This is my mother, Ellen Alexander,’ she introduced in turn.

Not to be left out, Sammy issued a series of short, sharp barks, demanding attention. To the absolute surprise of the humans, he raised himself up onto his hind legs and did a little jig. Embarrassed, Brianna took a grip of the dog’s collar and shushed him.

‘Pure-Heart, son of King’s-Quest,’ Emmaline said. ‘We welcome you, faithful friend, but ask that you to be still. You don’t want to give our little secret away, do you?’

The Spaniel stretched out its head and gave Emmaline’s hand a slobbery lick of adoration.

‘Let me take your suitcases,’ Brianna offered, belatedly remembering her manners. ‘If you’ll come inside, I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

It was well that Brianna and her mother had turned away, else they would have noticed the look of abject distaste that passed between the Angels. They hated tea. As celestial beings they drank ambrosia, the beebread made in the Master’s garden. With a skill that came from practice, they disguised their dietary dislikes behind benevolent expressions and followed Brianna and her mother indoors.

It was time, after all, to play at being ladies.

CHAPTER FOUR

By the time Jesse wheeled his Harley to a halt in front of the house his agent had rented for him for the duration of his stay in Christchurch, he was too restless to settle.

The ultra-modern, single story dwelling, with its eye-catching architectural features may as well have been a mud and straw hut for all the attention he gave it. His mind's eye was stubbornly focused on the image of Brianna now seared onto his brain.

He didn't know how to describe the feeling - didn't dare put a name to it.

Fear struck hard and fast just thinking about where it might lead and he nearly lost his lunch. His crotch throbbed, his palms were slick with sweat, and his mind was little more than mush. All the warning signs pointed to one thing. He was in way too deep to stop. Against the odd, with a handful of sweet smiles and a kiss or two, she had touched his carefully barricaded heart.

Sweat broke out on his body, making him go hot and cold all over.

Meeting her, no matter how painfully announced, had forced him to pause and take stock. He saw his life at a cross road, looking down one bleak pathway after another. Before today, he would have believed his best avenue of escape lay in his film work, making music and the pursuit of personal pleasure. If it had just been a sex thing, a guy's craze, then he could have dealt with it, but she'd gone and brought sunshine into his dark void. She'd given him a reason to hope… to dream again.

He almost hated her for it.

And, damn it, he could smell her subtle perfume still. It wasn't his imagination. The air around him seemed touched by the elusive, sweet scent of roses.

Summer, without the shadows.

Arms held rigidly at his side, he began to pace the courtyard with swift, agitated steps. The sun beat down relentlessly, making him hot and sweaty and gluing strands of hair to his neck and forehead. His cut-down T-shirt stuck to the ridge of his spine. Jesse ignored the discomfort, concentrating his attention on the problem of Brianna.

He was under no false illusions about himself.

He had never tried to be a monk, curtailing his sexual drive. If he wanted a fast lay, all he usually had to do was to crook his little finger, and he could have his choice, for as long as he wanted, no questions asked. The past few years had been reasonably uneventful by choice: having casual sex for the sake of sex had grown empty and he had been too involved with building his career to spare the emotional hype females demanded to sustain a meaningful, long-time relationship. In honesty, not one of those previous women had affected him in the way cute, sugar-coated Brianna Alexander had done with a single kick to his privates. It was so ridiculous he almost laughed at himself. He was a man’s man. His reputation for playing hard and tough and sometimes, mean, was as legendary as his music. The Press had many names for him. Some of them bordered on libelous. None would describe him as Mr. Nice Guy. He squeezed his eyes shut and took several tortured breaths, wishing himself free from her gentle hold, but knowing himself incapable of easy escape.

Mouthing a fierce curse at his own short-sighted vulnerability, Jesse strode toward the solid wooden front door. He keyed the lock, stamped in and kicked the door shut behind him. As if the rapacious souls of Hades themselves snapped at his booted ankles, he was through the foyer and into the living room with a dozen harried steps. For all its luxuriousness, the room had an unlived-in feeling about it, as though it was just a thousand dollar a night hotel suite, and not a place to come home to. The other members of his band preferred to stay at hotels, but since all the adverse publicity he had received at the hands of the paparazzi, he choose to hide whenever possible. The house had been booked under an assumed name and had no link to him. Only a handful of people close to him knew of his whereabouts. As long as he didn’t stay in one place for too long, and no one came up with the bright idea of following him, he was safe for the time being.

Patrick timed his appearance carefully, maximizing the effect. He beetled through the door adjoining the dining area and approached Jesse with an obsequious smile fixed firmly in place. 'May I take your jacket?'

Caught totally by surprise, Jesse spun to face the intruder. His face assumed an immediate mask of suspicion. 'Who the heck are you?'

'I'm Patrick Divine, Sir. Your man about the house.'

Jesse glared at the Angel. 'Nobody mentioned anything about you earlier when I picked up the key from my manager.'

'People tend to overlook me.' Patrick didn't have to fake his sigh. 'I come as an extra, you see.'

'No, I don’t see.' Jesse eyed Patrick up and down with a good deal of skepticism. 'What do you do and how much do you cost?'

'I'm the butler, so you could say I...buttle. As to the cost of my services, these are entirely covered by the fee you paid the agency for the rental of this property.'

'Look, no offense man. I happen to value my privacy.'

'I understand perfectly, Mr. Lawless. Your privacy is guaranteed. I will see nothing, hear nothing, and keep my mouth closed,' Patrick assured, deliberately misinterpreting Jesse's comment. He tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger and gave his straight eyebrows a comical wiggle. 'There is a self-contained service flat attached to the villa where I will stay when my services are not required. You will hardly know I am around, I promise.' Patrick stepped forward and took the jacket from Jesse's unresisting fingers. 'I have already taken the liberty of unpacking the belongings that you had sent ahead. Perhaps you would like some tea?' he offered. 'I blend my own mixture of Lapsing Souchong and Earl Grey which you might find refreshing after the heat.'

Unless he was prepared to physically eject the man, it looked like he was stuck with a butler. He gave his watch a cursory glance. 'I hate tea. It's a girl's drink. What I need to cool myself down, is a swim.' Shucking out of his shirt, he tossed the item across the back of the nearest chair. 'Care to join me?' he asked with a crooked grin and gestured with his head. Through the sliding-glass doors a rectangular swimming pool enticed. The pool side area was paved with marble and professionally landscaped. More importantly, it was entirely enclosed from view by a two meter high red brick fence, this being a pre-requisite for somebody who guarded their privacy as jealously as Jesse did his.

With an economy of movement, he abandoned the rest of his clothes and boots, letting them lie where they fell. In a matter of minutes his buck-naked body sliced even strokes through the chlorinated blue water, his sole audience a few watchful birds, of the feathered variety.

Half an hour later, Jesse hauled himself out of the pool, feeling better now some of his pent-up energy was spent. Although he was helpless to ignore his fascination or the fact that he had fallen harder, faster, deeper than he had ever gone before, he wasn't about to let a pretty face beat him. This was going to be an easy conquest, he was sure, and a smug masculine instinct instructed him in ways he could turn this situation to his own advantage. All he had to do was unlock the flame inside her and melt the ice.

Once done, he could satiate himself with the warmth of her body, steal some of her summer light, and be free of the hold she had on him. With a ready talent for mischief, Jesse set about planning his seduction of the sweet and ladylike Brianna Alexander.

'Sir.'

Jesse swiveled around until he could see the white of the man's eyes. 'Don't sneak up on me, man,' he snapped. There was something about the man that made him feel guilty. 'Next time, cough or something.'

The Angel contained his feelings behind a mask of studied neutrality as he proffered the multicolored beach towel he was carrying.

Jesse took the towel, casually draping it around his neck and using one corner to dry the water from his face. 'It's Eric, isn't it?'

'Patrick,' the Angel corrected with equanimity. 'Would you care for a drink now?'

Jesse nodded. 'Coffee thanks, and would you bring me a telephone while you're at it. I've a few urgent calls I need to make.' Belatedly aware that he was displaying the family jewels to the watchful eye of a stranger, he cursed himself for forgetting golden rule numero uno: "Privacy at all costs". He removed the towel from around his neck and draped it across his lap. Not that he felt uncomfortable with his own nudity, but he'd learned the hard way that it didn't pay to take anyone for granted. For all he knew, Patrick might in all reality be the devil incarnate.

'Hey Pat,' he called after the butler's departing back.

Patrick did a neat about-face, his expression arranged in polite inquiry.

'Get rid of the outfit,' Jesse directed. 'You make me feel under-dressed.'

The Angel flicked his eyes over Jesse's near naked figure. 'Would you prefer I wear a bathing suit?'

Jesse grinned, enjoying the joke being turned on him. 'Hey, I'm a liberated male. Wear whatever takes your fancy, so long as you lose the finery.'

When the muted chime of her parent's front door bell sounded some hours later, Brianna made her excuses and was out of the room in an instant. In the foyer she hesitated long enough to make an unnecessary adjustment to her silky camisole top with it’s matching over-shirt, the soft lavender shade a foil for her creamy skin. She took a deep breath, smoothed the seams on her tailored trousers then reached out and twisted the ornate brass knob.

Fate, in the heart-stopping, toe-tingling guise of Jesse Lawless, was leaning casually against the lintel, a lazy smile playing around his mouth. There was nothing lazy in the way his gaze drifted across her face, down her body to her feet, and back again.

Dragon, pirate or prince, Jesse Lawless had returned to claim his prize.

On the way over, he had kidded himself that he had the situation all figured out. Only now, seeing her standing there, all cute and cuddly in her little-girl-all-grown-up shirt, and the sexy as hell skimpy thing she had under it, he knew he was a doomed man without hope of a reprieve. Slowly levering himself upright, he angled forward and lightly brushed the back of his knuckles across her cheek. Her skin was so soft to his touch…like peaches and cream.. it made him itch to explore the rest of her, to see if she was just as tender to the touch all over. He'd been right about her hair. Let loose as it was tonight, the cloud of lively curls had a tendency to corkscrew into ringlets. Although she had restrained some of the heavy mass in a half-clip at the back of her head, two curls had slipped free, springing forward over each temple. Beneath the glow from the recessed porch light the color was gleaming and rich.

Drawing his eyes.

Drawing his hands.

It was more than he could do to restrain himself and he tangled a thick curl around his finger and tugged. 'Hello, darlin'. Did you miss me?'

‘I hardly gave you more than a passing thought.' Gold lettering boldly embossed across the front of his black T-shirt proclaimed the legend "No Fear". Whether as a warning or a dare, she couldn't be certain. Black Levis riding low on his lean hips, ankle boots and a scuffed and cracked black leather jacket hooked over his shoulder completed the image.

Jesse laughed at her sassy comment. He released the imprisoned curl only to snag her wrist and propel her forward onto the doorstep. Reaching around her, he swung the door shut with sharp click. As his head descended with unhurried ease, lamplight caught the gold of his earring and shimmied. A shaft of pure piratical delight was reflected in his eyes as he took her mouth in a kiss.

Slowly, agonizingly and deliberately slowly, he drank his fill.

When his mouth broke from hers the dragon's eyes glinted with repressed desire. Drawing her closer still, he curved her slender figure against his own lean hardness until she was acutely aware of every inch of his tensile physique. He skimmed his mouth across her cheek until his tongue rested on the racing pulse beat at the side of her neck.

'Follow me, Brianna and I'll lead you to a place so beautiful that you'll never want to leave. All you need to do is say yes.'

Stunned by the potency of the pleasure she felt, Brianna edged back against the band of his arms to look full into his face. With his back now to the light, the shadows of the night kept the expression in his eyes a mystery, but she could feel the unevenness of his breathing beneath the touch of her hands on his chest. For a moment, she almost offered herself.

Almost.

If only she could be like him, taking it all for today and forgetting tomorrow. But she couldn't. Jesse was asking too much, too soon. The palms of her hands were made icy with the perspiration that dampened them. Nervously, she tangled them in the front of his T-shirt, scrunching the knit fabric.

'I don't want this.’ She faltered, embarrassment drying the words on her tongue.

'Don't want what?'

'Casual sex!' She spat it out like a steel-tipped bullet.

'It won't be causal, Brianna.' The silky threat obvious in his voice scrapped along the tips of nerve endings already frayed and taut. 'It will be lots of things, but I guarantee it won't be casual.'

‘I can't take such a step.'

'Why.' Jesse tightened his fingers around her shoulders in a kind of spasm, fear at being left alone to fight the darkness rising up like gall. He fought to conquer it. ‘We’re made for each other.’

'It won't mean anything.'

He muttered something incomprehensible, dragging his hand through his hair. The leather thong he'd used to tie it back came loose and his hair cascaded forward in a sinuous sweep. ‘It’ll mean everything. Trust me on this, okay. Now, let's get out of here before I do something to change your mind that'll start the neighborhood tongues wagging.'

'No, wait, please.' She bit the soft flesh of her lower lip. 'Come inside and meet my parents.'

Neither of them moved for several telling moments. 'Are you sure that's what you want?' There was a heavy tinge of irony in his laughter. 'I'm not exactly a parental idea of respectability.'

'I'm sure.'

He searched her face and started to say something, but stopped on an audible sigh. 'Okay, I'll do this for you. Only, make it short. I want you to myself.'

Michael Alexander, Brianna's father, made no effort to subdue his parental suspicions as he swept his eyes over Jesse. He did not miss a single, maverick detail. Unlike his wife, he recognized the name, knew the reputation.

In another place, another era, they might have unholstered their guns.

After a tense interval, that lasted for perhaps thirty seconds, but to Brianna felt immensely longer, Michael Alexander offered a tight smile and extended his hand, prepared to give Jesse the chance to prove himself with his daughter.

'Jesse Lawless, isn't it? Brianna told us to expect you.' As the men shook hands Brianna thought she spied a look of mutual, if reluctant, respect pass between them. Although he wasn’t entirely easy with Brianna going out with a man of Jesse Lawless’s infamy, he trusted her good sense. He had thought to caution her, but then decided against it. Like his wife, he would wait and watch where this would lead their lovely daughter. He was a powerful man, had eyes and ears across the city. If he needed to, he could act to protect her should things get out of hand. Michael turned to his wife, tugging her possessively close. 'I would like you to meet my wife, Ellen. Can we offer you something to drink?'

Jesse's smile was brief. 'No. Thanks. I have a table booked for dinner.'

'Don't let us hold you up,' Ellen said with a gentle laugh. 'Perhaps you might like to come for a meal one evening? Just arrange a time with Brianna.'

'Thank you, Mrs. Alexander. I'll look forward to it.' A muscle in his neck knotted. 'Please excuse us, but we need to be making tracks.' Turning on his heel, he hustled Brianna toward the door.

Once out of the house, Jesse relaxed and threaded Brianna's arm through his and drew her closer to his side. The touch of her, the delicate scent of her glorious hair and the softness of her warm body, renewed his vigor. 'I'm glad that we got those little formalities out of the way.'

'They liked you.'

'Oh, sure.' Jesse increased his pace. 'Then how come I feel like a kid escaping from the Principal's office?’

She had to run to keep up. 'Not a Principal,' she amended in impish delight. 'Dad's a Supreme Court Judge.'

'Great.' Jesse mistimed a step and swore. Now he’d have a sharp-eyed legal eagle breathing down his neck. He massaged his scalp with his hand. 'Are there any other little surprises in store you might care to tell me about?'

She pursed her lips and tried to look as innocent as possible. 'You have to promise me you won't get mad, though.'

'Brianna!'

'He is Sir Michael.'

Even in the dark, she could see the line of his black brows almost disappear into his hairline. ‘As in, Your Lordship?’

Brianna tried to suppress a laugh. 'In formal circumstances, the customary address is Justice, Sir Michael Alexander. Mother is Lady Ellen.'

'Damn.' Confidence was momentarily stripped from his lean face. 'I'll lay awake worrying if he'll have me arrested if I step out of line.'

'That depends on what you are planning then, doesn't it.'

He swooped and stole a retaliatory kiss. 'That's twice you've laughed at me, babe. You're heading for big trouble.'

She touched her hand to her mouth, feeling the lingering tingle. 'Where are we going for dinner?'

'What's the matter? Afraid of what I might do?'

‘I'm hungry.'

'So am I.'

There was no use pretending she had misunderstood and she returned his gaze. 'For food.'

His mouth twisted into a one-sided smile and he flicked her nose with the tip of his finger. 'Live a little. Even God said we couldn't survive on bread alone. It's love that makes the world go round.'

'I hardly think God had your sort of loving in mind.'

'Lighten up.' He curved his hands around her shoulders to make her stand still. 'Let's keep things simple. I like you. You like me. Good old-fashioned boy meets girl stuff.' He angled toward her and his breath stirred the curls clinging to her neck. 'Only, when you touch me, I sure as hell don't feel like any kid.' When his mouth touched the hollow at the base of her throat, she started, such was the strength of her response. He circled his tongue in the scented dimple. 'I feel like a man ready for a whole lot more than a few stolen kisses. I'm not into cuddles on the front porch and romantic walks in the moonlight. Do you get me?'

She nodded once.

'Darlin'.' He feathered his finger against her face. He hesitated, and traced a gentle kiss across her forehead and looped a curl behind her ear. 'We'll have lots of fun together, I promise.

She managed a tiny approximation of a smile.

'Well.' He turned her toward the gate and got her moving with a small shove. 'Don't stand there then, or I'll be tempted to skip the main course and have you for the dessert.’

To Brianna's jaundiced eyes, the restaurant he had brought her to appeared little more than a back street bar. Situated on a side street above the wharves in the Port of Lyttelton, it was smoke-filled, dimly lit and a far cry from what she had been expecting. As Jesse hurried her forward toward a table partially screened behind an ornamental divider, she scanned the interior through the haze, surprised to see that most of the other tables were already occupied. It was dark enough so she couldn’t make out faces, only hazy outlines.

Jesse signaled for a waiter, then shifted his glance back to Brianna in time to intercept her skeptical inspection. It had been a calculated move on his part bringing her to this place. He hadn't done it to score a point off her, more to get a chance to score, period. Because the outward appearance of the cafe was down-beat, it offered a certain degree of anonymity for someone as well known as he was. Even given that the proprietor was a good friend and he had been guaranteed a secluded corner table purposefully screened from public view, there was no telling how fans might react if they recognized him. Not that he was in any position to complain on that score. The fans contributed to his professional lifeblood. They were the people who bought his music, watched his movies, and supported his fan clubs. He was smart enough to realize that if it hadn't been for their loyalty from the beginning of his movie career, he wouldn't have been as successful as he was today, and he owed them big time. If they wanted autographs signed, or letters answered, then he was their man. Only, the plain truth was, some fans could behaved like real pains in the butt at times. He was counting on New Zealand's international laconic reputation to give him enough space to have one evening where he could make it with Brianna.

'What's the matter, Princess?' he snipped. Feeling tighter than a docking ring and about as lethal, he used her as a ready target to allay his edginess. 'This place not up to your high society standards?'

Perched uneasily on the edge of a wooden chair, an uncomfortable relic left over from a pre-1960's classroom, she returned his glare. 'It is not exactly the sort of restaurant I normally eat at.'

'Hey, fine by me!' He slapped his palms flat on the scarred tabletop, shoving his chair backwards hard enough to crash it to the floor. 'Let's go.'

'Don't try and heavy hand me, Jesse.’ She pointed an accusatory finger at him, wise to his tricks. ‘You chose this place deliberately.'

'You're right, I did.'

'If you are trying to make a point¾.'

'Ah, uh. Despite appearances to the contrary, they serve great food here and the music is some of the best in town.'

'Music?' Brianna widened her eyes to emphasize her disbelief as she searched the room for a band.

'Later. First, we eat.' Aware that he was in danger of making a spectacle of himself and destroying any chance of privacy, he righted his chair and sat down beside her, close enough to snuggle. Reaching back, he retrieved a couple of menus from a nearby counter. Handing Brianna one of the laminated sheets, he made a great show of studying the limited selection.

When she had finished the last delicious mouthful of her seafood pasta, Brianna pushed her plate away with a satisfied smile. She dabbed her lips with the plain paper napkin that had come wrapped around the stainless steel utensils.

'Surprised?'

'I had resigned myself to eating fish and chips.'

'There's a lot to be said for fries.'

She shot him a quirky grin. 'Granted.' She balled her napkin and tossed it onto her empty plate. ‘Somehow they lose their appeal when they masquerade as haute cuisine.'

'Point taken.' He handed her the discarded menu. 'Do you want some dessert?'

Overcome by an imp of mischief, Brianna used the laminated sheet as an elaborate fan, wafting it backwards and forwards. 'I thought you said I was the dessert?'

An immediate response fired the dragon's gaze to a blaze of molten gold. 'That makes three you'll have to pay for.'

'Three?'

'Three times that you've laughed at me,' he iterated as he trapped her hand, turning it over to trace the indent of her lifeline with a callused fingertip. 'Now I'm going to make you beg.'

The dual touch of his hand and his threat, heightened all her senses. 'I don't follow you.'

'But you will, darlin'.' He lifted her hand and skimmed a hot kiss across the palm. 'When we make love, you're going to have to beg me to take you.'

The sheer audacity of his claim took her breath away. She shook her head, trying to extract her hand from his.

Jesse tightened his grip fractionally and smiled his assurance of impending victory. 'I want you, Brianna. The question is not if you'll come to my bed. It's when.' He inched his forefinger across her palm, tracing spiral patterns on the super-sensitive skin, before he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist. His eyes never left her face.

'I don't beg.'

He could feel the quiver in her fingers, see the response darken the blue of her eyes to indigo and it set his pulses hammering in return. 'You will, Brianna. You'll tremble under me and you'll beg.' Both tormentor and conqueror, he continued his pursuit. 'And you'll love it.'

'Jesse, please.'

'See. You've begun already.'

His low, triumphant crow broke the thrall he held over her. With a renewed effort, she gave a tug, freeing her hand. The smile she summoned was arctic enough to freeze the spherical objects off a brass monkey. 'If it suits you to sink to vulgarity, that’s your choice, but I don’t have to take this sort of thing from you, Jesse. Like I told you already, there's no way I'm going to hot foot it into your bed, so set your mind straight right away.'

Bold dragon eyes narrowed, scanning her with nerve-shattering thoroughness and his lips thinned into an irritating smirk. 'Why fight it?'

The heat that she felt redden her skin wasn't any indication of embarrassment. 'Jesse, you're an arrogant bastard!' The expletive came hard to Brianna.

He laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. 'I've been called worse.'

'Stop playing games with me.'

'I'm not playing.' Jesse leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in a languid motion. 'I'm entirely serious.'

Almost of its own volition, her hand closed around the lid of the glass salt shaker, tempting her to throw it at his smug face. 'As am I.'

He saw her knuckles tighten on the shaker and laughed. 'Ice cream?'

'Pardon?'

'Do you want ice cream, or something else for dessert?' he repeated patiently, as though addressing a backward child.

Brianna tilted her chin toward him, struggling to come to grips with the seesaw of her emotions. 'No, just coffee please.'

'Tell me about yourself, blue-eyes.'

In the act of tasting her coffee, she returned her cup to the saucer with a clack. 'My name is Brianna. Nor darlin',' she said, mimicking his smoky Southern drawl. 'Or babe, or sweet-face, or blue-eyes for that matter.'

'Pax, okay?' He held up a placating hand.

He looked like such a big kid, one that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, that she relented. 'What do you want to know?'

'Job, interests, phone number, vital statistics.'

'You flatter yourself.'

'Ooh. Meow.' He pretended to scratch the air with imaginary claws distended.

She gave him a lop-sided smile. 'Among other things, I'm a fledgling writer.'

Innocent of any undertone on Brianna's part, this disclosure galvanized Jesse upright from his slouch and the air between them practically sizzled with tension. Reacting with a whiplash of anger, he slammed his hands, palm down, on the table with such violence he set the crockery shaking. She wasn't a thrill-seeker or fan, as he'd initially believed. Which was bad enough, but something he could handle. This was far more reprehensible. Brianna was a low-life reporter, hot on the trail of a story that would earn her a bonus.

Like many famous personalities who had found, to their cost, the details of their private lives being bandied and embellished by the paparazzi and tabloid press, his fervent opinion of most reporters was less than complimentary. He lambasted himself for not having guessed straight off. Hell, he'd had enough experience with their type so that he had been sure he could pick a reporter out of a crowd just by sight. So, how come he had been so stupid not to see past her charade right off? No, not stupid, he corrected with a sneer of self-deprecation. Foolishly forgetting his second golden rule: "Do not trust a woman, no matter how much he wanted to bed her", he had let a pint-sized Jezebel knock him on his ass.

Rage and resentment seethed inside him.

Dammit! It wasn't fair. But then, when had life ever been fair for him? For a short time, he'd thought that with her he could almost forget anything.

'You've been stringing me along for a story!'

'Excuse me?' She skidded an incredulous glance across his face, disturbed by the heated expression of outrage that sharpened his features. 'Nothing like that,' she assured him, and shot him a placatory smile as she automatically pat-patted the back of his hand in a calming motion. Nervousness made her stammer. 'I've submitted a few articles to different magazines, and with one book accepted for publication, I would like to think I am a marginally successful writer.'

'What sort of book?'

She tried not to take offense at his tone. Okay, she might not be the next Pulitzer prize winner, but it had taken her long months of research and hundreds of hours of hard graft to get her book to this point, and she wasn't about to have him denigrate her effort with snide accusations.

'Teenage fiction,' she said, in a way that dared him to contradict her. 'I'm writing a series of novels targeted for young adults.' Aware she was raising her voice, she made a concerted effort to regain control. 'The book is loosely info-fiction. I’ve set it mostly in Somalia, but I have included other neighboring African nations.'

'That's hardly Girl Guide territory is it? For someone of your profession, surely you could have gotten an interesting story closer to home.'

'I was working in that region for three years, so I'm reasonably familiar with the people and some of their customs. By writing about their lives through the eyes of a teenager, I hope to draw the attention of young people to how life is lived by their peers on the African Continent.'

One dark brow lifted in considering reassessment. Good going Lawless, he congratulated himself. You stuffed this one up for real.

'Very commendable.' Their eyes collided and the smile that played around his face was tantamount to an apology. 'What made you go to Africa?'

'It was something I felt called to do.'

‘Isn't that stretching creative interpretation a bit far, even for a journalist.'

With a spontaneous laugh, she corrected him. 'I've already told you that I'm not a journalist. I worked as a doctor with the Red Cross.'

'You're a doctor? Hell, now I really feel like a complete fool.' He hid his discomfort behind a placatory smile. 'It must have been grueling work?'

'Some of it was pretty grim.' Brianna steepled her fingers together into an arch and rested her chin on their point. Her gaze grew sober as she focused on some inner memory and she looked past his shoulder, seeing another place, other people. 'I was stationed primarily in Somalia and daily life there quickly brings home the shocking reality of mankind's inhumanity to one another. There was so much death and destruction, from both war and famine, that at times I felt as though my coworkers and I were pitted against the specter of death. Because of internal strife between warring factions, in some of the places, the surrounding countryside had been reduced to a shambles. Bands of marauding gunmen looted and ransacked at will, taking everything, so that food and even the most basic of medical supplies were scarce. It was very, very scary and terribly heartbreaking at times.' Brianna returned to the present with a sigh. She found herself staring into his sober stare, but seeing the many faces of a war ravaged people.

'It must have been a nightmare.'

‘The time I spent there wasn't all grim. In fact, I learned a lot of things for which I'll always be grateful.'

'Now you've lost me.'

'Have you ever heard the phrase, "The worst may happen, but the best remains?" '

'Not that I recollect.' He cocked his head. 'Why?'

'The people of Somalia possess so much courage and hope and dignity, even in the face of such appalling conditions. If I had to cope with a fraction of what they handle just to stay alive, I know I would simply give in, lie down and die. From them, I learned that life and love are the greatest possessions of all.'

'You're a unique lady,' he said and for an uncomfortable instance, he glimpsed some of his own shallowness. Lifting himself half out of his chair, the touch of his lips on hers was as fleeting as the brush of a butterfly's wing.

'Jesse?' Her heart did a slow cartwheel.

He shushed her, sealing her lips with his fingers. 'You don't have to say anything.'

'I'm not a saint. Please don't confuse who I am with what I did.'

'Perhaps not, but I think you're closer to the side of the angels than I am.'

'What do you mean?'

'Take a long look, blue-eyes.' The smile faded from his eyes, replaced by an expression too subtle to define. His voice was rough around the edges. 'I'm one of the bad guys.'

CHAPTER FIVE

It was an in-your-eye-dare-to-contradict-me sort of statement.

One Brianna was smart enough to duck.

The sound of activity coming from the vicinity of the recessed stage gave her a convenient excuse to look away. Interest piqued by the commotion, she turned her chair further to get a better view of the group of musicians, rag-tag in appearance, who were assembling their equipment. Being a confirmed classical buff, Brianna was unfamiliar with the tune that the performers launched into, but the catchy beat soon had her keeping time with her foot. At the conclusion of the item Brianna flashed Jesse a smile that conveyed her enjoyment.

'Another surprise?'

She offered a shrug of concession, deliberately returning her attention to the musicians in order to avoid the full force of Jesse's laughing eyes. After a few more items the atmosphere of the cafe became festive, the noise increasing in volume accordingly. The unexpected arrival of a waiter momentarily distracted Brianna's attention from the music. He stooped to speak privately to Jesse, and it was impossible for her to overhear any of their conversation. Jesse's detached expression was unreadable. After a short discussion, Jesse dismissed the waiter with a nod. He repositioned his chair closer to Brianna's, sliding his arm around her shoulders and drawing her into his embrace.

She liked that.

Liked the feel of his arm holding her close and the way his warm breath tickled her neck.

'The band wants me to join them. Do you mind?'

In honesty, Brianna was surprised that he had asked her. From the little she had learned about him, Jesse Lawless struck her as a man who would do anything he choose to. She turned her face toward him and their lips brushed - almost a kiss. The muscles in her stomach contracted and her breath caught in her throat. For what it was worth, she signaled her assent.

'Do you sing, or do you perform stand up comedy?'

'I can hold a tune.' He was reluctant to leave her alone amidst this rowdy crowd. There was no way now he could avoid being recognized if he made an appearance onstage, but committed to his promise, Jesse rose slowly from his chair.

As he began to walk away, he heard his name being hailed from across the room. He turned, recognizing immediately the well portioned, red-haired man rapidly threading his way toward their table. Despite the differences between them in looks, as well as temperament and background, Jesse knew he could count Seth Jackson as his closest friend and the most staunch of his allies. There was a bond that ran deep between them, unbroken by circumstances. They greeted each other with a 'high-five' and a deal of backslapping. Shifting slightly, Jesse turned the man so as to obscure Brianna's view and hearing.

'Thanks for keeping the table free at such short notice. It's getting harder for me to go places without being swamped by the paparazzi. Are you clear on what I want you to do?'

Seth signaled his assent. ‘All taken care of. I’ve checked and I’m fairly certain there are no press present. No one will be taking your photo tonight, so relax.’ He shifted his eyes sideways, giving Brianna a cursory once over. 'You sure know how to pick 'em.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'I would have thought she was a bit wholesome to suit your particular tastes.' He shook his head, his mouth curving into a grin. 'You always preferred your women to have a little more spice, but hey, I’ll put myself out to be nice as a piece of mamma's home made apple pie.' Seth shot imaginary cuffs. 'You go and entertain the customers. I'll make sure the little gal is cared for while you're away and the pleasure will be all mine.'

'You'd be advised to keep your hands above the table where I can see them.'

Seth afforded Jesse a cool appraisal, his eyes narrowing slightly at the corners. 'It's not like you to lose it with a woman.'

'This one's special.'

'Man, either you've got it bad, or you've been at the booze.' He whacked Jesse on his shoulder with a clenched fist hard enough to hurt. 'If you've got an itch that needs scratching, say the word.' He swung his arm in a tight arc. Most of the women in this room would gladly pay to be the one lucky enough to pull a cat like you for the night.'

‘Which is part of the reason I’m with Brianna and not with one of them.’ He mowed his hair with stiff fingers. ‘Surprising as it may seem, she doesn’t expect anything from me other than an evening’s company.

Seth looked far from convinced. 'Have you told her about your live-for-the-moment-and-damn-tomorrow attitude regarding long term romance.'

'We haven't got around to any romancing yet.'

'Oh, boy! You've gone to all this trouble to have an evening out with her, knowing your fear of being spotted by our friends from the paparazzi, and you haven't even scored yet.' Seth rolled his eyes. 'What gives?

'Nothing.' Jesse winced inwardly. 'Brianna's not a woman who likes to have her fences rushed.'

'Right.'

'And I'm in no hurry.'

'Right again.'

‘Cut me some slack, okay.' Unconsciously, Jesse struck a man-about-town pose, one-foot forward, shoulders tight and straight, hands jammed into his denim pockets. His lean hips were angled for trouble. 'I have everything under control. After the tour finishes up next week, I'll be too busy getting ready for filming to have enough free time to get into serious trouble. I run this my way.'

'You're not afraid of a little competition?'

Jesse leaned up close, his forehead abutting Seth's. 'I'm not afraid.’ Even to his own ears, his laugh sounded full of bull and bravado and he cringed inwardly. 'Only, try anything shifty and you'll have your face rearranged.'

Seth grinned. 'If you're so keen on the woman, stay here and mind her for yourself. There will be plenty of other opportunities for me to get a free gig from the famous Jesse Lawless.'

'Thanks for the offer, Seth, but I already owe you.'

'A word of warning then. Just try and look further than six hard and hot inches into the future. Many an unplanned event has grown from one moment of lusty shortsightedness.'

Jesse laughed. ‘I'll be careful to keep...covered. Come and meet her,' he offered with a magnanimous gesture. 'And polish your manners, 'cause I'm warning you, this sweet darlin' is one hundred percent a lady.'

Making a quick about face, Jesse drew his friend forward. 'Brianna, meet Seth Jackson,' he offered with studied casualness.

Brianna sat up straighter in her chair. She gave Seth Jackson a slight nod of acknowledgment, feeling she had earned the right to study this man as he had been covertly studying her. Although not exceptionally tall, he was broad of shoulder, with a face that was handsomely craggy and reddish hair cut close, the man was undeniably note-worthy. Like Jesse, he was dressed in denims and T-shirt, but not all black. Unlike Jesse, he left her emotions entirely unaffected. He may as well have been squat, fat and pockmarked, as she wasn't the sort to play the numbers game.

One man was enough for her.

She met his close scrutiny without revealing her unease.

Seth was the first to break eye contact. He turned toward Jesse and gave a casual wave in the direction the stage. 'Don't let us keep you and longer. I'll look after Brianna for you while you entertain the crowd.'

Beneath the cover of Jesse’s cool smile, unexpected jealousy knifed deep, spreading acrid bile. He loved Seth as much as one man could love another, but he would much rather have teeth pulled than be walking way leaving his girl with another man. Especially a man such as Seth, who possessed that certain confident charisma upper-class women seemed to go for. He was too unsure of Brianna to trust her integrity and he glowered at her, despising the feeling of uncertainty that unmanned his normal self-confidence.

He didn't want to leave her.

He didn't know how to trust her.

The scowl Jesse arrowed at Brianna's innocent eyes spoke louder than a thousand damning words.

Being a novice at this game of dancing with wolves, Brianna wasn't able to interpret the veiled message with any degree of accuracy.

Catching Brianna's perplexed frown, Seth gave a good-natured chuckle. 'Don't mind Jesse. He doesn't like having to share, is all.' Seth seated himself in the chair Jesse had vacated and indicated her coffee, cool by now. He signaled for a waiter. 'I'll get you a drink. What'll you have?'

Reluctantly, she returned her attention to Jesse's friend. She conjured up a smile that denied him the right to take control of her. 'Thank you, Mr. Jackson. I'll have a club soda, please.'

After placing their order, he leaned back, one arm draped across the chair rest. 'Call me Seth,' he invited. 'You're quite a surprise, Brianna Alexander. I can see you're different from his other women. I hope you'll be good to him.'

The polite smile she returned didn't quite reach her eyes. Beneath the cover of the tabletop, she crunched her fingers tightly together.

'I make you nervous, don't I?'

'Not at all,’ she refuted. ‘I don't appreciate being referred to as one of Jesse's women. It's hardly a compliment.'

Seth's expression shifted slightly and he offered a conciliatory smile. 'If I've offended you, I apologize. His smile stretched to reveal perfectly even, white teeth. 'Relax. I won't bite.'

'It seems I've heard that one before.' She leaned back in her chair and laughed despite her initial reserve. 'Are you a friend of Jesse?'

'Guilty, as accused, among other things.' The waiter reappeared with two glasses. Seth offered one to Brianna.

Accepting the drink, she took a sip, letting the cool liquid slide across her tongue. She twirled the fluted glass between her fingers, using the opportunity to size up the man seated opposite. Given his looks and certain style, she wondered how he fitted into Jesse's life. 'Have you known each other long?'

'Long enough. We were at College together.'

'For Americans, you are both a long way from home.'

'We like to get around.' He took a mouthful of his own drink. 'Maybe you should ask Jesse if you want any more details.'

'I get your drift. Ask no questions, you'll tell me no lies.'

For a few seconds he assessed her in silence. 'I like you, Brianna,' he said finally. 'You deal straight from the pack. Just let me say that Jesse's more than a brother to me.'

'I'm sure that's wonderful for you both. Male bonding is a rare commodity and to be valued.'

Sensing a trap, Seth switched tack. 'Why don't you tell me about yourself.' He leaned in closer, his fingers glancing across the back of her hand where it lay on the table. 'What do you do?'

Brianna removed her hand. 'I work for my living, Seth. I don't like being fondled and so far I'm not terribly impressed by you. How's that for starters?'

'Good enough,' he assured, smiled a crooked smile and raised his glass in a toast. 'To love then?' His peaked brow emphasized the unspoken question.

Hesitantly, she raised her own glass in reply, touching rim to rim. 'To love. Whatever either of us understands that to mean.'

Refocusing her attention on the stage, Brianna noted Jesse was accepting a proffered guitar. He slid the woven strap across his shoulder, adjusted the fit, then strolled out to the center of the platform. His unannounced appearance galvanized the audience into a thunder of rollicking applause and piercingly whistled cat calls, all of which he acknowledged with a comic bow. The rowdy acclaim took Brianna by surprise. Jesse turned his back for a moment to speak with the members of the band and at their nod he swung back and began to pluck a few chords.

Then he began to play.

Jesse was a great performer, by any standards. His voice was pitched low, a rich baritone with an edge of gravel, and he knew how to use it….not just with melody and tone. Jesse had the true performer's ability to marry voice with actions, playing her and the audience with consummate skill.

After a short bracket of songs that got everybody going, Jesse held up his hands, signaling for silence. When the room had quieted enough for him to be heard without having to shout, he spoke into the microphone. 'That’s enough for tonight, folks. This final song is for my girl. Most of you will recognize that it's not my usual style, but one made famous by Bryan Adams.' Looking straight at her, he said, 'I'm borrowing his eloquence. If you don't already know, the title is "Let's Make A Night To Remember".'

He began the lover's song, low and suggestive and pulsating. Using his dragon's voice, he wove a silken web through and around her, making it clear to all present just how erotic was his invitation and intent. By the time he'd finished, Brianna's nerves were tight and twitchy and she felt hot and moist at the very core of her body

The audience gave the song a tumultuous round of applause and called for more. Jesse refused their shouted requests with a rueful shrug of his shoulder. He replaced the guitar at the edge of the stage, waved his farewells and jumped down, shouldering his way through the tables and back to Brianna.

Monitoring Jesse's approach, Seth set his glass on the table. 'Catch you another time,' he said to Brianna as he pushed his chair back. He turned to greet Jesse, slapping him roughly on the shoulder. 'Great performance, as usual. Give me a ring when you get a chance. I'd like to get together with the rest of the group.'

Jesse nodded his assent and Seth smiled his farewell at Brianna before moving off. Jesse seated himself. 'You and Seth seem to have hit it off well.'

'He seems friendly.'

'Yeah, peachy. What did you find so interesting to talk about?'

'This and that.' She toyed with the stem of her wineglass. 'Does he work here?'

Jesse made a rude sound in the back of his throat. 'He owns the joint, plus many others like it around the world, along with a chain of luxury hotels.'

Brianna's fingers clenched tightly around the narrow stem of her wineglass. 'I take it there's some point to this?'

'Yeah.' He bit out the word in the same manner as a lion tearing out the jugular vein from a captured Christian's throat.

'We talked. We listened to your music.'

'Doesn't the thought of all Seth's charm and money turn you on, Brianna?' He didn't give her a chance to tender a reply, but snipped, 'Of course not. You're an uptown girl. You grew up with the proverbial silver spoon lodged between your well-capped pearly whites.' He drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. ‘I bet you have so much tucked away in a trust account you could live in luxury for the rest of your life.'

If he was trying to be deliberately offensive, then he had succeeded. 'What's that to you, Jesse? Are you asking me to settle the bill?’

'When I watched you laughing with Seth I wanted to punch his mouth in!'

'Aren't we both free agents?'

His laugh was unpleasant. 'Very free.' The intensity of his emotions disturbed him. Only too aware that his impromptu appearance onstage had drawn attention to his presence, he wanted to cut out before the inevitable autograph hunters swamped him, or he did and said anything really stupid.

He thrust back his chair. 'Would you mind if we cut this conversation short. I need to get some space.'

Brianna swallowed the rest of her argument and stood, looping the strap of her bag across her shoulder. With a tight smile, she allowed him to direct her toward the exit.

Just past the door, she dug the soft soles of her Gucci pumps into the pavement, forcing Jesse to a stop. 'You were great back there. Why didn't you tell me you were a professional musician?'

‘It's nothing special.’ He directed his glare away from her and along the deserted street.

‘Don’t be so humble. If I had half your talent, I’d be pretty happy about it.’

‘Thanks.’ Wary of any pursuit by fans or worse yet, paparazzi, Jesse had been on the look out for anyone following them. When he noticed a number of people emerge from the café he reacted instinctively. 'Look, it's getting late and I want to get out of here.' He took her arm and hustled her forward.

Tired of being treated like a piece of baggage, she shook her arm free and stood her ground. 'I don't like being pulled around, Jesse. What’s the big hurry anyway?'

'Lay off, babe.' The people following walked past them without stopping. Jesse watched their departure until he judged himself safe and then he pulled her dangerously close. As his mouth swooped down, she jerked her head away so that his avaricious lips grazed her cheek.

'Kissing won't solve anything.'

Jesse's mouth thinned into a punishing sneer. 'It’s always worked for me.'

'I can only guess from this sort of behavior that I'm nothing more to you than a casual pick-up.’ Brianna shook herself free. ‘A woman to spend a few hours with, perhaps bed, so you can slate your lust and then later discard without a qualm.' The pause was pregnant. 'Well?' she demanded and slapped her hand hard against his shoulder. 'Does it?'

'Just drop it, babe.'

His terse command pushed Brianna's dander beyond boiling point. 'No, you can drop it.' Pride won out over common sense. 'I'm not going to stay here and be manipulated by you a moment longer,' she told him.

She pivoted on her heel. Head high, she began to march along the street. Jesse called after her to stop, but she ignored his command. Once she had turned the corner a sense of isolation intensified. She quickened her pace, the soles on her hand-made shoes making dull thudding sounds, each an accompaniment to the loud beat of her heart.

Something in the shadows shifted and eyes, slanted and yellow, monitored Brianna’s flight. It cackled its glee, an idea for mischief forming in its mind.

Brianna shivered, feeling for a moment a finger of ice touch her neck. After a hurried glance around, she decided it would be prudent to make herself visible and moved nearer to the line of lampposts standing sentry duty along the edge of the pavement. Her strut for freedom took her past the entrance of a pub, unhappily coinciding with the noisy eruption of two burly men, each made aggressive by an excess of alcohol. Sensing likely entertainment, the men turned and dogged her, crooning obscene invitations that scorched her ears. Terrified now, she picked up her pace until she was almost running. Her flight seemed to excite them to further boldness and the man in the lead reached out a hand to stop her.

‘Sorry guys.’ Jesse stepped between the men and Brianna. ‘The lady is spoken for.’

The drunken louts spun as one to confront him. The one who had tried to touch Brianna hooked his thumbs into a wide leather belt and his brows beetled threateningly. ‘Says who!’

‘I do,’ Jesse told him pleasantly. ‘Do either of you want to make an issue of it?’ Close enough to smell the taint of spirits on their breath, Jesse positioned Brianna behind his back and braced himself for trouble.

‘Well, you can f-off,’ the man told him. ‘Find your own woman.’ Belligerently, he angled his head closer. Light from a nearby street lamp illuminated Jesse’s harsh features. The bully hesitated. ‘Freaking hell! I know you. You’re that---’

‘Got it in one, pal,’ Jesse agreed, cutting him off mid-speech. For the first time he had reason to thank the paparazzi and the film industry for embroidering his reputation with hyperbole. If these guys wanted to believe he was the bad guy cop he sometimes portrayed in his movies, he wasn’t about to disabuse them.

His friend moved up a step. ‘Sweet Mary and Joseph,’ he profaned as recognition dawned for him, as well. He raised his hand in a gesture of repeal. ‘We’re not looking for your sort of fight, man. Take her, if that’s what you want.’ His smile was sickly. ‘There are plenty more like her around here.’ He fastened his hand around the other man’s arm and hustled him forward. Stumbling in their eagerness, they were around the corner and out of sight in moments.

Jesse waited until he could be sure they weren’t going to return. Then he rounded on Brianna. 'Didn't it occur to you that if you hustle your butt around here this time of night, you'll be mistaken for a¾.'

‘What!’ How on earth had he scared them off? Still too angry with him to admit fault or fear, she sashayed up close, forcing Jesse to step back until she had him right up against a damp brick wall. She was sparking on all eight cylinders. 'How typical! Blame it on me. They might think I'd like a few hot kisses, no questions asked, and that I'm game for a night of sex,' she declared. With the jut of her hip touching his and disdaining the consequences, Brianna traveled her lips across the planes of his taut face, trailing trouble. Her sharp teeth nipped at the skin of his neck and she flicking her tongue over the spot, tasting blood. 'Like a...a ten dollar whore, cheap at the price of one meal.'

He gripped her upper arms, forcing some space between them. 'Simmer down lady and don't you ever call yourself that again.'

'Such chivalry. You and those drunken bums can treat me like one, but I'm not allowed to act the part, is that it?'

He flinched, almost as if she'd slapped him. 'There's no need to get your lacy panties in a tight wad. If it makes you feel better, I'm sorry.'

Explosive anger fizzled and died, leaving Brianna deflated. 'So am I. Hold me, Jesse. I was so frightened.'

Jesse wrapped his arms around her, bringing her so close it was an effort to breathe. As he buried his face into her hair and inhaled her subtle perfume, a floral mixture that hinted of springtime, his felt surprisingly hesitant. 'Come back to my place.' Sensing her withdrawal he cupped his hands either side of her face. 'Scout's honor.' He held up two fingers in the traditional salute. 'No etchings.'

'Come back with me, instead,' she countered after a moment's deliberation.

'Is that a good idea? Won't your parents object?'

'I don't actually live with them. I have my own house.'

The rumble of his laughter vibrated against her cheek. He swatted her lightly on her backside. 'Lies from Miss Sweetness and Light. Shame on you. I wonder what other secrets you're hiding?'

'That's our main problem, isn't it, Jesse.' Brianna directed a look of intense appeal towards him. 'Too many secrets.'

'I get your drift,' he said, expelling a reluctant sigh. 'All I can promise is that from now on I'll try to measure up. Okay?'

She knew that it was the second best offer she was going to get tonight. 'Okay.'

The creature uttered a growl of frustration beneath its breath. It hated having its plans thwarted. It would have been such fun to watch the man beaten; taste the woman’s humiliation. Later. For now, it would find other mortals to play with. There would be other opportunities. With that thought, it faded into the shadows cast by the building.

After he had pulled the big bike onto the red bricked courtyard in front of her house, he let the engine idle.

Brianna dismounted slowly. 'Aren't you coming in?'

He indicated the lighted front room. ‘Do you have visitors?’

‘The Angels,’ Brianna told him, remembering her guests.

Angels. That was a new one. 'Forget it, Brianna. I've run out of good intentions for one night. I’m not in any mood to share you with others.' He unzipped the front of his leather jacket, reached inside and withdrew a pen and crumpled envelope, which he thrust under her nose. 'Give me your telephone number,' he told her in a tone that brooked no refusal.

She scribbled the number onto the paper and handed it back, along with the pen.

‘Here’s mine.’ This was a first for him. Letting a woman know where he was staying invited intrusion. Deciding on the risk, he tore off the back stick-down flap and wrote on it his address and cellular phone number. He gave the scrap of paper to Brianna, before returning the envelope and pen to his pocket.

‘Keep it safe, little darlin’.’ Languidly, he leaned toward her. He laced his hand through her tumbled curls and took a kiss of fierce determination from her parted mouth.

'I'll call you.'

Birdsong woke Brianna from a fitful doze shortly after six, leaving her feeling unrefreshed and jaded. She had slept poorly most of the night, her mind plagued by questions and suspicions and unsettling images of Jesse. By any standards, their evening had finished badly. Jesse Lawless had made it abundantly clear that he expected more from a woman than a few warm kisses. And she wasn't going to commit herself to one fast tango around the bedroom.

Out of sorts with the world in general, and Jesse Lawless in particular, Brianna climbed out of bed, abandoning any further pretense of sleep. She padded barefoot through to the living room. Selecting a compact disc at random, she slotted it into the high tech, quadraphonic sound system. The dulcet strains of a Bach Concerto helped gentle her nerves, as did a cup of fine English breakfast tea. She pushed aside the patterned Liberty drapes that curtained the dining alcove, allowing the clean morning sunshine to stream in. Normally the sight of the terraced courtyard that Brianna had meticulously planted this last year with climbing roses and an assortment of flowering plants brought her immense pleasure, but this morning it left her disinterested and she knew why.

Before tangling with Jesse she had considered herself a rational, independent career woman. She didn't date often, but she enjoyed the occasional companionship of men friends. They were usually lawyers or businessmen…conservative men like her father…easy company, attentive and undemanding of whom Dale Harding, her regular escort, was a good example. By tacit agreement, none had ever taken the liberties that Jesse Lawless had obviously considered his, by right of conquest… Or stirred her to such heights… Or made her loose her temper! Unfortunately, after the way things had ended between them, she doubted very much that she'd ever see him again and the thought caused her a great deal of heartache.

'Good morning, dear.'

'Miss Harriet, Miss Emmy.' She replaced her cup and leaned sideways to retrieve the remote control for the stereo. She aimed it and pressed the appropriate button, muting the music. ‘Can I get you something to drink?'

'Absolutely not. You sit down and finish your tea. Emmaline and I only drink, ah...'

'Water in the morning,' said Emmaline.

‘Water,’ Harriet was quick to agree. 'I'll get it.' She turned and scurried into the kitchen. Out of Brianna's line of vision, she did something with her hands. Hovering in mid-air there appeared two plain glasses filled to brimming with a liquid that was as clear as water, but only the Angels and God Himself knew it wasn't. These she took back to the dining room and handed one to Emmaline. 'Cheers,' she said with a smile, clinked glasses with Emmaline and they drank the elixir with alacrity.

'Let me make you toast, then,' Brianna offered, determined to be a good host. 'Or get you some cereal?'

Harriet held up her hand to keep Brianna in place. 'We don't eat very much.'

'Dieting.' Emmaline's tinted head bobbed and she patted her stomach for good effect.

'Dieting,' agreed Harriet. She prayed that God would overlook this wee stretching of the truth.

Not their first. Probably not their last.

Giving in gracefully, Brianna pulled out chairs and ushered her guests to be seated. 'I hope I didn't wake you when I got home last night.'

As Angels never sleep, on account of their eternal vigil, they were able to assure her to the contrary. 'We left the lights on for you so you wouldn’t have to come home to a dark house. I do hope that was all right?

Brianna was tempted to tell them that their thoughtful gesture had scared off Jesse, but what would be the point?

No point at all as that had been the Angels intention all along.

‘While we're all here, girls together so to speak,' Harriet said. 'Emmy and I want to thank you for allowing us to stay with such short notice.'

'It's nothing, really.'

'We appreciate your generosity, nonetheless, but we just want you to understand that we don't expect you to give up your free time to attend to us,' she pressed home. It was vital to their work that they were free to come and go without arousing suspicion. If they had to account for their every moment as guest in Brianna's house, they would waste valuable time. 'We are happy to entertain ourselves and to eat out. In fact, we prefer to. That way we can sample the local cuisine. This is not the first time we've...ah traveled.'

'We fly about all the time,' affirmed the ever-smiling Emmaline.

'Everywhere.' Harriet's coiffured head nodded her vigorous agreement. 'It's such fun to get out each day and explore new sights. Meet new people.'

'If that's the case,' Brianna said, unaware that a pair of experts had manipulated her. 'Why don't I give you a spare door key and you can come and go as you will?'

'Thank you, Brianna. That is extremely thoughtful of you. I couldn't have suggested a better solution.'

The ring of the telephone interrupted them. Conveying her apologies with a polite smile, Brianna stood and walked through into the foyer, partially shutting the communicating door behind her. She lifted the receiver from its nook in the golden pine hutch dresser, answering with a crisp response. 'Good morning, can I help you?'

The rich chuckle that greeted her question set her nerves tingling. 'That's what I'm counting on, babe.'

'Jesse.' Brianna shot a glance through the gap in the doorway before turning her back on the Angels watchful eyes.

'The one and only, darlin'. Were you expecting someone else?'

She cupped her hand around the mouthpiece. 'No. I've only just got up.'

'Well now, that sounds like an interesting prospect. Are you dressed yet?'

'No.' The question was as outrageous as it was unexpected. Ever so slightly, she edged closer to the door, hooked her toe around the rim and drew it forward. Down kilometers of black telephone wire, Brianna swore she could feel his smile, almost see his golden dragon eyes narrow in speculation.

'What are you wearing, Brianna. Describe it to me.'

‘I can't do that!'

'Sure you can. Are you wearing a robe?'

It was a game to him. She knew that and yet she found herself playing along with him. 'Yes.

'There, that wasn't so hard. Now, tell me more. What are you wearing on your feet?'

Brianna glanced down at her curling toes, feeling as surely as if he had traced the curves of her body with his hand and not his voice. 'Bare.’

There was nothing make-believe about his seduction. Phone or not, Jesse was practically in the room with her. Unluckily, so, too, were the Angels. It was useless to resist him, stupid even to try. She wrapped the telephone cord around and around her index finger, much in the same way Jesse had wrapped himself around her heart.

'I have company.'

'Just my luck.'

‘Did you want something in particular?'

'I must be slipping if I haven't made my intentions very clear.'

Behind her back, Harriet and Emmaline exchanged knowing glances. Harriet, being the less subtle of the two, cleared her throat noisily, just to remind Brianna that they hadn't flown away and that voices carried in confined spaces, door or no door.

'Jesse, I have to go.'

'You don't want to play, Princess?’ His answering sigh caressed her skin as subtly as a lover's awakening kiss. ‘Pity. I had things planned for us today. What say you get rid of your visitors and I come over instead. We can have some fun.'

'You can't come now!'

'And how do you propose stopping me?'

'I won't be here. I'm working this morning.'

His hesitation was slight. 'I sort of imagined you worked from home.'

'You imagined wrong.'

'Then I'll come get you after you've finished. Give me a time.'

She calculated rapidly. 'Two o'clock.'

'I'll be there,' he told her and hung up.
CHAPTER SIX

'Well!' Emmaline clucked her tongue. 'He's as subtle as a babe hungering for its mother's milk. What do you suggest we do now?'

'We make ourselves scarce.'

'Is that wise, do you think with the demon on the loose?'

'Emm, I've told you before that you worry too much. We won't be far away in case it tries any tricks.' She butted her friend on the shoulder. 'It will do her good to get out after work and enjoy the sunshine. She's much too uptight for her own good.'

'There you go again, Harriet,' Emmaline complained. 'Seriously, I think you've been watching too many gangster movies.'

Harriet's snort hung in the air as she entered their bedroom. 'Why don't you go and explain to our young friend what our plans for the day are.'

'What plans?'

'We can go over and see how Patrick is getting along minding Jesse?'

For the first time in her entire adult life, Brianna arrived at work fifteen minutes late, her customary calm demeanor as frizzy and ruffled around the edge as the curls that escaped the braid she had ruthlessly restrained them within.

If she had hoped to be allowed to slip unobtrusively into her clinic, she was in for a disappointment. Carefully pushing open the side entrance door, she sidled into the corridor that connected the offices with the reception area, and the first person she spotted was her grandfather. Still a commanding figure at eighty-four, Henry Alexander was a large man in every sense of the word. Broad of shoulder and wide of chest, his seamed face and callused hands were legacies from the years it had taken him to pioneer an engineering and construction firm. As testimony to the level of his success, the company’s name was now synonymous with excellence in the field of major building and road construction. Long concerned about the plight of the city's disadvantaged youth, "New Beginnings" was the brainchild of his retirement years. He had purchased a block of land on the outskirts of the green belt and had then set about creating up a non-profit outdoor education and training center for those who had spurned other conventional institutions. As a volunteer worker, Brianna taught rudimentary health care classes, early child care and vocational skills, as well as providing a free medical advice three mornings a week.

Henry Alexander glanced from Brianna's flushed face to his Omega wrist watch. 'Brianna, you're late,' he noted with a mock frown. 'Did you sleep in?'

'No. I, uh...had a phone call.'

'Not from the new boy friend, by any chance?'

'Grandad!' Brianna hooked her arm through his. 'You've been gossiping with mum.'

'Your father, actually.'

She tsk tsked. 'And they say we women spend all our time on the telephone.'

He ruffled her hair, destroying the symmetry of her braid completely. 'Enough from you, young lady. Now, get along or I'll dock you a day's pay.'

'Hey,' Brianna pretended to pout. 'You don't pay me at all. I do this for love.'

'Shush.' He swiveled his eyes this way and that. 'Not so loud or else or it might catch on. We'll keep it a secret.'

'Keep what a secret?'

With a sigh of resignation, Brianna turned to greet the woman who had come up behind them on feet as silent as cat's paws, which, considering her size sixteen girth, was no mean feat. 'Morning Kate.'

Kate Halswell, Brianna's paternal aunt, receptionist, senior accounts clerk, woman-Friday and the matronly figure around whom "New Beginnings" revolved, shook her head so that her fat, sausage shaped curls bounced. 'What are you two doing skulking out here in the corridor?' she asked, shaking her finger at Brianna. 'And why are you late?'

'Brianna is late because she's fallen in love.'

'Grandad!'

'Look at her, Katie,' Henry appealed, turning to his daughter for moral support. 'Isn't it written all over her face?’

Kate's eyes brightened with a merry twinkle. She cocked her head consideringly. 'I have to admit you do look different today, Brianna.'

'It's just my hair.' Brianna hastily dragged her wayward curls back behind her ears and tortured them into a tight braid, tying the ends with a band rescued from her jacket pocket. She flicked the thick hank back over her shoulder, then took a moment to re-anchor the ends of her neat blouse into the band of her serviceable navy skirt. 'There. See.' She pirouetted for the benefit of her skeptical audience. 'Doesn't that look better?'

Their emphatic denials were identical.

Brianna gave up with a huff. 'You are both impossible.' She spun on her heel and headed for her clinic, head held high.

'Brianna?'

Half in, half out of the clinic's doorway, she hesitated. 'Yes, Kate?'

'What's his name?'

Unbeknown to Brianna, her spontaneous laugh transformed her face so that she glowed. 'Jesse,' she said on a softer note before she shut the door in the faces of her tormentors.

Patrick was in the kitchen. Gone was his staid suiting. By contrast, the smart lemony Hawaiian shirt and tan drill trousers looked casual and modern.. He had put on a long chef's apron over the top of his attire and was busily preparing an elaborate tray.

'Hello,' he greeted his sister angels when they winged unannounced into his stainless steel domain. He waved a sharpened paring knife toward two stools tucked beneath the island bar. 'Make yourself at home. I'm just putting the finishing touches to Jesse's breakfast tray.'

Harriet perched her bony rump on one of the chairs. She examined the tray on which Patrick was placing a decorative arrangement of fruit, fresh waffles and a choice of syrups. 'Goodness. That looks very professional. Where ever did you learn to cook?'

Patrick's chest puffed up with pride. 'Whenever I found myself at a loose end between assignments, I'd nip down here and try to learn some new culinary skill.'

'I should imagine you get a good deal of time fill up.'

Patrick fluttered his hands in Emmaline's direction. 'I try my best.'

Ever the peacemaker, Harriet shot her friend a look of stern reprimand that reminded her Patrick might be the proverbial square peg in a round hole, overzealous, bumbling, and inept, but for all that, he was one of God's created heavenly beings and worthy of encouragement. 'Of course you do, Patrick. We've all made mistakes in our time and I for one admire your determination to learn. Tell me though, do you eat what you make?'

‘Oh, my! No! It would choke me.' Taking down a wooden handled ladle from the wall rack, he closed his eyes, his forehead wrinkling as he concentrated. After a moment, he lifted the ladle and dipped it in the air. It came up dripping with a nectar as pure as dawn's first dew. With a slight bow from his waist, Patrick presented the ladle toward Harriet.

She received the offering with a delighted grin that revealed two straight rows of pearly white teeth. 'This is more to my taste.'

Impressed, despite herself, Emmaline nosed in for a piece of the action. 'Where did that come from?'

Patrick bent forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper, 'I worked in the horticultural division the time before my last assignment and I was able to discover all sorts of delicious secrets.'

Emmaline found the little-boy-eager-to-please expression on his face hard to resist. She stuck out a knobby finger and caught a drip, licking it up with relish. 'Maybe you do have your uses, Patrick, my boy. We've some time on our hands, so why don't you take Jesse his breakfast, then tell us what other secrets you discovered in the garden.'

True to his word, Jesse was on her doorstep before she'd finished changing out of her office clothes. The growl of 1000 cc's of super-charged engine power shattered the silence in her quiet cul-de-sac. Within the comparative safety of her bedroom, Brianna hurriedly dragged on a fresh top. The doorbell’s peel sounded impatient as she rammed the soft cotton fabric into the band of her pleated skirt and fastened the zipper. Mentally blocking out the imperious summons, she combed her hair into order and secured it at the nape of her neck with a wide slide grip. Another, longer blast, set her nerves jumping, but she refused to let it intimidate her. The bell was being blasted with a series of short, sharp jabs as Brianna threw the door wide.

Jesse's gaze, bold as the searing sun at noontime, skimmed down, then up, missing nothing. The air, already made fragrant by the tiny wedding-day roses clambering over the wooden trellis set on either side of the cottage door, seemed to sharpen perceptibly. Brianna took a deep, heady breath. Jesse eclipsed all her senses.

'You look good enough to eat.' His bold eyes made love to her. 'Is it safe to come in?'

'Safe?'

'Your visitors'

'Oh.' The penny dropped. 'The Angels aren't here right now.'

Laughter on his lips, Jesse didn't wait for an invitation as he brushed by her and strolled into the rectangular entrance-way. He took in at a glance the simplicity and homeliness of the decor. He'd half been expecting Brianna's house to reflect the elegant style evident in that of her parent's. That house had made him feel uncomfortable, as though every expensive object sported a little neon sticker warning: if you break it, you’ve bought it. Here though, the furniture had a look of practicality as well as decorativeness. It felt like a place to come home to. He brought his sharp gaze to rest on her face, being deliberately explicit in his investigation.

'Very nice.'

Brianna ignored the double entendre. 'I'm glad you think so.'

The corner of his mouth quirked into a one-sided smile. 'Why do you fight it, blue-eyes?' He moved closer, so close nothing existed for her but him

He was fire and touching him branded her.

She pushed against his chest, gaining a few inches of space. 'When you look at me, who do you see?'

He blew softly, the warm current stirring the tendrils of hair at the nape of her neck. 'I see a beautiful woman with a smile that causes a man to dream.' Something unholy glowed in his eyes. Deliberately slowly, he moved his hand up over her rib cage, stopping a heart beat beneath the swell of her breast. 'I want those dreams to come true.'

'Jesse.' Her whisper was more a plea than protest.

He brushed the corner of her mouth with his. 'We write the story as we go along.' Warm lips shifted, explored, and a tremor of delight shook her.

Brianna covered his mouth with her fingertips. 'Please stop.'

Although he stepped back, his arms dropping to his side, there was an underlying tension about him. He might concede to her wishes, but he wasn't acknowledging defeat. After all, Brianna reminded herself, dragons could wait for a long, long time.

'You want me to play the gentleman?' He strung out the three syllables until they stretched as long as a Texas mile, and were about as dry. 'Karma, fate, destiny, heaven even.' He gave a shrug. 'Call it whatever you like, but it has bound us together and we have to continue until our journey finishes. Trust me.'

Trust him!

She laughed out loud. If a man looked like a dragon, and he kissed like a dragon, and he rode a bike that gave the dragon wings, then he was a dragon.

'I'm really quite harmless. Spend the day with me and I'll prove it to you.'

'Doing what?' Her interest was piqued, despite her distrust of his intentions.

'The sun is shining and the surf's up. If it agrees with your sensibilities, change into something with less starch in it and let's go to the beach.'

'Hey, lazy bones. Come in for another swim.'

Reluctantly, Brianna prized open one eye. 'Go away,' she said on a groan. 'Can't you see that I'm dying.'

'This will help revive you,' he laughed and like a shaggy dog, shook himself, showering a spray of water all over her naked skin.

Brianna yelped and jack-knifed upright.

'See, it worked.' He plunked himself down beside her, edged closer, crowding her.

'Don't expect any thanks and please get off my towel.'

He rolled over and propped his head on his palm. Beads of moisture trickled lazily down his throat and snagged in the coarse, wiry hair liberally covering his chest. For a wildly insane moment, she wondered what it would be like to lean down and lick the beads that clung invitingly to his peaked masculine nipple.

'Why didn't you do it?'

'Swim?'

'Touch me.' He fell on his back, arms flung open wide in invitation. 'Take what you want, I'm all yours.' Jesse flipped himself onto his stomach, pillowing his head on his folded arms. When he felt her feather-light touch hesitantly probe the puckered and jagged scar which dissected his neck from left ear to a point just above his shoulder blade, he didn't move a muscle even an inch.

'What happened?' The scar tissue still had the pink-purplish tinge of recent healing.

He concentrated on the delicious feel of her fingers on his still-wet skin. 'The blade slipped.'

More deliberately, she moved her hand until her palm covered most of the scar. Her fingers curved gently around the back of his neck and tangled in the hair that fell wetly around his shoulders. 'If it had been a little more to the front, you might have been seriously injured.'

'I believe that was his intention at the time.'

She jerked her hand back. 'It wasn't an accident!'

'Hardly, Brianna. Do you think I got this when I cut myself shaving?'

Her eyes enlarged, filled with a sudden horrible image as she imagined the worst. 'You could have been...'

'I wasn't.' He offered her a crooked smile. 'If it's any consolation, you should have seen the other guy.'

'Please don't joke about something this serious.'

'It happened in another place, another world.' Jesse jerked himself upright and lowered her hand, but he refused to let go. He liked the feel of her soft, warm skin too much to relinquish the touch. 'You did okay out there.' He inclined his head toward the sea, and the sailboards zigzagging across the curl of the waves, their bright sails making iridescent splashes of color against the horizon.

Reluctantly taking her cue from him, she let him change the subject. Unconsciously cat-like, she stretched her arms over hear head to full reach. The fabric of her jade lycra swimsuit pulled taut, outlining her slim figure. 'I think I'll regret it tomorrow, though. I fell off so many times that I'm already stiff.'

'Now that I can cure.' Jesse repositioned himself so that Brianna fit snugly between his outstretched thighs. Strong, sure fingers began a rhythmic massage of her neck muscles that felt like heaven and more.

She sighed, instinctively arching her back beneath his probing fingers. ‘Just what I needed.'

'Then you're easy to please.' His hands drifted lower, circling slowly over her shoulder blades. 'What else can I do to be of service?' Gently, as he sensed how fragile she was and didn't wish to scare her, he encircled her hips with his hands, lifting her as if she weighed no more than a child. He turned her, and brought her down so that her legs straddled him, their bodies touching at every point. The kiss he offered was a sweet joining of their lips. 'Come on, Brianna,' he whispered against her open mouth. 'Let me love you.'

With Jesse's hands on her skin and his mouth only a prayer away from her ear so that each breath warmed the sensitive skin, Brianna knew that he was seeking permission to do much more than touch.

'Kissing and touching on a public beach is not my idea of loving, Jesse.' She kept her eyes glued tight to the red and blue rose tattoo that climbed across Jesse's right upper trapezium and shoulder. 'I don't like providing the peep show.' Even to her own ears, she sounded as tight-lipped as an over zealous convert in a whorehouse!

His eyes hooded, glowing with a yellow fire that warned her they had already gone too far. 'I'm randy,’ he stated explicitly, in case she might have missed the signs so blatant even a corpse couldn't overlook. 'Is that such a crime?'

Perhaps not by his standards, but by hers it was a cheap shot and it hurt. ‘Let me up, please Jesse.'

He opened his arms and Brianna scrambled off his lap. Hugging her knees tightly to her chest, she skittered a fleeting glance at him and away again. She picked up a twist of driftwood and drove its point deeply into the sand. 'Does it help if I explain that I hold old-fashioned values. Forever after and fidelity.'

'Is this your way of telling me to keep my grubby hands away from your precious silky drawers.'

'Don't cheapen this, Jesse.' She tilted her chin to an impossibly high angle. ‘It's not my style to jump into bed with someone I barely know.'

Jesse swore bluntly. ‘If there’s a moral to all this, why don't you get to it?'

'Trying to act the injured party won't cut with me.' She waggled her forefinger in reprimand. 'All the attention you're paying me is intentional. I may be less sophisticated than you expected, but I do know what you are after.'

He leaned his weight back on his elbows, an expression of masculine smugness written a mile high across his piratical features. 'Let's just cut through all this yapping and get on with the chase.'

It was a little like dealing with a child who refused to open his mouth and say ah for the nice doctor. Sandy fingers tapped the shadowed valley between her breasts. 'There's more to me than a body. I could sleep with you, and then what?'

'Then the sky lights up.' He fixed her with a hungry look. 'You should give it a go, Brianna darlin'. It might loosen you up a bit.'

She had to laugh. 'You're like a soda can. One good shake, pop the top and let the whole thing blow!'

'Geez, there you go again, laughing at me. You're making this hard,' he complained and his sigh was pure exasperation. 'Okay, run this past me one more time. You like me, right?'

'Sure, I like you, but I think that I'm worth more than a casual fling.'

'I never denied that.' Their eyes tangled, dueled. He uttered a short, picturesque exclamation of disgust. 'Lady, you set a high price for your favors.'

Defeat left a bitter taste in her mouth. She ducked under his arm and lunged to her feet. 'Like I told you last night, if all you care about is a few nights of sex, go look somewhere else for it.' She swept her clothing together in an untidy pile and turned to make a grand exit. 'Excuse me, I'll just go and get dressed.'

Before she had taken a step, Jesse's hand wrapped her ankle in a vice-like grip. One hard tug toppled Brianna, indignant face first, flat in the sand.

'Whoa. Not so fast. We're not done with this yet.'

Every woman has her limits. Being manhandled ensured that Brianna reached hers.

Up she came, spitting sand and a whole mouthful of un-Brianna-like curses. She, who thought violence was wrong and had never in her entire life intentionally hurt even an animal, hauled off and landed an opened-palm slap across Jesse's cheek, so hard, his head snapped to one side and her palm stung. Immediately appalled by what she had done, Brianna stared at the reddening welts.

Wind blew tendrils of long blue-back hair across his face, the only thing that moved between them for a long moment. Then, to her utter consternation, he rocked back on his haunches and laughed uproariously.

'I don't suppose you'd like to explain what's so amusing?'

Slowly, he rubbed the spot where the welt was already beginning to fade. 'Okay, you have a deal,' he said after a silence that threatened to stretch longer than her patience. 'I'll try things your way.'

The glare she sent him was lethal. 'I'm serious.'

'So am I blue-eyes.' All traces of complacency vanished from Jesse's expression in the blink of a golden eye. 'Very serious.'

'I just don't understand you.'

'What's to understand? I agree to your terms.'

'And now you’re patronizing me.' She straightened until her back could substitute for a ruler. 'I'm not offering terms.'

His teeth gleamed in a white smile and he touched a fingertip to the end of her nose, tracing the line of freckles. When she was aroused, she was spectacular. He wanted to know more about her…much more…everything. And he was greedy enough to want it now.

'Sure you are,' he disagreed softly. 'I've never met a woman until you who demands I get to know her before I sleep with her. So that makes you a challenge.'

She narrowed her eyes and her lips mutinously. 'I am not going to bed with you when you snap you fingers,' she retorted in waspish rebuttal.

'Save your lecture, 'cause as of now, you're preaching to the choir.' His long, slow smile gave him the appearance of the hungry dragon in hunt of a conquest. 'Does this really mean so much to you?'

The time for hesitation was past. 'Yes.'

Her declaration invigorated him. It made him feel heady and excited. Hell, he hadn't felt this alive for months. Or felt as unsure of himself.

'Then we'll just have to find ways to compromise. But be warned, darlin’. When the times come, I'm out of here. I don't want any misunderstanding about that or any regrets.'

She looked away in silence.

He choked back an exclamation that might have been either a laugh or a groan. 'Relax.' He pulled her body into the curve of his arm and she felt the rumble as his laughter went all the way clear to her cuticles. 'I'll take it slow and easy.'

Against her better judgment, Brianna found herself asking, 'How slow do you consider slow?'

'Slow enough to make it feel like forever.’ The brush of his fingers on her sensitized skin was fire on fire. His head dipped, masking the fierce glow of golden conquest in his dragon eyes as he kissed the side of her neck. ‘Just learn to take me as you find me, Brianna.'

'That works both ways.'

'Granted.'

Brianna eyed him with disconcerting seriousness. 'It seems to me that you'd sleep with me without a second thought, but I still won't know who you really are.'

'So you've said.' His eyes glittered dangerously. 'What makes you think there's anything about me worth searching for?'

'I like you, Jesse, and I know I'll like the man I think you're hiding.'

'It could be a big risk. Maybe it’s better this way,’ he said. ‘We know the important things. Whatever comes before this moment is just history.’

‘What are the important things?’

‘How we feel when we are together.’ He stroked her arm. ‘Everything I sensed and wanted in you from that first moment.’

Her eyes looked wistful. ‘Can that be enough?’

‘If you look any deeper I might turn out to be someone with a past.'

'True.' A smile highlighted the real warmth in her eyes. 'But that's part of the risk.'

'Thank you, Brianna. One thing I will promise,' he said as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist, his bold eyes never leaving her face. 'You'll never forget me.' He kissed each of her fingers, one by one. 'I like chocolate.'

She blinked. 'Pardon?'

'Chocolate,' he repeated with an aren't-I-a-cute-fellow sort of grin. 'I'm telling you about myself, so how about you?'

'Ah, yes.' She took a deep breath. 'Sometimes.'

'And hot buttered popcorn.'

She nodded, beginning to understand. 'I love it.'

'Now you're talking.’

‘The smell of freshly ground coffee…’

‘Bacon under the grill.’

Her grin widened. ‘The smell of summer rain on dusty ground.’

How about movies? What's your all time favorite?'

'You won't laugh?'

He gave her one of those looks.

'I don't watch many modern movies, but I'm a sucker for those old black and white classics, especially "Casablanca" and "The African Queen".'

'Figures.' He rolled his eyes. 'Why those in particular?'

'They are based on honor, trust and integrity.'

'That matters to you, doesn't it? You know, like on a scale of one to ten, honor and junk like that would rate what? Six? Seven?'

'Probably higher. Nearer eight or nine. And you,' she asked in return, then held up her hand commandingly. 'Let me guess. 'Something with Stallone or Schwat...his name. Thingy. All blood, guts and glory.'

'Wrong.' Jesse flexed his biceps. 'Too much competition. Compared to them, I look like the proverbial ninety-eight pound weakling. But I'm a guy and I like guy stuff with lots of action and a bit of sex. A movie where a man can prove he's a man, beat the bad guy up, right the wrongs in the world and win the woman.' He rolled over onto his back and cushioned his head on his linked arms. 'My favorite colors are kingfisher blue, and sea green. I like my food served hot, my drinks with ice in them and lovemaking to last beyond the dawn.'

She grinned down at him. 'You never give up, do you? Let me see.' Brianna tapped the tip of her index finger against her chin. 'Gold is also my favorite color. I like medium white wine chilled and a full-bodied red to be blood temperature.'

'See,' he pointed out with a daredevil twinkle. 'We both like full bodies that are warm. What about books?’ he asked before she could come back with a fast riposte.

'Too many to mention, although as a child I loved reading 'Winnie-The-Pooh' stories, and I read The Bible.'

He tipped back his head and laughed. 'There we differ. I prefer something more sophisticated and believable myself. I’m not into fairy tales.'

'I take it that you're not much of a man for faith?'

Jesse met her eyes. His own had hardened. 'Take care of number one; that's my golden rule.' Let’s up the stakes. Tell me something about yourself. A secret.’

‘Oh, no, that would be too easy. You have to go first.’

He pushed back his hair with sandy fingers. ‘It was me that wrote graffiti on the Principal’s front door.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘What did you write?’

‘That Mary Roberts had a mole under her left breast.’

‘I hesitate to ask, but who is Mary Roberts?’

The smile on his face was one of pure masculine smugness. ‘The Principal’s daughter.’

She tossed her head and laughed. ‘Was that first hand knowledge?’

He clicked his tongue. ‘Fancy you asking me that.’ There was a gleam in his eye that she thought best to ignore. ‘Now, your turn to tell all.’

Her expression was dreamy. ‘I like picnics.’

‘That’s it?’ His look of disgust made her giggle. ‘What’s so secret about a picnic?’

‘Not just any picnic,’ she corrected. ‘Picture a cold night. I’m tired and feel like indulging myself. First I go shopping for food - exquisite food that is almost sinful, it’s so expensive. Wafer thin slices of smoked salmon, exotic out of season fruit, big juicy olives and gorgeous cheeses. Then I get some caviar, if it’s fresh, with little bits of Melba toast and a bottle of real champagne.’ Ever so slowly, she painted the tip of her tongue across her lips, coating them with a wet, glossy film. ‘It’s raining outside, so I light the fire, put on some mellow music. Then, I switch off the phone and kick off my shoes.’ Brianna stretched out her feet, pantomiming her narrative. ‘I take the big, soft pillows off the sofa and toss them on the floor, then stretch out on them. Me, the fire, all that food. What could be nicer than, squashing every little egg in my mouth one at a time and drinking bubbly? It’s divine. I think my picnics make a very, very good secret, don’t you.’

‘Are they for you alone, or do you share them with someone else?’

‘Jesse. Shame.’ She stretched her arms above her head in a languid gesture. ‘Fancy you asking me that.’ Turning her head, she saw by the look that crossed his face that she had succeeded in surprising him.

‘Touche.’ His groan was pure theatrics. ‘Will you come out with me tonight?'

'Is that what you really want?'

'Hardly.' He offered a smile that was winning. 'But I take what I can get.'

'Okay,' she agreed, and picked up a twig and gave him a tiny jab. 'As long I get dinner thrown in.'

'What is it with you and food?'

She laughed. 'Isn't it a woman's golden rule that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach?'

He captured her hand before she could inflict further damage. 'Yes, blue-eyes, I'll feed you. Now let go of that stick before I'm forced to defend my honor.'

The front door, keyed and shoved open by Jesse's impatient hand, was booted shut. 'Pat!’

Patrick entered in a studied fashion. ‘You called, Sir?'

Jesse eyed the hovering butler with something close to disfavor, his edginess at having to ask another man for advice making him snappy. If he wasn’t so far out of his league trying to impress a woman like Brianna, he’d never ask another man for dating tips. It made him seem like a wimp. ‘Did they teach you anything at Butler's School about what sort of gifts are considered appropriate to give a high-class woman you want to impress?'

Patrick's expression registered momentary surprise. 'I am afraid that sort of advice was not covered in the curriculum, Sir. Isn’t it traditional to give such items as chocolate, perfume and flowers? Or make promises you don't intend to keep?'

Jesse crossed to the living room window and stared without really seeing out over the terrace. 'Come on, Pat, drop all this ‘Sir’ stuff.' Jesse absently fingered his eyebrow. 'To tell you the truth, I haven't bothered or needed to chase a skirt for a piece of the action since I was in high school.’

Patrick paused delicately. He wondered what Emmaline would say in reply. Then again, she wasn’t here and guiding Jesse was his assignment. He breathed deeply and took the plunge. 'Perhaps if you were to tell me more about the ah...skirt in question, I might be able to offer a sensible observation concerning her primary love language.'

'What the hell is a love language?’

'It’s how we recognize we are being loved. Do you understand that there are two sides to loving: giving and receiving?’

Jesse raised a brow. 'There's a difference?'

'Definitely.' For an Angel, this was nursery level and his confidence grew. 'If we don't understand what another person appreciates then we’ll fail to get our message across.’

'Like for instance, I may want to give this woman a diamond bracelet because I like her company,’ Jesse embellished as he caught on quickly. ‘Only, she'll think it is payment for sex, or some damn thing and we both miss out on a great opportunity?'

‘Ah, yes. You’re on the right lines. Unfortunately, loving another person in the way they hear it doesn't just happen like spontaneous combustion. If love has any hope of growing and lasting past the initial attraction, it takes work and commitment.'

Jesse gave his butler a speculative look. The man was getting too preachy for his liking. 'I have to warn you I'm not much of a man for this touchy-feelie stuff. The lady in question presents a challenge. I have some time on my hands and playing around with her for awhile will be amusing. Apart from having some fun, I don't plan further than for today.'

'Then let me offer a word of caution. Before you walk away from what you have been given today, think twice about what you may be turning down.’ The look Patrick gave Jesse was sober. ‘It may not be there for the taking tomorrow.’

Five minutes before eight, Jesse was back on Brianna’s doorstep, box in hand. He proffered the small, cellophane wrapped package, tied with a stiff silver ribbon.

'Chocolates?' She turned the box around and around in her hand. Although she recognized the brand of hand-made confection, she acted as if she was half-expecting it to be booby-trapped.

'Wasn't that part of the contract.'

'Contract?' Brianna knew she was beginning to sound like a supporting line in a second-rate comedy act.

He touched the collar of the military-styled drab green polished cotton shirt she wore loose over tan slacks, running his finger along the sharp crease. The top buttons had been left undone, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of a satiny camisole that guarded the treasure beneath.

'Candy, to woo you with,' he teased. 'Something to do with the courting ritual.' He didn't give her time to reply. 'Interesting outfit. Is it the latest in modern feminine armor?' In a brazen move, he wandered his finger down along the line of metal studs engraved with a distinctive designer initial.

'You devil!' she accused without real conviction and took the necessary step backward that broke the connection. 'You're incorrigible.'

His muscles bunched and flexed as he shrugged his shoulders. 'Babe, you ain't seen nothin' yet.'

'Come in,' she invited belatedly. 'I'll just get my jacket.'

Not one to need a second invitation, Jesse was through the door faster than greased lightening. Assuming the invitation included a guided tour, he was close on her heels right through the cottage to her bedroom door.

'Do you mind?'

Brianna turned in the middle of the room to see that he was holding up the chocolate box that she had left on her dresser. 'Help yourself.'

The ribbon and cellophane wrapper came off with one tear. He scrunched them into a ball, took aim, and accurately fired the wad into the woven wastebasket half hidden beneath her bedside table. 'What's your favorite?'

'Peppermint cream,' she told him, naming the first that came to mind.

'This one?'

Without a clue as to the flavor of the chocolate he held aloft, Brianna gave a nod. Her smile faltered when he walked toward her. 'Jesse, I don't really want a chocolate right¾.'

'Hush, Brianna,' he said, expeditiously cutting off her protest by popping the chocolate into her open mouth. 'Have I ever told you that peppermint is one of my favorites?'

Mouth full, she managed a negative shake of her head.

'I also like orange creme.'

The way he was looking at her, the lambent glow of desire damped down, was warning enough. She swallowed hastily. 'I bet you do.' Before he could conduct a further taste test on her, she made a beeline for the door.

Encroaching on her personal space all the way to the living room, Jesse came up short when he turned through the open doorway and found himself nose to nose with Harriet Angel.

'Uh... hi.' He fired Brianna a questioning look out of the corner of his eye.

Brianna hid her own amazement. She would have sworn that the women had gone out for the evening not ten minutes ago. 'Miss Emmy, Miss Harriet. Meet Jesse Lawless.'

'I hope we didn't startle you.'

'Don't sweat it,' Jesse instructed. He gave the women a twisted grin.

'I forgot something so we ducked back in,' Harriet offered by way of explanation for their unexpected return. 'So nice to meet you, Jesse.' She fastened a pair of sharp green eyes on the man, pinning him to the spot. 'We would like to stay and chat, but we have...' She inclined her head, and right on cue, a car horn sounded. '...Ordered a cab.' With a brisk movement, she pulled on a pair of short lacy white gloves. 'Come along, Emmy.' With a smile of dismissal, she herded the other Angel before her with a shooing movement. 'Don't wait up for us. We will probably be late.'

Jesse stared after the departing Angel's with a bemused expression. He shook his head as if to clear a fog from his brain, thinking he must be hallucinating or something. 'You know,' he said after he heard the sound of the front door closing on the Angels departing, sensibly shod heels. 'I could have sworn I've meet those two old broads before.'

'The Angels are not old broads.'

'On the contrary,' he argued. 'If ever there were a pair of biddies, those two fit the bill right down to the wrinkles in their bullet-proof pantyhose.' He massaged the back of his neck with his hand, smoothing down hairs that he swore were standing on edge. Slowly he swept his eyes around, noting how Brianna had managed to combine her feminine appreciation of beauty with practicality. In keeping with the rest of her home, the living area boasted the rare combination of being both functional and welcoming. 'You play the piano?' His nod indicated the upright Suzuki backed against an internal wall.

'Do you want me to sing for my supper?'

'I'm just curious. How can I get to know you if I don't ask questions?' He rolled his eyes toward the stippled ceiling with its sculptured plaster rose center-piece. 'I ask you, is there no pleasing the woman?'

Jacket in hand, she minced toward him until they stood eye to eye, no mean feat considering he stood a good eight inches taller than she was. Brianna had to rise up on to tippy-toes to bring her nose on a level with his. ‘I learned ballet until I was seventeen and I have earned my letters in piano and flute.' The look of surprise on his face was ample reward. 'Eat crow, buddy.'

'I bet you look great in a tutu.'

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, signaling her dissatisfaction.

'Okay, I read you wrong.' He sweetened his concession with a wry sort of smile.

Brianna licked her finger and drew an invisible tick in the air.

He hooked his thumbs through the top of his narrow tooled leather belt. 'Behave yourself, woman,' he warned, but his voice carried no trace of menace.

While Brianna was collecting together those things which women deem indispensable for an evening's outing, Jesse inspected her C.D. collection, extracting disks at random. After the fifth disk he made a disparaging sort of noise in his throat. He called out, 'Don't you have anything that you can hum along to?'

Brianna returned to the room and took the offending disk from him. She knelt down and returned it to its rightful slot. 'I happen to like classical music.'

'Classical I can understand, but the stuff you have here is positively funeral.'

Their eyes met and held. 'So, teach me.'

'You're ready for this?'

'Yes.'

'For everything?'

She went hot and shivery all over. 'Music.'

'And then?'

She swallowed the restriction in her throat. 'And then I will know how to hum.'

He reached down and assisted Brianna to her feet. 'Sing Brianna,' he corrected. 'I'm going to teach you to sing.'

Harriet popped into Brianna's bedroom behind Emmaline. 'You have to admire his tenacity. When Jesse Lawless sets his mind on something, he doesn't let anything get in his way.'

'It's just a pity that he can't get that mind out of the bedroom.' Emmaline was taking a turn around the room, touching this and that when, from the corner of her eye, she spotted Harriet reaching for the lid of the chocolate box. 'Harriet! No!' She was over beside her friend in an instant and swatted Harriet's nimble fingers aside. 'The last time you tried candy, you broke out all over in hives.'

'I need something sweet, Emm.' Harriet's face was a study in misery.' I think I have hypoglycaemia or something. Truly.' She rolled her eyes until the whites showed in an unbecoming manner. 'I'm beginning to feel faint.'

'Harriet, you are such a ham.' Emmaline removed the chocolate box from out or harm's reach.

'Here,' Patrick offered, materializing at her side. Suspended between finger and thumb was a large square of perfectly formed honey comb, dripping great fat globules of sun-gilded nectar.

Harriet brought her hands together under her chin, eyes shining, saliva drooling. 'You are a mind reader.'

'Aren't we all.' Emmaline glanced down at the sticky comb. 'You appear to have a hitchhiker.'

An enormously fat honey bee was perched on one corner of the comb, its vivid stripes all fluffily indignant. Rotating its faceted eyes, it made a squeaky, high-pitched noise. If it could cross two of its many appendages, then it would have done so, and very haughtily indeed. It didn't take great wisdom to recognize that this bee was buzzing.

'Sorry, Bee,' Patrick offered with contrition. 'My mistake, I should have asked your Queen's permission first.' With a flick of his wrist, he sent the proprietary insect back to its heavenly hive and extended the now uninhabited cone to Harriet.

'This is more like it,' Harriet accepted with glee.

'When you're quite finished, Harriet, we need to get down to business. I think we need to offer some form of distraction.'

'Alrighty,' Harriet mumbled around a mouthful. 'It's crunch time. When the going gets rough...'

'Harriet, please! What we need is a plan, not bad rhetoric.'

'I might have a plan,' offered Patrick deferentially.

Harriet ran her tongue around her lips, savoring the last of her delicious treat. 'Tell us, Patrick,' she encouraged with her mouth full. 'Don't be shy.'

Emmaline's sigh was long suffering. She brought her hands up to waist height and held a deep porcelain bowl brimming with warm soap water beneath Harriet's sticky fingers. 'Wash up first,' she instructed. 'Then Patrick can tell as about this wonderful plan he has concocted.'

Patrick beamed from pointy, sticky-out ear to sticky-out ear. 'Don't you sometimes wish we could just wave a wand around and make things right?'

'We're guardian angels, not fairy godmothers. There isn't an instant answer to most of life’s knottiest problems. Film Heroes may solve insurmountable odds in the duration of one celluloid hour, but that is fantasy, not reality.' She gave him a placatory smile. 'I admit it would be nice if we could dial an 0800 number and have instant access to an answer wizard, but life just isn't that simple. As frustrating as it may be for us, humans have to be humans, warts and all. The plan for their lives is not found in a magazine next to the cookery tips or the horoscopes.'

'They'll make mistakes,' Patrick demurred.

'Don't we all?'

'We can't protect them from real life, Patrick,' Harriet pointed out in her gentler way. 'Why do you think we were sent here?'

'We are ministering spirits chosen to serve, and also testify by signs, wonders and various miracles the way to heaven.’

'Straight out of the text book,' she attested. 'However, any advice we tender is merely road signs, which, due to the vagrancies of human emotion, are not infallible. There is one vital ingredient still missing.'

'Unfailing Love?'

'It's Free Will. There may be dozens of steps that separate Jesse and Brianna from understanding the full extent of real love. Heaven will do everything possible to bring them home, but in the final analysis, Jesse and Brianna will have to take that last crucial step. If that weren't so, then they might well as be puppets dancing on invisible strings. Love is the constant companion of free will and both must be freely chosen. If we directly intervene, in even the smallest way to take away a person's freedom of choice, then we undo all that has set in place.'

Patrick made a wry face. 'It all seems so complicated.' He made a weaving pattern in the air. 'The dark side are not constrained by principles. They will do everything they can to undermine any good we accomplish. Can’t we dabble, just a tiny bit.'

Harriet passed her hand in the air and the bowl and towel disappeared. 'Wash your mouth out with soap, Patrick, my boy,' she censured, but her broad grin robbed the reprimand of any sting. 'Angels instruct, advise and guide, and where necessary, use truth as a sharpened stick to give a necessary prod in the rear end.' She struck a comic posture. 'Which brings us to your plan.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jesse took Brianna to eat at Mac Donald’s.

When he drew his Harley up outside the main entrance to the brightly lit family restaurant she stared in amazement. He followed her look and hid a twinge of discomfort. He had no idea what had made him decide on this place. The idea had come to him right out of the blue. Brianna deserved somewhere more up-market and he'd really have liked to wine and dine her in fitting style, but a restaurant of that type would be just the place any enterprising member of the paparazzi would expect him to patronize. Mac Donald’s might not be his first choice and it didn’t offer haute cuisine. But it made sense. Like Seth's cafe in Lyttelton, he hoped it would offer a certain degree of anonymity.

'Don't knock it,' he said, going on the defensive to justify his choice. 'You're hungry, right?'

She nodded.

'So, food's food.' He hefted the bike onto the main stand, grabbed for her hand and towed her toward the automatic doors.

In a building halfway across the busy city, a telephone rang.

‘Night Editor. Whatcha got?’ The man’s voice was muffled.

‘Jesse Lawless is out on the town with a woman. I’ve seen him minutes ago. Are you interested?’

‘Is this some sort of prank?’

The demon could hear the man scrabble for his pencil. Because it liked to inflict pain, it hissed, ‘Make up your mind. I know of plenty of others who would want this information. I’ll tell you where to find them, but first, you tell me how much are you going to pay me?’

The man named a sum. ‘Give me your contact number. If you information is on the level, I’ll send you a check.’

‘Cash!’ The money was irrelevant, but he could feel the man squirm, so he applied more pressure.

‘Cash is fine with me. Now, tell me where I’ll find him.’

‘Start writing.’

Typically for this time, the restaurant was packed with teenagers and family groups, talking noisily and consuming vast quantities of food. Brianna stuck to Jesse like glue, feeling as though she had a label stuck across the center of her forehead that identified her as an alien of sorts.

He pulled her to one side. 'You’re standing on my heels, doll. What's the matter?

'I've never been here before.'

The look he cast her was one of total disbelief. 'You're kidding right?'

Brianna managed a sheepish smile.

'Babe, you've never lived until you haven't eaten a Big Mac.' Feeling more in his element, Jesse placed their order, and when it came, he loaded her tray with a large container of golden fries, plastic cup brimming with iced coke and the promised hamburger packaged in its distinctive cardboard container. Brianna ate it all, enjoying every calorie-encrusted morsel.

'So, tell me,' he asked as he pushed his empty tray aside, retaining the waxed drinking container. 'How is it that you've never eaten at a Mac Donald’s restaurant before now?'

A wistful smile curled across her lips. 'Wrong place, wrong time, I guess.' She rotated her wrist in a lazy motion that encompassed the brightly-lit surroundings, with the distinctive double golden arched logo on prominent display. 'When I was a young and impressionable teenager, this restaurant wasn't even built.' She shrugged slightly. 'To be truthful, I've never even thought about coming here.'

'My, what a sheltered life you've led.'

'Oh, I don't know.' Brianna blew bubbles in her Coke through the red and white stripped plastic straw. 'Have you ever eaten Nerineri?'

'I don't think I can spell it, let alone know what it is.'

'It's camel meat dried over a dung fire.'

He choked as a mouthful of his own Coke as the effervescent liquid went down the wrong way. 'No, I can't say I've ever had the pleasure. I get your drift.'

'No problem.'

Jesse's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 'Why did you train as a doctor?'

Brianna leaned her chin on the heel of her hand. 'Because it's what I always wanted to do. Even when I was little, I spent hours nursing my dolls. Although,' she confessed with a giggle. 'There was a time after I'd seen "The Sound of Music", when I did consider becoming a nun.' Noticing the pained expression on his face, she laughed outright and flicked a crumb across the table toward him. 'Why do you look so surprised?'

'I'm trying to imagine you in a veil.'

'No, seriously.'

'Background, parents.' He assessed her levelly. 'I would have picked you for more the lawyer type, not someone who wants to heal the sick. Don't you have any regrets?'

'You know, Jesse, it's a dangerous practice pinning labels on people. I don't have any regrets.'

Jesse dipped his head as he conceded her point. 'Are you planning on going back to Somalia?'

'No.' Brianna settled back in her hard molded plastic chair, swinging it gently from side to side. A hint of regret crept into her voice. 'I picked up a parasitic bug that knocked me about for quite awhile. To be on the safe side, I'm waiting until next year to make absolutely sure the tests are clear before I start back in a hospital environment. I hate being idle, so until then I'm working for my grandfather part time and I want to concentrate more on my writing besides finishing the renovations on the cottage.' When he made a sound of condescension Brianna fixed him with a sharp look. 'Let me guess. You disapprove, right?'

His smile didn't slip, but it somehow seemed to tighten around the edges until it mocked her. 'You being a Princess and all, I would have thought you'd want to take time off to shop and gossip.'

Brianna held his stare by dint of sheer willpower. 'What I've achieved, I've worked hard for.'

The silence stretched between them until Jesse reached across the Formica table and squeezed her hand. 'I spoke out of turn. Put it down to guilt. Compared to the things you've done with your life, I feel as though I've spent my entire adult life pursuing my own pleasure.'

'There is nothing wrong with having a good time.'

Jesse took a few moments to digest this. 'Even when it becomes the focus of my life?'

'Maybe you're being too hard on yourself. Just because you like to party more than I, you shouldn't think that you and I are unlike.' She gave him a funny little smile that made her blue eyes twinkle. 'Everyone wants to be loved and to love others in return.'

'Damn it, Brianna, what gives you the right to sound so blasted superior?' He smacked his fist on the tabletop. 'I spent too much time having garbage like that hammered down my throat to believe it any more. I believe that love is the biggest cop out of all.

Jesse clenched his hand around the waxed Coke cup, crumpling the inoffensive vessel into a tight wad. Rivulets of brown liquid squelched through his fingers. The lines of his face drew into an expressive combination of evasion, suspicion and distrust. 'Life is hard, then you die. That's not very fair, but it's the end of the story.'

Brianna made a grab for the serviettes from the dispenser on top of a nearby stand. She handed over a wad to Jesse, utilizing the remainder to mop up the slushy mess he'd made on the table. 'Perhaps it's time for you to live your life out of the shadows.'

'And then?'

'You can find the courage to dream again. '

Jesse hooked a handful of hair behind his ear and rested his foot on the edge of the chair beside him. A tightly clenched fist decorated his bent knee. 'I hear you, don't get me wrong. 'Only, I'm not so idealistic. Unlike you, I didn't have parents who stood behind me.’ His shoulders hitched in a deceptively nonchalant gesture. ‘In fact, I was adopted.'

'Does that bother you?'

'It helps me to understand why my parents didn't love me.'

'They must have wanted you if they went to all the trouble of going through the process of adopting you.'

'Are you for real!' He shook his head at her in amazement. 'Happy families aren't something put up for sale in toy stores, alongside Barbie and Ken dolls.' He stabbed the table top viciously with the point of his Coke straw. 'Just because you lived in a world where people cared for their children, you shouldn't assume that all parents behave in the same fashion. People adopt kids for all sorts of reasons, as I found out to my cost.' He clenched his fist, destroying the straw. 'My mom was so desperate to have a baby it began to prey on her mind and she became severely depressed. My father was forced into go along with an adoption to keep her out of a sanitarium. They shopped around and got me for their money. Which, as it turned out, wasn't exactly their idea of the jackpot.' Jesse turned his face away and focused his gaze on the cars coming and going in Mac Donald’s car park. He was silent for a long time. 'Do you really want to hear all this?'

She recognized what he was asking of her. Jesse wasn’t the sort of man who opened up to others. That he was willing to do so to her told her more than his words. ‘I won’t force your hand. It has to be your choice, Jesse. '

'Yes.' The single word seemed weightier than stone. He extended his legs under the table and braced his elbows along the top of the bench seat behind him. 'Looking back, I have to admit that I was a difficult child to live with and hard to love. My parents...adoptive parents,' he amended in a hard tone. 'They were extremely conservative people who chose to live by a rigid set of moral rules and conventions that I found stifling. I always wanted to push the limits to see what was on the other side.'

Conservative people. Like her. Like her parents. ‘What sort of rules?' she queried neutrally.

'My father was a military man who believed that life should be lived by the military code of honor. As a high-ranking officer, his life revolved around keeping order and conformity. We moved around a lot, never staying longer on a base than a few years, so I didn't make friends easily.' He looked down at the circles he was describing with the tip of his finger on the tabletop. 'When I was around eight, against all the odds, my mother became pregnant. Even as young as I was, it didn't take me long to figure out that I came a distant second to the baby for their attention, not that there had been many of those to begin with.'

'It must have been difficult for you having to contend for affection.'

'A lot of people have told me that most of what happened between me and my parents was of my own making.'

'You were a child, Jesse. Fault doesn't lie at your door for behaving in a childish manner.'

He took a deep breath. 'I decided that if I acted up, I'd get them to notice me more. Up until then, my parents had made a show of being tolerant. They fed me, clothed me and even gave me a present on my birthday and at Christmas time. A book usually, or some clothing. I don't recall ever having been hugged or kissed. Not even when I fell out of a tree and broke my arm. All I got was a lecture on responsible behavior.' Unconsciously, the fingers of his right hand sought his left wrist, massaging an echo of a long forgotten pain. 'I didn't understand why they pushed me away, so I acted up some more. In the end, I became so unruly that when I was thirteen, they packed me off to a Military school in Mississippi, where it was hoped I would have some discipline and values instilled into my rebellious head. At the same time, they initiated court proceedings to have the adoption legally dissolved.'

Brianna's face mirrored her shock and disbelief. 'What a terrible thing to do to a child.'

'Yeah. It had a pretty funny side, though, 'cause up until then, I hadn't even known I was adopted. It seemed my adoptive parents didn't want me to carry their name least I bring disrespect or shame upon them at some distant time.' His face twisted in long buried anger that with the telling came rushing back with all its vile potency. 'For twisted reasons of their own, they saw it as their duty to continue supporting me financially, so they paid for my education. Their money bought me five years of pure hell.' His face creased into a grimace. 'The instructors were particularly hard on me, something for which I'm certain my father was responsible.’ He fingered some of his hair in an ascent gesture. ‘One of the first things they did to help me see the value of conforming to their standards was to shave off my hair. During term break, I mostly went to camp or stayed at the school. Just after my seventeenth birthday, my adoptive father died and he willed a large inheritance to Jason, my brother. I received a letter informing me of this, and the fact that my father had lodged a caveat denying me any right of claim against his estate, due to what he considered the illegitimate and unsavory circumstances of my birth. That's when I decided I didn't owe the bastard anything and I when I turned eighteen, I legally changed my surname to one of my own choosing. When I graduated military school, the family gave me enough money to take me through college on the sole condition that I didn't try and make any further contact with them. I figured I deserved something for the crap I'd been given at that school, so I took their money and I never went back.'

The loneliness was there. And deep pain. As a doctor, Brianna had learned that there were some wounds dealt to a child, that if left unattended, never healed. She reached across and took hold of his hand, held it tight. 'It was a cruel thing to do to you, Jesse. You deserved better.'

Her sympathy ate at the protective walls he had erected, in much the same way hot water melts colored Jell-O. He made a rude sound to disguise the depth of his feelings, but he left his hand in hers.

'I learned to take care of myself. As soon as I got shot of the Academy I kicked over the traces and went to a college of my own choice. I partied hard, made my own rules, scraping through with enough credit to get my degree in electrical engineering.' He'd expected her surprise and wasn't disappointed. 'Huh, that put wrinkles in you pantyhose, didn't it, babe? I bet you thought it was going to be in Kung Fu, or some other darned thing?' He jerked his shoulders in a who-could-care-less gesture. 'I decided that I didn't want to get stuck in a nine-to-five job, so I headed for Alaska and the oil fields where the big money was for the taking and a man could come and go as he pleased. Since then, I've bummed around, been all over and done some pretty crazy things. I learned to play guitar and keyboard and played the club circuit for a time. Along the way, I've made a lot of money and spent a good deal of it. Women love a man who's buying, so I usually had a warm bed.'

Brianna made a sour face.

'Don't take this personally, babe, it's just a story.'

'You mistake me. I'm suitably impressed, but not enough to tumble into your vacant bed. What are your plans now?'

'Besides seducing you?'

'Yes,' she countered tartly. 'Besides that.'

'I've answered that for you already. I'm on holiday, sort of.'

She rolled her eyes heavenward. 'Oh, excuse me. On holiday, sort of. What sort of answer is that?'

Jesse bent across the little table, narrowing the gap until they were lip to lip. He bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. 'It's the only one you're getting.'

'Tell me.' She brushed the back of his hand with tentative fingers. 'Please.'

A muscle worked in his jaw. 'I'm going to look for my birth mother. Last year, when I was in... when I had some time on my hands, I initiated a search for her. All I knew about her was what my father had told me - that my birth mother had been a teen drug addict and prostitute. After some creative persuasion, the family gave me the name of the law firm that had handled the adoption. Unfortunately, by that time the lawyer who had acted for the family had died. Because the adoption had been handled privately, and not through a national agency, it took some time to trace her to New Zealand.' The look he fired her was belligerent. 'How would you feel if you knew your own mother had sold your for a few dollars to support her habit?'

Brianna studied his tightly drawn expression. 'Do you think confronting her will help you find some family roots?'

'You're joking, right?' He inhaled sharply. 'All I want from her is to know why she abandoned me.' Sadness crept into his voice, underlain with bitterness

Tears clouded her eyes, tears that Jesse had never cried.

'Don't get all sentimental on me, Brianna,’ Jesse warned, seeing the shimmer of moisture in her eyes. 'This isn't going to be a warm, fuzzy family reunion.'

'Can I help in any way?'

‘I’ll do this alone and my way.’ In a flash, his arm snaked out and he drew her part way out of her chair and toward him. 'But there is something you can do that will make me feel a whole lot better.'

'Such as?'

'You can come back to my place and we could play doctor and patient. That will help me forget my painful youth.'

She laughed a little, glad to see him back to his normal, lecherous self. ‘'Forget it. I'm pretty sure the variations of the game you have in mind will stretch my bedside manner to its limits.'

'I'll change your mind one day.' He swooped and branded her mouth with a kiss that stole away most of her vacillating willpower.

Now was the time. It moved swiftly, pushing his pawn into the best position.

From out of nowhere, a light bulb flashed repeatedly, blinding them. Jesse swore viciously and released Brianna immediately. He shielded his face with his hand.

Startled by the violence of his reaction, Brianna glanced around to locate to source of the flash. She pointed across the crowded room. 'Relax. It's just someone taking photo's at that child's birthday party.'

The look he swept around the room was flat and haunted, just as though he had been ripped open and something precious stolen from him. 'Yeah, right,' he muttered. When the flash had gone off, he had wanted to race over, grab the camera and smash it into a million pieces. Brianna might believe it was only a harmless party snap, but past experience had taught him to expect the worst. Time for them, it seemed, was fast running out. Once she knew the truth about him, he knew she wouldn't be able to stand being near him, and who could blame her?

It sort of spooked me for a second. ‘It's been a long day, babe,' he said, skirting the truth. 'If you've finished, let's cut out of here.’

Brianna woke the next morning to the intrusive jangle of the telephone. Expecting a repeat performance on yesterday, she groped for the receiver, fumbling it to her ear. 'Hello, Jesse,' she said with a ready smile of expectation in her sleep-husky voice.

'Brianna?'

She almost swallowed her tongue. ‘Dale!' She fumbled the telephone to her other ear and used her right hand to sweep a tumble of hair back from her face. I was expecting someone else.'

‘I hope I haven't disturbed you, only, I did ring you a couple of time's yesterday.'

'I went to the beach.' Guilt tied her stomach in knots and sent color into her cheeks.

'You picked a great day for it. Maybe we could do that together sometime soon. I'm just checking to see if you are free tonight. There is a new movie out, which I thought you'd like to take in.'

'Dale, I can't,' she told him, making very certain her voice conveyed the right amount of regret. 'I'm already going to dinner with my parents.' Which was the truth. Only, she had been hoping she could persuade Jesse to accompany her.

If he was put out, he didn't sound it. 'That's okay.' He cleared his throat. 'I thought I might drop around later.'

'Today?'

‘You mentioned last week that you had a leak beneath your kitchen sink, remember? I can come over this morning and check it.'

A leak! Her whole world was spinning out of orbit and Dale wanted to fix the plumbing. 'Sure, thanks,' she agreed without an ounce of enthusiasm. A light began to flash red on the console of her telephone, warning Brianna that she had a call waiting. 'Dale, I hate to rush you, but I have a call on the other line,’ she told him, unashamedly using the summons as an excuse for cutting short their conversation. ‘I'll see you later.'

'Sure. Bye, Brianna.'

She depressed the button that cut Dale's call and made a stab for the flashing light. 'Yes, hello!'

'You okay?'

'Jesse?' She expelled a breath.

'Well, I'm not the sandman, that’s for sure.’ There was a tight sound in Jesse's voice. ‘You took your sweet time answering?'

'I was talking on another line.' Wide-awake, Brianna reached across for the pillow on the bed beside her and clutched it to her chest. She felt she needed to hold on to something, anything, to keep her grip on reality.

His laugh was throaty, the sound sending shivers down her spine. 'I didn't get much sleep, babe, and its all your fault.'

She smiled to herself. 'Jesse, do you think it is possible for us to have any sort of conversation where you aren't propositioning me within the first five minutes?'

'Blue-eyes.' He breathed a thousand threats into the appellation, all of them impossibly wonderful. 'How can you put a man down like that? It's hard enough for me imagining what it would be like to be a sheet, wrapped tight around your body.' His low laughter scorched the telephone cable. 'Do you want to go somewhere tonight.'

She pushed herself upright and finger combed the hair out of her eyes. 'I'm sorry, I'm already going out to dinner, but...'

'Are you dating another guy, blue-eyes?' he interjected, without giving Brianna time to finish her halting explanation. The tone of his voice hardened enough to temper steel.

'I didn't know you demanded exclusive rights,' she came back, annoyed by the tone of his voice. He offered a succinct curse in reply. Before she had time to say anything more in her defense, the phone practically reverberated as he slammed his end down. Brianna stared in consternation at the handset for long seconds before she fumbled it back onto the cradle. It seemed that Jesse didn't like competition, real or imagined.

A short time later, dressed in a paint bespattered work shirt, Brianna emerged from her bedroom. Her nerves were as frayed as the hem of her shorts.

'Hello, dear,' the Angels chirruped in unison from their positions at the dining table, their curiously birdlike eyes glittering in animated faces.

Tempted to cut and run, Brianna about faced, but they were too quick off the mark for her.

'Such a lovely day,' said Harriet, placing a restraining hand on Brianna's arm.

Emmaline nodded her agreement. 'We have some time free,' she told Brianna. 'We were wondering if you would mind if we had a potter in your garden.'

'Why..uh. No. I mean yes.'

For a fleeting moment Brianna wondered if she was in the midst of some bizarre dream. Angels pulling weeds, dragons breathing fire and Lancelot-the-handyman intent on invading her space with the sole purpose of plumbing her drains. So it was that quarter of an hour later Brianna had the Angels settled in the inner courtyard garden, their matronly middles swathed in serviceable aprons. She was half-heartedly slapping primer on the underside of the eaves when she heard a familiar baritone hale her from the pavement. She turned and lifted her dripping paintbrush in a wave.

'Dale, hello.'

Dale Harding dismounted and maneuvered his custom built twenty-one speed road bicycle across her compact front yard. Shiny and sleek, it was quite a machine, the envy of many a sports enthusiast. But it wasn't a Harley. Brianna set the brush on the open can and began to descend a rung to meet him.

'Stay there, Brianna,' he told her as he propped his bicycle against the adjoining garage.

'You're sure? I can easily put all this away and lend a hand in the kitchen?'

'No need. I've brought my own tools and I can manage on my own.' He indicated the leather satchel suspended from one burly shoulder. 'I'll head inside and take a look at the leak.'

'There are Angels in the courtyard garden.' Dale shot her a peculiar look. Realizing how silly she must have sounded, she reiterated, 'Harriet and Emmaline Angel. They're my guests.'

Dale went inside and Brianna ascended the ladder. Not more than five measly minutes passed before she heard the unmistakable growl of the Harley's powerful engine, signaling Jesse's imminent arrival. A tremble started in her legs, turning her knees to castanets. She took the coward's way out and feigned intense interest in the eaves.

'Hello, darlin'.'

Brianna stopped ruining the woodwork long enough to slant Jesse a cool glance, which she immediately regretted as he wore his most engaging grin. Trapped by the charm, she found it hard to sustain her pretended indifference. She coughed to clear a lump from her throat as she looked down on his upturned face, adding a lame, 'Hello.'

'Need a hand?'

‘No.’ She slapped the brush roughly against the wood, making more of a mess.

'I've made a damned fool of myself, haven't I?' His soft laugh was tinged with irony.

She'd expected hostility from him, but not humility. The traitorous rhythm of heart accelerated rapidly and she willed herself to maintain a dignified silence.

'I'm sorry, I swear.' He solemnly placed his hand over his rat-bag heart.

'I hated it when you hung up like that,' she told him in a fierce undertone and shook her paintbrush at his head.

Jesse yipped and neatly side-stepped the shower of paint. 'Come on babe, you were stringing me along just for the hell of it.'

'I was not!’ She bristled with indignation. The ladder wobbled and she gripped the sides hard to keep from falling off. Icicles formed on each syllable as she drew herself up to her full aristocratic five foot four inches. ‘You need to do something about your manners. To say nothing about your temper.'

'Stamp your foot, darlin' and ride me for all it's worth.’ Damn, but he loved it when she sparked. He could see her curls almost crackle with vitality and her eyes lit up just like clear and beautiful windows to her soul. ‘I behaved like a fool and deserve a dressing down.' Very deliberately he placed one foot on the bottom rung and began to climb.

'What are you doing?' An edge of panic pushed her voice up a few notches.

‘I would be delighted to go to dinner with you.'

'I didn't ask you.' Quickly shifting the paint tin a rung above her, she scuttled upward. 'Now, get off my ladder.'

'But, you were going to and I'm coming anyway.' His grin was unrepentant and up he climbed, two rungs, then six, until he was practically breathing up her bare legs. From here, he knew he could have slid his palms right up under the ragged hem of her shorts and explored forbidden territory. He'd bet that if he did, she'd be up that ladder faster than a scalded cat. The devil took hold, he swore, and just to prove his theory, he walked his fingers up along her golden calf.

Properly raised, good living and God fearing she might be, but Brianna would need to have been numb from the neck down not to feel a response. Throwing caution to the wind, she scrambled across the narrow verandah roof on all fours, pushing the can of paint before her. She was certain the manufacturers of her color steel roofing tiles hadn't intended in their lifetime guarantee that she use their product as a race track. Half way across the roof, she chanced a swift glance across her shoulder and found him hard on her heels. Dragons could fly, so climbing across a roof presented him with little challenge.

'You are becoming a pain in the¾.'

‘Is that any way for a well brought up girl to talk?' He reached her side and removed the paint tin that she had been dragging along behind her. 'Allow me.' He set the tin aside. 'Am I forgiven?'

He was totally exasperating and she told him so in no uncertain terms.

His laugh told her he'd heard it all before.

Brianna plunked her backside down on the warm roofing, dangling her legs over the side. Jesse followed suit. Whether by accident or design, as he swung his long legs over the edge his booted foot dislodged the ladder. In utter disbelief, Brianna peered over the side of the house, following the ladder's inevitable descent into her garden, where it partially flattened a row of flowering polyanthus. Switching her eyes back to Jesse's face, innocent in its expression, she narrowed them in warning.

'You did that on purpose.'

He raised his hands, palms upward. 'Not true.'

'You did and now we're trapped,' she pointed out, sotto voce.

'Nice day for it though, wouldn't you say?'

Determined to remain calm and collected, she crossed her legs at the ankles and primly folded her hands in her lap. 'Just what do you propose now?'

'Heck, darlin'.' Jesse settled back on one elbow and pitched his tone to a honeyed drawl. 'You aren't afraid of heights, now are you?'

Wordlessly, she shook her head.

'Relax, then.' He shifted his hip into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes, looking for the entire world as though he had nothing better to do with his time. 'Sit back and watch the world go by. Spit a little.'

'Is that you're idea of a joke?'

'What's the matter?' he asked, and widened his golden dragon eyes in feigned amazement. 'Didn't you learn to aim spit balls at the school for Princesses?'

Visions of school blazers, dignified surroundings, and kind but stern teachers filled her mind. Despite her resolve, a giggle escaped. 'No spit balls.'

As he stretched, his thigh brushed against hers.

The spark was there.

Below the surface and damped down a little, but still combustible. He'd come around here hell for leather, fully expecting to find someone else making a play for his woman and been prepared to put up a fight to protect his claim. They had covered too much ground for him to relinquish first prize at this late stage.

'Have you got a better suggestion?'

'I meant to be finishing the painting.' Distracted by the heat and smell and feel of him as he pressed against her, Brianna's answer sounded more a petulant grumble.

'Can't.' Jesse pushed himself upright and peered down at the ground, as if the thought had just occurred to him. 'We have no ladder.'

'So it would seem.' Brianna had to smile. He looked...cute, just like a naughty boy with purloined chocolate smeared across his unrepentant grin, claiming innocence of any wrongdoing.

'Here, catch,' he ordered and tossed her the small package he'd extracted from his shirt pocket.

She caught it neatly, giving him a sharp, suspicious look. 'What's in it?'

'That's Pandora's question.' The faintest trace of amusement made his eyes gleam. 'You don't like me giving you presents?'

'If you really want to know the truth, your gifts remind me a little of the wolf spider!'

'Well, thank you kindly, ma'am. I hope that's a step up from a bastard.'

She shot him a glare hot enough to fry his cocky ego. ‘The wolf spider always gives the female a gift of sorts when he comes courting.'

'Sounds familiar.' He made an amused sound. 'Must have made the same darned fool agreement you forced on me.'

'The gift is usually a trick.’ She waggled the package under his nose. ‘Most often it is empty, or he steals it back when he has got what it was he wanted.'

'Not much chance of that happening with us is there? I can't even get past first base.’ He exaggerated a sigh. ‘Look, I promise you can keep the damned thing if you like it. So open it, will you?'

Perversity slowing her hand movements, Brianna prized apart the tape and unwrapped his gift. Surprise was written across her features when she saw that he had given her an abridged version of A.A Milne's "Winnie-the-Pooh" poems, miniaturized and beautifully illustrated with pen and ink drawings. 'It's lovely,' she said, and meant it. 'Thank you, but why?'

'I'm just trying to be romantic.'

Brianna glanced down at the ladder and laughed. 'Let's face it, you're idea of romance is to drag a woman into your cave and seduce her.'

'I've had no complaints, so far.' Lazily, he leaned back on his elbows. 'What sort of things push your button?' he asked as tactfully as a jackhammer pounding holes in the pavement.

'Are you being serious?'

'Sure.' He made a vague gesture in the air with his hand. ‘If I wanted to please you, what would you like me to do?'

Brianna deliberated for a moment. 'I'd like it if we spent more time talking.'

'The gossipy-woman kind, or something more deep and meaningful?'

'Men are just as bad at gossiping as women, so don't take that line.’ She gave him a repressive look that bounced off his thick hide. ‘I prefer to call it having quality time.'

'I’ll bear that in mind. Do me a favor, will you, blue-eyes?'

'Depends. If it's the one I see written all over your face, then no way.'

'Just call it a whim.' He straightened and picked up her hand. 'I have a proposition for you.'

'Again.'

He ignored that. 'I'll rescue you if you'll come out with me to a fancy shindig next week.'

It was hardly what she'd expected, but then, in the few short days since she had met him, she had come to recognize that nothing Jesse said or did was at face value. She distrusted his smile as much as she suspected his motives. 'Why?'

'I need a partner.'

'Okay, but turn and turn about,' she said and concocted a smile of sweet innocence. 'If you come with me tonight, no matter where I want to go, and get me down off the roof in one piece, I'll force myself to go with you.'

'That's two conditions to my one.'

'Take it or leave it.' She should have learnt by now that if she gave Jesse an inch and he would hang her with the rope.

'I'll take it,' he assured with a little-boy grin.

And then he jumped.

'Jesse!' Fear pounding blood along her frozen veins, she bent dangerously forward over the edge and watched with horror as he hit the ground on bent legs, rolled head over heels and lay still.

Oh God, please don't let him die.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Against all the odds, Jesse stirred and rolled onto his back.

To her utter amazement, without so much as a sign of injury, he lunged to his feet with more zest than Lazarus newly arisen from the grave. Legs firmly straddled, he tipped his head back, the grin that wreathed his wicked face unrepentant.

'Did I mention that I once did a spell as a stunt man?'

'I hate you!' Incensed by his trickery, she leaned further forward than was safe and lost her balance. Arms wind milling wildly, Brianna tumbled into space.

'Gotcha!'

The impact knocked most of the wind out of Brianna's lungs, stifling her startled yelp. An eternity seemed to pass before she could open her eyes and peer into his face.

The dragon was laughing.

She might have killed herself, no thanks to him, and he thought it was a huge joke.

He hitched her higher and the rasp of his tongue against her lips made him hungry for more. 'That's the trouble with you. Can't sit still for one second without getting yourself into trouble. Where would you be without me to look after you?'

A discrete cough destroyed the moment.

Jesse's curse was intertwined with Brianna's gasp. Brianna's head snapped up. It connected sharply with his mouth, painfully forcing his bottom teeth into the fleshy part of his top lip. He swung around so fast anyone would think he had a spider up the leg of his faded denims.

Noting the cool expression on Dale's face, Brianna didn't know whether to laugh or hide her face. Rightly guessing what conclusion Jesse had arrived at from Dale’s presence in her home, she wanted both feet back on the ground before she had to explain herself. The situation only went from bad to worse when the Angels made their unhurried appearance on the scene, inquisitive eyes not missing a single, damning detail.

Hackles raised and hormones raging, Jesse didn't so much as move a muscle as he sized up this stranger standing with too much familiarity in Brianna's front garden. With the instinctive inner sense of a predator, he recognized that this modern day Hercules was the competition he had so rightly feared. The guy might be built like a tank, with biceps to die for, but Jesse considered Brianna to be his woman, and no hyped-up jock was going to score in his patch. Even if he had to shed blood to prove it. They stood off from each other, for all the world like two hunters about to do battle over a tasty treat.

The tasty treat in question was not impressed.

'OK hero,' she said in an undertone. 'You can put me down now.'

Jesse ignored Brianna. He asked, 'Can I help you?'

All six foot four inches of Dale Harding's brawn and rock solid muscles tensed. 'Is this man bothering you, Brianna?'

Of course he was bothering her! Good grief, he'd been bothering her from the moment she had injured him.

'It's not what it seems,' she replied. 'Jesse was rescuing me from the roof. I...we were trapped up there after the ladder fell.'

Despite Dale’s many fine traits, he could be taciturn if he chose and this was one of those moments. Between his superior attitude and Jesse's smirk, she wished she were back on the roof.

Master of any situation, Jesse timed it so the tension reached pinging-point before he let Brianna slide from his arms. He made a proprietary show of adjusting the set of her top, which had crept upwards.

Batting away his hands, for a wild instant, Brianna felt like killing him.

Slowly.

Better still, she would roast his delectable carcass over white-hot coals, but only after she had cut out his rascally heart.

'Why don't you finish whatever business you have with the tradesman, darlin'.' With supreme indifference to the glare she shot him, Jesse bent and gave her a hard, fast kiss of ownership, all for show. As he sauntered past Dale, he flicked him a curt nod of dismissal. Brianna followed his departing back , watching as he stopped to offer one crooked elbow to Miss Harriet and the other to Miss Emmaline. 'Ladies,' he said, at his most urbane. Without a backward glance, he escorted the Angels in through the open front door.

The shuffle of Dale Harding's size eleven feet, shod in expensive, brand name trainers, snapped her attention back and she offered a tentative smile. 'I owe you an explanation.'

'It might help.'

She lifted her hands up half way, then let them fall back to hang limply by her sides. 'I wanted to tell you properly this morning, but it didn't seem like the right moment.’ A minute of strained silence trickled past before he asked, 'How long have you known him?'

‘A week.'

'That’s not long, by any standards. Are you sure about what you're doing, Brianna?'

She sighed and raked a hand through her hair, offering an apologetic glance. 'I'm truly sorry if I've hurt you in any way.'

Dale studied her face. 'We've been friends a long time. I had hoped we could be more.'

Brianna shut her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them and met his gaze, she read confusion and distress. She hated herself for having been the cause of both. ‘You deserve fireworks, Dale.' Brianna reached out her hand, squeezing his.

'There's more to a building relationship than fireworks.'

'I thought so too, until I met Jesse.' Her shrug was apologetic. ‘He lights up my life.'

Beneath hers, Dale's fingers clenched, then gradually relaxed. 'I won't stand in your way, but if you ever have cause to need me, as a friend or anything else, all you have to do is ask. Jesse Lawless is a wild card. If he hurts you like he did his¾.'

'Don’t say it,’ she said, cutting him off mid-sentence. Genuine relief fueled her smile and she pulled her hand free, touched his cheek with a finger. ‘You don't hate me?'

'Of course I don't hate you.' He bent his head to skim a quick kiss across her mouth. 'For old-times sake,' he said. 'Are we still friends?'

'Yes.' This was a paltry crumb and Brianna swallowed the tightness in her throat.

With a brief smile, he turned and walked away. Brianna waited as he collected together his tools and stowed them in his backpack before getting his bike from the garage. She returned his wave as he left, waiting until after his departure to exhale. The upcoming confrontation with Jesse and his rampant hormones made something as sensitive as ending a relationship with Dale seem like kindergarten play.

'Jesse?' A cursory glance into the kitchen and living area drew a blank. Through the dining windows she saw the bent backed figures of the Angels pottering again in her garden. At the sound of her voice, they turned and waved and she waved back. Moving through the cottage, Brianna called his name again. Jesse’s answering shout came from the direction of her bedroom. Where else, she thought fatalistically as she went in search of her nemesis.

Jesse and matters concerning the bedroom were synonymous.

He was sprawled across her queen-sized bed. The creamy eye-let lace cover and frothy canopy made an incongruous backdrop for his dragonish smile, faded denims riding low on his hips, and dusty boots. Against the frills and furbelows, he looked a hungry male animal, unrestrained.

'Having trouble tearing yourself away from muscle-man?' He hitched himself off the bed and cocked a thumb in the direction of the front garden.

Brianna was certain she could smell the testosterone.

'You're being ridiculous!'

'I saw him kiss you!'

'You were watching me out of the window!' Brianna narrowed her eyes into fissures of rebellion. 'How low can you get?'

'I don't share.'

‘Go beat your club elsewhere.’ Her hair, which had come all loose from the braid she had restrained it in earlier that morning, curled and crackled in a wild halo around her head. ‘I make my own decisions and I choose my own friends.'

'You offered me your bed. That gives me rights.'

She ground her teeth. 'I did not!'

'Maybe not in so many words, but your eyes don't lie, sugar. They were begging for me before lover boy showed up.'

'He's not my lover, and neither are you.'

Sounds outside the room penetrated; the strident chirrup of a cricket, the drum of a car engine as it entered the street, and the distant steady thump of a hammer on wood. Neither of them cared. For all it mattered, a platoon of armed soldiers could have marched through the room at that precise moment and they would have had eyes and ears only for each other.

'You and I have been lovers in every sense save one since the first moment we kissed.'

The velvety roughness of his voice was as seductive as though he had touched her intimately. She wrapped her arms around her waist defensively. 'I won't be just another notch on your bed post.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' He swept the hair away from his face and held it up off his neck with tense hands. 'To put it mildly so I won't burn your shell like ears, I'm as frustrated as hell. Let's face it, Brianna, you turn me inside out and I'm getting to be so horny that I can't sleep nights.' Jesse's pause was fraught with tension. 'It's been almost a week.'

'That's not very long.'

'Like hell it's not!' He muttered an imprecation, which sounded blasphemous. 'A week around you without getting it off is a very, very, very long time.'

He was so uptight, his aquiline buccaneer's face was drawn into expressive lines of discomfort. Despite the gravity of the situation, Brianna began to laugh.

A reluctant smile chased itself around his eyes. 'Before I take my randy hide back to my place to have a cold shower, tell me what exactly it is we are doing tonight?'

'Uh, let's see.' She held up her hand and began to tick items off one by one. 'First, dinner. Did I mention that my grandparents will be there, as well a good friend of mine, and her husband?'

'No.' He folded his arms across his chest and waited for what he expected would be worse.

She cocked her head. 'It's not too late to pull out, you know. I can just as easily go with Dale.'

'Don't push your luck, babe. Just tell me the score.'

'What makes you think there's more.' He growled and she grinned, feeling wonderfully light-headed. 'Okay. Keep your pants on.' Once said, it became impossible for Brianna not to drift her eyes down over his torso, visually caressing his skin.

'I'm going to give you to the count of three, Brianna. If you haven't got your eyes back up where they belong, then I'm going to tumble you right where you stand.'

She managed a weak smile. 'After dinner, we have tickets to a concert at the Town Hall.'

'What sort of concert?'

'Madam Butterfly.'

'Ma...! Promise me that Madam Butterfly isn't some pouncy ballet.'

She couldn't contain her laughter. 'It's one of Puccini's operas.'

'Sounds more like some kind of new-age pretzel.'

'It's hardly in the same class as a performance by Joe Cocker, or what's his name?' She snapped her fingers and supplied, 'Bruce Stringbean.'

Imps of devilment cavorted on his keen corsair's face. 'You can take that snooty look off your face, because I can manage that high-brow stuff for one night.' He waggled a finger under her nose. 'For your information, Miss Smarty-pants, his name is Bruce Springsteen. Otherwise known as "The Boss".'

She feigned surprise. 'I thought that was Elvis.'

'Elvis, babe, is The King.'

'Well, tonight we'll have to make do with Dame Malvina Major, one of New Zealand's best known divas. You'll enjoy listening to her.'

'Yeah, sure,' he replied without a shred of confidence. 'I hope you're not expecting me to wear some damned monkey suit.'

Now, that she'd kill to see. 'Would you?'

'I'll wear anything you want, if you promise to take it all off for me at the end of the evening.'

‘Nice try, Jesse.'

He tugged her close. 'Give me a kiss and I'll leave you in peace.'

Brianna saw the purposeful gleam in those heavy-lidded dragon eyes and she drew in a swift breath. She laid her hand on his cheek, feeling the scratchy growth of day old bristles beneath her fingers. 'Is that the only thing you want from me?'

'What else are you offering?'

'More than one night.'

'That went off much better than I expected. I was sure that Jesse and Dale were going to come to blows. Men can be such silly creatures when they allow their hormones to rule their heads. However, Brianna and Jesse seem to have come to an agreement of sorts and Jesse's gone along home.'

Emmaline dug the tip of her hand trowel into the soil, rooting for a stubborn weed. 'Ah, good. Stage Two of our little plan.'

Harriet dusted off a decorative rock and sat down. 'Which means we have some time to ourselves.'

Emmaline presented Harriet with her back. 'Please be a dear and scratch my back for me, Harriet. Just between the wings. Ah..., lovely. They do get so cramped tucked up like this.' She looked across her shoulder at her friend. 'Is everything ready?'

Harriet was mildly affronted by the question. 'Of course.'

Emmaline straightened her back and readjusted her paisley print dress. 'That feels much better. Now, there is enough time for us to finish up here and perhaps have a glass of beebread.'

'Good thinking.' Harriet passed Emmaline a broom. 'You sweep and I'll go pour.'

Before the first droplet hit the bottom of the glass, Patrick erupted into the garden, wings and dignity all aquiver. 'Loo.. look out,' he wheezed, gesticulating frantically.

Emmaline conjured up a third glass, filled it and handed it across. 'Drink this,' she commanded pressing the glass into his shaking hands. 'Then tell us whatever is the matter?'

'Perhaps I can shed some light for you.'

Emmaline and Harriet started, words of horror forming on their lips at the appearance of the magnificent creature that had alighted with a flourish of its spanned wings in the middle of the enclosed garden. Half-human, half beast in appearance, the creature's manly features were so heart-stoppingly beautiful that they knew to gaze upon its countenance for too long could dangerously mesmerize. Its scaled hide and hind quarters were fashioned in polished ebony and its hooven feet, as with its winged appendages, were obsidian, surmounted with faceted black diamonds that swallowed sunlight.

The creature dissected the Angels with a glare of brooding malevolence. 'What a charming spectacle. Two wrinkled crones and a cowering idiot. No wonder we find your Master so easy to vanquish,' it said with in smirk. 'Is the best He has to offer against Lucifer's might and splendor, the like of you three?'

Gone in half an instant were the permed and wrinkled figures, both elder Angels assuming their true Celestial proportions. Flaming swords held high in firm, sure hands, golden breast plates of armor glinting, they turned as one to confront this deadliest of intruders. Not made of such stern stuff, being a novice in the art of spiritual warfare, the glass Patrick had been clutching slipped between nerveless fingers and he scuttled behind Emmaline's outstretched wings.

'Begone foul pretender!' Harriet took a firm stance before the creature, recognizing the demon that lurked beneath the illusionary splendor. 'You will find no welcome here, no matter what guise you choose to hide your foulness beneath.'

The devil's henchman laughed and clapped its mighty hands, creating a sound like the roll of thunder roll. 'Oh wonderful. Truly wonderful. Look, I am quaking in fear.'

Emmaline brought her sword blade down, aimed and loosening a bolt, that had the appearance of jagged lightening, which struck hard and true, piercing the evil angel's bosom. 'Fear that, demon. No matter what you may say or do, our Master will reign supreme.' She dissected the being with steely eyes. 'You are getting desperate because Jesse's heart is softening. Why else would you choose to show yourself now?'

The creature staggered back beneath the attack, but kept its footing. A sneer marred the perfection of its features. 'He may weaken, but you will not dislodge us so easily.' Regaining its balance, it shook out its wings in a gesture of defiance. The black diamonds rattled and clashed, sparking points of intense darkness.

'Have courage,’ Emmaline said as she reached behind her and drew a cowering Patrick to her side. 'Evil cannot withstand the forces of good, no matter what splendid guise it assumes. Take up your sword,' she instructed. 'Let us stand together in the fight. If we should fall, others will take our place.'

'I am fearful,' Patrick whispered, lowering his eyes in shame.

'You are not alone. I also feel fear, but Satan's minions are like roaring lions, roaming around looking for something to destroy. Our Master is stronger than they are. He has already defeated the forces of evil and thrown them from His heaven. Remember that, and have faith.'

'Don't listen to her, fledgling. Look at me. Am I not more beautiful than her? Come.' The creature held out a clawed hand toward Patrick and flexed his wings so that the black diamonds dazzled. 'You can serve me and I will make you great.'

'Ah, no. Thank you.' Half-heartedly, Patrick raised the tip of the sword that had somehow found its way into his untrained hand. 'No offense or anything, you understand, but I'm with them.'

'We stand together, creature.' Skirting Emmaline, Harriet took up a place on Patrick's other side. The Angels locked arms and advanced, swords held high before them.

The demon gathered its combined might, screaming, and cursing at their defiance. Instead of attacking head on, it feinted several times to break their united defense. Failing in this, it launched itself upon them with ferocious intent.

The Angels stood their ground, taking a horrendous battering. Lanced by pain, wounded and weakened, they waited until the enemy had begun to falter, and then they gathered the remains of their strength, striking the demon repeatedly with body blows. Cursing and reviling, it disappeared under them, its polished body twisting in an effort to find purchase. Seizing the opportunity, the Angels were all over it, dragging it down and ripping its splendid form apart. Blood and flesh flew in the frenzy of attack as the demon's shape began to come apart. The mauled body split open, arms and legs flailing uselessly wide in limp surrender. From within, four small things, deformed and winged, slithered upward, desperate in their effort to break free from the carnage of their former self. Ready for this last attack, Harriet caught them in her fist, her hand snapping tightly around their elongated necks. She struck the ground with her foot, rendering a meter long gap. When they saw the gaping cut in the earth the demons gave a single, horrified shriek and began to gibber for mercy.

Harriet hardened her heart and her ears to their desperate cries. Long ago, these creatures had chosen whom they would serve, and to this merciless and unforgiving master their fate was now consigned. She knew with a dreadful certainty that the Overlord of Hades did not deal well with servants unwise enough to fail. Knowing this, and feeling pity, she also recognized that if she let the demons go free, they would hide and heal. Although it would take time; a century, perhaps more, they would combine and return. The world would never be free from Legion’s evil reach unless its presence was totally obliterated from this world. With a sure movement, she drove the creatures back into the bowls of hell from whence they had been summoned. There came the sound of rock tearing rock as the earth closed over, evil once more being consumed by the grave.

Emmaline searched the spot where the creatures had disappeared. Stepping across the wound in the soil, she placed her arm around Harriet's shoulder and gave her comrade a comforting hug.

'Well then,' she said and transformed herself as before into the plump, bespeckled Emmaline Angel. Even in her human guise, the cuts and bruises that decorated her arms and face were undisguised. 'That was an interesting little episode, but I think we've wasted enough time here.' She drew in a deep breath. 'This battle is won, but we have yet to win the war.' She took a step away, hesitated, then turned a stern expression on Patrick. 'Put your sword away, boy,' she instructed, signaling toward the blade hanging limp from Patrick's bloodied hand. 'It's not a toy, you know. You might do someone a nasty injury with that thing.' She gave Harriet a grave look. 'We will have to ask the Archangel to give Patrick some weapons training. What good will the boy be to us on our next assignment if he ends up with a dagger point between his fine angel eyes? Now, let’s put some salve on these cuts and think about what to do next. Our little skirmish will have alerted the rest of the enemy. Reinforcements will be here soon and we don’t have much time.'

Standing before the cluttered shop counter, it took Brianna about ten interminable seconds to recognize that the woman captured in the photograph kissing the dragon was in fact herself. When the penny clanged, her stomach fell to her strappy summer sandals. She looked again to be sure her eyes had not deceived her, as was her fervent wish. There, emblazoned in full color across the front of the trashy tabloid, she and Jesse had been snapped by some intrepid photographer "in flagrante delicto".

Apprehensively, she moved aside the carton of fortified milk that she had placed on top of the tabloid and read the caption printed in bold black type beneath the photograph. When she had finished reading, Brianna wished she could curl up beneath the counter and hide for about ten years. She darted a furtive glance toward the approaching shopkeeper and surreptitiously covered the photograph with her hand.

'Can I get you anything else, Miss Alexander?'

Hastily, she folded the paper in half, wrapping it around the milk carton. 'I'll take these, please, Mr. Franklin.' Quickly, she passed across some money, exiting the store before he could return her change. The time it took for her to walk the short distance back to her cottage seemed like forever. When the door was securely shut and bolted behind her, she scattered the inky pages across the dining room table, frantically leafing through the paper until she found the relevant article.

She reread the scurrilous review with growing dismay:

"International playboy, rock singer and mega-movie star, Jesse Lawless is in town. The biggest male icon to shine in this decade, it was only three short years ago that the successful rock singer made his phenomenal transition to the silver-screen, adding stardom to the two platinum albums he and his group have already received. Now, with four major movie releases behind him, and more lined up, is our sexy, devil-eyed Jesse on the prowl? Only last night the heart throb of tinsel-town was seen out and about with a new lady in his arms. At Mac Donald’s! Is it a holiday romance, we ask, or is he trying to let some of the dust settle after his sensational acquittal in the trial for murdering his ex-wife that held the entertainment world in such thrall? Maybe Lawless thinks it is time to lay to rest his turbulent past - booze, rehab, celebrity girlfriends and murder charges to name but a few. Watch out all you adoring fans. Perhaps the mystery woman who seems to have captured the mouth of the man sought by so many has also captured his heart. Do we hear wedding bells for Hollywood’s hottest property? We don't think so! Our man Jesse has a well-earned reputation for loving 'em and leaving 'em. For dead."

There was more, but she couldn't bring herself to read it.

She should have guessed, or at least suspected. For goodness sake, there had been enough clues. It was obvious that Jesse had been stringing her along all this time and probably laughing himself silly at her naiveté. Involuntarily, she scanned the page again and quailed.

She looked so abandoned.

Wanton almost.

With her lips parted invitingly and her eyes closed, obviously hungering after Jesse's possession. Mouthing an unladylike expletive, she swept the pages of the papers off the table. But the thing that intensified Brianna's anger wasn't the picture, or the article. It was the realization that deep down, she wanted the image of the wanton in Jesse's arms to be real.

'Brianna, are you home?' Emmaline stumped into the room. She pulled off a pair of heavy work gloves and stowed them in the front pocket of her apron. ‘'There you are. We've had such an interesting time in your garden.' She bent down and retrieved the paper from the floor, holding it up for the other Angel to see. 'Why, Brianna and her young man have their photograph in the paper.' Emmaline passed the pages to her sister-in-wings.

Brianna groaned inwardly. ' He's a movie star,' she supplied lamely.

'So he is.' Harriet's forehead wrinkled as she read the text. Not all her surprise had in fact been an act. It had been their plan to draw Brianna's attention to Jesse's fame, but not necessarily the sensational details of his notoriety. This development was obviously the work of the other side, and in order to turn it in heaven's favor, Brianna would need to look hard at the truth.

'Emmaline, wasn't he accused of murdering his wife?'

'I'm not one for gossip.' Emmaline offered a shrug. 'How does Jesse feel about this article, dear?'

Brianna exhaled her pent up breath noisily, feeling the color drain from her face and to her utter mortification, tears formed in the corner of her eyes and began to trickle unheralded down her cheeks. 'I haven't asked him.'

Harriet's bushy eyebrows waggled, lending her face a comic air. 'All sorts of silly misconceptions can be made when we jump to conclusions.' She patted Brianna's hunched shoulder and said on a softer note. 'I can see you're upset. I know you haven't asked, but if you want some advice from a couple of old women, go and talk to your young man.'

'Talk!' She fired a look of utter disbelief at the Angel. 'Am I meant to knock on his door and ask, "Hi there, stranger. Oh, by the way, are you really the famous Hollywood star who was accused of murdering his wife?'

More practical than her heavenly sister, Emmaline produced a tissue from the capacious pocket in the front of her apron and handed it to Brianna. 'Blow your nose. There is no shame in tears. They are a way of washing the hurt to the surface.'

Harriet seated herself in a chair beside Brianna's. ' From the way you are reacting, I can assume that Jesse is important to you?'

'Yes.' Using the back of her hand, she scrubbed at her wet cheeks. 'A lot.'

'Then you must ask yourself if he deserves a fair hearing.'

Brianna gave a snort, a shaft of self-righteous anger crackling along her veins. 'He deserves far more than that!'

'As well may be, dear,' Harriet gave Brianna's shoulder a conciliatory pat. 'But it's not for you to sit as his judge and jury. What has been hurt the most, your heart or your pride?'

'How can you ask me that? I'm not judging him,' she denied hotly. 'If he was half a man, he would have thought to tell me the truth about himself personally.'

'Maybe he had his own reasons for concealing his identity.'

Brianna flung up her hands. 'All he wants from me is a casual fling, no strings attached.'

'To women, that is how it may seem, but only on the surface. We often fail to understand that a man enters a relationship eye first.' The Angel cast Brianna a quirky smile. 'Men who have been embroiled in enormously stressful situations often survive by disconnecting from others in order to protect their inner-selves. The more detached they are, the more they crave sexual stimulation as a release and a way of reconnecting with reality. Is this of any help?'

Speechless, Brianna bobbed her head.

Harriet cleared her throat delicately before she continued. 'When men of great passion, such as Jesse’s, have been through hard times, their persistent sexual longing is their soul's way of seeking to find wholeness.'

'How does this relate to me?'

'Really, Brianna.' Harriet clucked her tongue. 'You're a mature woman and a doctor besides. Don't you know anything about the birds and the bees?' She rapped her knuckles sharply on the polished table-top. 'Pay attention, dear, I don't want to have to repeat myself. It is time you stopped leading with your head, and let your heart guide you.'

'And if it is not love, just lust - what then?'

Eyes, a deep clover-green, captured Brianna's. They were amazingly clear, unearthly almost, she thought. She swallowed hard, feeling as if her secret self was wide open to this woman. It was not a comfortable experience.

'I'd like to encourage you to look deeper. It won't be easy, but then unfailing love never is. It can be likened to taking a roller-coaster ride - bumpy, too fast and entirely unpredictable.' She gave a little shudder. 'Once you're on, you can't get off, so you have to hang in for the long haul. Only, don't play games with your feelings, they matter too much to both of you. If you really love him, then be honest, to yourself and to him. Take hold of your courage and move toward him. Be the first one to sacrifice your pride and tell him how you feel. If you love him, you will forgive him.'

Emmaline reached across the table and took one of Brianna's cold hands between her own. 'Are you confused?'

Was she ever! After listening to Miss Harriet, Brianna felt as if she was on another planet. She nodded weakly.

The Angel angled forward, resting her upper body weight on crossed arms. 'Look to his heart,' she instructed intently. 'Much of Jesse's bedroom talk is a cover-up for what he is truly searching for. You've already seen that there is a lifetime of pain and anger bottled up inside him. He is desperately seeking a place of sanctuary where he will feel he is accepted unconditionally.' She meshed her fingers, forming a Cathedral-like steeple that pointed to the heavens. 'Until he finds the courage to trust in your love, he is trapped.’

'Even if I do tell him, Jesse won't be here for me to love,' Brianna pointed out fractiously. 'He never promised me tomorrow.’

'God alone can promise us tomorrow,' Emmaline chided. 'Love is meant to be extravagant. It works only when we concentrate on giving, because to love another person is to glimpse heaven.'

'The gap between our lives may be too wide to bridge. He thinks heaven is a myth.'

Emmaline looked across at this lovely young woman who had waited a long time for her knight in buffed silver armor to ride in on his magnificent stallion and stake a claim to her pure heart. Only, when her knight had arrived to win her as his prize, he was really a dragon, poorly disguised, and the beast he rode growled and spat fire. There was no denying that the Master did so like His little surprises.

'Have confidence in love. Wash your face, then go out and get him.'

‘And now we know what Legion has been doing.’

‘Do you think Patrick’s plan will work?’

Emmaline painted the room with a steady glance, seeing beyond the furniture. Seeing eternity. ‘That all depends on what happens next.’

CHAPTER NINE

Too impatient for niceties, Brianna banged on Jesse’s door with the heel of her hand, demanding admission.

Patrick opened the door to her . ‘May I help you?’

‘I..uh.’ Brianna felt her face heat up. She took an involuntary step backwards. ‘I must have the wrong address.’ She turned to flee.

‘Wait. Miss.’

Caught like a bird in a trap, Brianna stopped. ‘I apologize for disturbing you. I really didn’t mean to intrude.’

‘Who are you looking for?’ He offered her a pleasant smile.

‘Jes…. Um, I’m not sure I have the liberty to tell you. He…this person likes to remain anonymous.’

‘I have an idea,’ Patrick told her. He beckoned with his finger, urging her to climb to the top step. ‘I think I can help you. You whisper the name of the person you’re after and if I know who it is, I’ll nod. Is that a good compromise?’

Still unsure how to handle this, Brianna took each step slowly. She angled her head until her lips were aligned with the man’s ear. ‘Jesse Lawless,’ she told him, half-expecting lightening to strike.

‘Then this is your lucky day,’ he returned in a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Mr. Lawless does live here. I’m his butler.’

‘You are? He does!’

‘I’ll take it from here Pat. Why don’t you go out and buy some groceries. Take as much time as you need.’

Brianna’s head swung back with a snap in time to see the two men exchange places.

'What an unexpected surprise,' Jesse told her and opened the door wider to allow her entry. ‘I see you’ve met my butler.’ Tousled hair, dripping wet fell unfettered around his face. Water slicked down his tanned body, nude apart from a pair of worn denims that caressed his slim hips with a touch as familiar as that of a courtesan's hand. The half-zippered fly and open stud told the unmistakable story of a man dragged from his shower, and the obvious spark in his eye warned her he had every intention of returning there.

Alone or otherwise.

Her nostrils quivered as she smelt the wild musk of this magnificent dragon that had been disturbed from his business. Despite who he was, his deception, or the world he belonged to, she couldn't keep herself from remembering what it felt like to be held in his naked arms….the taste of his hot mouth…the feel his strong hands. Even now, when she desperately needed every defense she could marshal, he looked so damned sexy it took her breath away.

'I'd like to think that you wanted me so much that you couldn't wait until this evening to see me again, but I can see by the sour expression on your face that you've something other than sex on your mind.' Absently, he combed the wet hair off his forehead and as his lazy glance took in her mutinous scowl. 'And I'd ask what seems to be your problem, sweetheart, if I wasn't so sure that it's probably me.'

His underlying humor rekindled an edge to her anger. She jabbed an accusatory finger at his naked chest. 'Right first time, you darn...'

'I love it when you talk dirty.’ Before she could make a retreat, he did what he always did, and covered her gaping mouth with his own. He cut off her angry tirade with an open-mouthed kiss that was wet and wicked. Without breaking contact, he bent his knees and cupped the soft swell of her backside with callused hands, lifting her right off her toes and settling her slight weight against the ridge of his pelvis. ‘Say something more. It turns me on.'

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Brianna angled her head away, trying to escape the devastation he was wrecking. She reached up and grabbed hold of a handful of his hair, tugging on it sharply.

‘Darlin’, that is not a nice thing to do.’ Jesse's swift kiss of retaliation wasn't practiced. It wasn't kind.. .A Plunder's kiss, desperate and without finesse, taking what he assumed was his by right of conquest.. His tongue invaded, driving deeper, wanting everything and taking more.

For all that she was feeling, Brianna didn't surrender to his demands meekly. She twined her fingers more tightly still in his hair and met the determined onslaught of his mouth with a will of her own.

Tongue dueled with tongue.

Skin abraded skin at every point they touched.

She was furious with him for his easy assumption of her capitulation. Angrier still that he could arouse her to fever point with just one kiss that undermined her self-determination. Somewhere the kiss had become carnal and she clung to him, squeezed tight against his body in every place they touched.

Driven to the edge by her response, Jesse growled her name and hitched her higher. He pinioned her back against the wall so that her legs were forced fully apart and straddled his hips. Temporarily abandoning her mouth, he sunk his sharp teeth into her neck and nipped the tender skin beneath her ear. Brianna uttered a yelp and jerked against him. Jesse crowed a low laugh and suckled the stinging flesh, rocking his hips so that the zipper on his jeans notched dangerously low. Only a few metal teeth pressing against the stretched gossamer fabric of her silk panties separated them. He felt her shivers of desire darting along veins made electric by his touch, and he enticed Brianna deeper into a kiss that was becoming wildly and wonderfully erotic. His seeking mouth grew increasingly urgent until she opened to him with a breathy moan, soft and surrendering. Tasting victory on her parted lips, Jesse's body was in agony for a release, tight and as tense as a cocked bow string pulled to full extension.

A wild, primitive mating urge drove him to take what she was offering.

One second, a freeing of their clothing and he would have taken her there and then, had her against the wall and she would have given him all he asked, meeting his desire with a raging hunger that equaled his and damned the consequences.

Only, he couldn't do it.

Some protective masculine instinct warned him to ease up before the fire of his tightly banked passion exploded into a raging inferno impossible to douse. Digging deep, he fought his way back from the edge. It cost him a supreme effort to drag his mouth away from her seductive surrender and end it, lowering her to the floor. Brianna Alexander was not the sort of woman he could take against a wall.

With her, he wanted to feel and taste and savor.

With her, a day would never be enough.

They faced off long moments, both fighting to slow their breathing. Brianna struggled for some words of denial, her body shaking so badly that she feared her legs wouldn't hold her and she sought the wall for support.

The expression in his hooded eyes was inscrutable as he sensed the battle for control going on within her. 'Why did you come?'

'Have you read a paper today?' Unsure now, Brianna crouched to retrieve the abandoned newspaper and swatted it at him.

'No.' Contempt flashed across his face and he didn't even bother looking at it. He hitched his left shoulder against the wall, waiting for what he knew was coming.

Even though he had assumed an empty mask of indifference, Brianna saw his hand curled tight into a fist as it rested against his muscled thigh. She hazarded a guess that he was strung with tension as tightly as the cat gut on his twelve-string guitar. The thought gave her some comfort as unhurriedly, he spread the sheets open and scanned the first page. His breath exhaled with impatience.

'Why didn't you tell me who you were, Jesse?' She inched up her chin, fighting back a desire to burst into tears.

'It wasn't important.'

'How can you say that. This article makes me look like¾.'

'Like my lover,' Jesse finished for her, his cool smile an indication that he wasn't suffering from a similar verbal constipation. He rolled the paper into a cylinder and spun it toward the closed door where it fell to the carpeted floor with a dull thwack. Still watching her with narrowed intent, he tucked his hands into the pocket of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. The zipper dipped another notch as the waistband settled lower on his lean hips. 'It's no big deal.'

Noticing the downward slide, her heart skipped a beat. She uttered a strangled sound, desperate to keep her mind above the waistband of his jeans. 'You lied to me.' Despite her best effort, her voice cracked.

'I never lied to you, Brianna.'

'But you didn't tell me the whole truth.'

‘What's it with you and this truth stuff? There's nothing to keep secret.’ Jesse looked suddenly tired. ‘I honestly thought you knew who I was, or at the very least, had a good guess.'

'How could I, when you evaded all my questions?'

'What does that prove, damn it? Women pretend all sorts of things about me. How was I to know you weren’t putting on some elaborate charade for my benefit? Besides,' he tossed out as though it were his coup de grace. 'I asked you to come with me next Saturday.'

'Going on a date would explain who you are?'

He was so frustrated, he whacked a closed fist into the wall. 'On a date! You must be the only woman I know who would use that old-fashioned term.' Shaking his hand ostensibly, he thrust his injured fist under his arm. The nasty look he fired her laid the blame for his pain squarely at her elegantly shod toes. 'I asked you to come with me to the "Moonshine Ball".

'The Moonshine Ball,' she repeated dully. 'You're kidding?'

'Nope. This win-ding will involve everyone in the Australian television and film industry, as well as other big wigs and movie stars flying in from all over. Would I take you to something of its kind if I didn't think you were aware of my background?'

'Are you such an arrogant...peacock that you think you're so famous I'd be kissing your feet in thanks for having been asked to go out with you?'

'Most women I know would be impressed.'

'Then you must have met a sorry bunch of women up until now.'

'Perhaps I was fool enough to think you liked me for myself, despite what you might or might not know about my background.' His golden dragon's gaze flashed in warning. 'Come in here.'

Before she could answer yes or no, he practically frog-marched her through to the living room and pushed her roughly onto a plush settee, so deep it almost swallowed her whole. Brianna bounced twice, her back coming to rest against the rolled armrest. She drew herself into the corner and glared a challenge.

'At the very least, you could have warned me what to expect when our photo was taken.'

Arms akimbo, endless legs apart, he reared his head and fixed her with a glance that pinioned her against the upholstered cushions. 'What good would that have done?'

'As unbelievable as it may seem to you, until I read about you in the paper, I truly had no idea who you were.' She managed a pretend-smile. 'News of Hollywood has little relevance when you are struggling to help people in a country torn apart by war and famine.'

'Point taken, Miss Goodie-two-shoes, so you can stop your bleating.’

She sat back with an angry oof. 'I happen to enjoy my privacy, and my anonymity. Both of which have been jeopardized because of that wretched newspaper article.'

'Say it out loud, babe. You're ashamed of me.’ When Jesse bunched his fists and thrust them into the pockets of his jeans, the zipper skidded so far down that only skin kept the denims in place. ‘Well, it's a tough call, 'cause like they say I come as a package deal.'

‘I am not ashamed of you, and will you do up your blasted zip,’ she asked through gritted teeth.

Without breaking eye contact, he closed the offending fastener, snapping the brass stud shut, and taking his own sweet time about it.

'Thank you,' she managed with ill grace.

'You're welcome.'

'Why did you want to make a fool of me?'

'Give it a rest, Brianna. Don't you think that you're overreacting just a bit?’ The expression in his eyes told her nothing and everything. With a harsh sigh, he destroyed the space between them, coming down beside her on the settee, so close she may as well have been sitting on his lap. ‘What's one photo?'

'It's more than a photograph, Jesse, and you know it. It's about trust and respect.'

'My past and what I do for a living is not important between us. I for one am not sorry for the way things have developed between us, and I refuse to apologize.'

She opened her mouth to refute him and closed it again with a snap. Why did she have this sinking feeling that she had played right into Jesse's game plan?

'Brianna.' Jesse lifted her hand and laced her fingers through his own. Backward and forward, his thumb stroked the junction between her first finger and thumb in an imitation of lovemaking. 'I promise to answer any questions from here on.'

The room grew suddenly stifling. Jesse's arm brushed against the soft side of her breast, sensitizing the skin. 'The truth?'

'Within reason, lady. A man likes to retain a certain mystique.' He settled himself more comfortably on the settee, sliding his other arm along the headrest behind her.

'Who are you, Jesse?'

'The myth or the man?'

'Can you separate the two?'

He took a long, slow breath. 'Believe me, I try. It's people like that damned reporter that make up all the stories.'

'Are you telling me that what he wrote about you wasn't true?'

His thumb traced patterns on the back of her hand. 'Some of it.'

'You're a famous actor and a singer, right?'

His frustration was apparent in his terse laughter. 'I’ve had some success. What counts between us is that I'm just a man who wants to spend time with a beautiful woman.'

She snatched her hand away and leapt to her feet. Halfway across the room, she turned on him with a flourish, gesturing wildly with her hands in exasperation. 'Stop making love to me.'

'Am I so unlovable?'

'I've already told you that I don't want to be another of your one-night women.'

'Look, I won't deny my past.' The expression on his face was as hard as the muscles in his shoulders. 'But that's what it is, the past. You're not the only one who has done some thinkin' and changin' this past week.'

'I know that, and I respect you more for doing so.'

'How very magnanimous of you. But?'

'We're still too different.'

'How does it feel to walk on water, Brianna?' he asked without inflection although anguish at her rejection ripped through him, gnawing at his vitals.

Caught midstep, she spun to confront the mocking glitter in his golden stare, her mouth forming an indignant 'O'. 'It's not like that.' Instinctively, her hand reached for her throat.

'Deep down, you don't really care who I am, or about my past.’ With a fierce expletive, he came to his feet and stalked her lithely. All his weight was balanced on the balls of his bare feet, honed muscles rippling like the superb athlete he undoubtedly was. ‘You just want some romance to lighten up your dull, prissy life. Only, you don't want to take the chance of being hurt, so you want me signed, sealed and delivered, with a "no pain intended" guarantee stuck to my damned forehead.'

'This isn't my idea of a romance.'

'Perhaps not,' he agreed in a low savage voice, his mouth tightening. 'But it's for real, babe. Two normal, healthy adults who know they want the same thing from each other.'

'What you feel is little more than animal attraction!'

'Admit it.’ He slanted her a brief humorless smile as he prowled past her. Two steps. Turn. He was circling her. ‘You've tried to convince yourself that I'm the villain and you're my victim.'

When he took another step towards her, she held up a hand as if to ward off the devil himself. 'I just want us to be friends.' She winced inwardly at the hint of a whine that had crept into her voice.

Air hissed between his teeth. Friends! She was tearing him apart, and all she wanted was for them to be friends. He ceased his prowling, standing inches away from her tip-tilted nose. ‘I’m not settling for a consolation prize, babe. It’s way too late for you and me to go for friendship. This isn't some glitzy sit-com, with you and me taking lead roles.’

'I've never done anything like this before.'

'Done what?' His voice was as hard as the aggressive jut of his strong jaw. 'We haven't done anything yet.'

'It!'

'It?'

As the full import of her statement began to sink in, he came back onto the soles of his bare feet and swore soundly. 'Brianna?'

He had to swallow. Hard. In this day and age, she couldn't be for real. No woman got to be nearly thirty without having experienced at least one love affair. Hell, how could he have got so lucky? All at once he felt as though he had been offered the world on a golden platter.

'You're a virgin?'

Her mouth turned down at the corners. 'Yes.'

'I'll be darned!' He slapped his thigh hard, allowing her jibe to run off him like maple syrup off hot pancakes. His shoulders began to shake with silent laughter.

'This is not funny.'

'I'm not laughing at you, darlin',' he denied hurriedly and made an effort to curb his jubilation. Man, he felt good enough to crow. 'You should have told me sooner. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with me.'

'What was I supposed to do, write it on my forehead.'

'Trusted me.'

'Look who's talking.'

'Touché.' Stepping back a notch, he reached for her hands and imprisoned them against his chest. 'Why have you waited so long? A beautiful, uptown lady like yourself must have had a line beating a path to your door.'

‘Take that look off your face, Lawless.’ She gave a haughty toss of her head.. ‘I do not harbor a Madonna complex. I’m a doctor. I teach sex-education.’ She pulled a tight smile. ‘Believe it or not, I even know which bit goes where. Contrary to the popular image being portrayed by the media, I believe that it takes more than one romp around a bed to make a relationship.’

'Let me guess. You expect diamonds in golden circles and water-tight promises that will protect you from the alter to the grave?'

'Well, of course I do. I'm as normal as any other woman is in that respect, but I've had my work and other things to keep me occupied. I've been waiting for the right man.'

'Me?' It felt as though she had his heart in a suffocating vice.

'Does that bother you?'

'Lord, Brianna.' Jesse sucked in his breath on an audible hiss and the words he muttered were low enough to be a curse or a prayer as he hauled her back into his embrace. If only she knew she was handing him something more precious as a kings' ransom. He roamed his hands across her shoulders and down to the small of her back. 'It doesn't matter a damn to me if you are experienced. I want you, not your virginity. I feel a clod, though. It explains in part why you are so cagey about hot footing it into my bed.'

'I'm in love you Jesse.’

The movement of Jesse’s hands faltered.

'It's against the rules to say that, isn't it?'

He smiled, but there was something in his eyes she hadn't seen before. As though he was looking at her for the first time.

'Is my love so binding?'

'Golden chains, blue-eyes. I'm not very good at handling long-term commitment. I'm a good-time guy, here today, gone tomorrow.'

She took a faltering step backwards. Then back again, until half the width of the room separated them. 'I may love you Jesse, but you have to understand that I could never be a casual one-nighter, for you, or for any other man. I can't love you in little slices.'

He could feel the bands close around his chest, cut off his air. 'What is it you want of me, Brianna?'

She wrapped her arms around her waist. 'Honesty. Would you tell me about what really happened between you and your wife?'

'It's yesterday's news.'

'Not to me it isn't.'

'Okay, okay.' He did not know how she would react when he told her details of his less-than-savory past and his insides twisted into a cold knot of dread. Jesse knew that in the telling, he would be putting his fate in her hands. He snapped his head, indicating the settee, acting before his courage failed him. 'You want the story, park your butt over there and shut your sweet little mouth.'

Brianna was smart enough to do as she was told.

'She was a real bitch,' was his opening gambit. 'Her name was Louise, but it should have been snake in the grass.'

'Then why did you marry her?'

'Now that is the sixty-four thousand dollar question. You wouldn't understand the reasons if I had a year to explain them all. It was a male thing.'

'So, humor me. Give me the simplified version.'

'Stop hassling me, lady. This is my life story and I'll give it to you any which way I damned well please.' He pulled a curl. 'She was very beautiful. Blonde and tall. On the scale, a genuine ten, and very sophisticated. She knew every trick in the book to turn a guy on and fulfill his secret fantasies.'

I’m not like her! She wanted to shout it. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t her style. Unable to verbally refute any unspoken implication, she dipped her head and studied her hands, clasped tightly in her lap.

'When I met her, I was looking for excitement and I thought I'd found them with her. The ink was hardly dry on the license before I found out, to my cost, that she saw marriage to me as the first of the many steps she intended to take to get all that she thought life owed her.' Out of the corner of his eye, Jesse watched for any change in Brianna's expression, expecting her to believe the worst. Her smile of encouragement renewed his determination to lay all his cards on the table. 'We drifted on down through the Panama in search of the big money and ended up in one of those insignificant, fragmented South American countries. At that particular time, a Junta under the leadership of a tin-pot General controlled the country. Fool that I was, the offer of big bucks to work on his pet engineering project lulled me into a false sense of security. Or maybe I just didn't give a damn.' He shrugged. 'For a few months everything went along just fine and dandy, until one of the President's flunkies offered me the opportunity to supplement my salary by running guns in from the States. As amazing as it may sound, I still had a shred of conscience, so I refused. My dear wife, however, was all for the deal. To her twisted way of thinking, it meant easy money and I was the one taking all the risks. When they heard that I wouldn’t play hardball, the man at the top got real mean. As a warning to others who thought to oppose him he had me set up on a bogus drug charge. They rigged the trial and had me turfed into a stinking hole to rot within a month of my arrest. When it looked like I wasn't going to get out of that God-forsaken hell, she cleaned out every penny she could get her dainty hands on and high-tailed it back Stateside.'

Brianna felt sick inside. 'But she helped you get away.'

'Wake up Brianna. The only reason she didn't file for a quickie divorce was her greedy belief that she'd get a pay-off from my insurance company if I died. Thank God, or who ever it was looking after me, that there were some other people who cared enough to help.’

'Who were they?'

He gave her a wary look. 'Just a couple of middle-aged sisters who had been given permission by the Prison Warden to bring prisoners books to read and other stuff. After a time, they were able to smuggle out a letter for me and send it on to Seth Jackson. Seth's old man knows people in the right places and he pulled in a few favors. Luck was on my side 'cause the guy running the country had undergone a change of heart. He wanted to foster closer ties with the U.S. As small as it was, the country held some strategic politic value for the power brokers.' His laugh was mirthless. 'I was only too happy to be a convenient pawn in their game if it got me out of jail.'

She took his down bent head between her hands and looked deep into his eyes. 'I'm not like Louise, Jesse.'

His mouth slanted into a brief smile that disappeared before it had reached his eyes. 'I wouldn't be shooting my mouth off if I thought you were. I didn't kill her.' The words were torn from him, leaving a raw, gaping wound that exposed his need.

'The papers said you were acquitted.'

'Yeah, but mud has a habit of sticking once it's been thrown. Plenty of people are still convinced I got away with murder, despite the jury's findings.'

'Don't the police have other suspects?'

'They had dozens to choose from, but I’m still the prime suspect.' He washed his face with his hand, wondering if he would ever be free from the taint of death. Pain, like blood, bled from his eyes beneath the black slash of lowered brows. 'Do you think I'm guilty?'

The moment he uttered the words, sweat sheened the surface of his skin and a shroud of despair settled over him. There was tension in the line of his jaw, in the way his nostrils flared with every breath and the curl of disgust on his lips. Had he lost her now by telling her about his past, and exposing her to the septic darkness that haunted him?

Sensing some of his agony, she touched his cheek with questing fingers. This was the right moment and he was the right man - her heart had made that choice, not her head. There was no need to ask why or think twice. She could do this. What she couldn't, wouldn't do, was walk away from him and any future they might have together, however temporary. 'If I could, I’d wipe some of the sadness I see from your eyes. Your yesterday’s don’t have to be your prison. For what it’s worth, I believe in you, Jesse.'

Jesse felt as if his entire life had fallen away beneath his feet. He could hardly dare to hope. 'Why?'

'Because I don't think you would ever set out to destroy another person.'

'You don't even know the sordid details.'

'And I don't need to know them. I love you and love doesn't need to ask why. It's real and won't go away and it's not afraid to trust.' She took a steadying breath. 'You aren't like most people, Jesse. You're a luminous shooting star that has burst across my life, trailing a blaze that eclipses every other thing.' She touched his hand clenched so rigidly beside her. 'Please forgive me.'

She was asking for his forgiveness!

Her simple faith was like a giant candle glowing in Jesse’s private dark. Abruptly the last of the tension went out of his body and he looked at her, his strange eyes alive with a fierce, naked need. 'Do you really mean what you're saying?'

'Yes.'

Jesse slumped forward then and sat second after silent second, his palms pressed together between his knees. Her assurance and trust unhinged his control. Anger had given him the strength to hold back the tide of pain. Brianna's profession attacked his armor just as fire tempers steel and the walls he had built around his heart were breached.

'Oh, God,' he whispered in an agony of remembrance, as bit by bit, he got it together enough to talk. 'I think the worst of it was that I found her.' He cleared his throat before he could continue. 'She'd phoned me the day before she was murdered and said she wanted to talk about money. We arranged to meet at her apartment. It was more sensible to take her out to a restaurant, but she nearly always created a scene. As it turned out, I had a photo shoot that day, which ran way over schedule, so I was late getting to her place. I knocked, but got no answer. Louise was fond of playing bedroom games, so I just thought she was putting on a tease. I knew first hand how far she'd go to get money from a man and from what I'd heard on the grapevine, she was in serious debt. The door wasn't locked. Louise had been expecting me, so I went right on in.' He clamped his teeth together, struggling with the memory. 'She was lying all twisted up like a discarded rag doll on the floor beside the sofa.'

Jesse stopped talking and the silence went on and on. 'There was so much blood,' he said at last, and he shuddered as the grotesque images returned to swamp his mind. 'There was a carving knife, here.' Jesse touched the place below his heart. 'I didn't think about what I was doing. I just acted on instinct and I grabbed for the knife and gave it a yank. It came out with this terrible grating sound and there was so much blood, Brianna. Not from the wound. That had stopped bleeding. But it was all over the floor and had soaked through Louise’s clothes. Blood got on my hands, on my shirt. Everywhere.' He closed his eyes, remembering the despair. Without knowing what he was doing, he rubbed his hands up and down his denims. … Over and over again... Harsh, rasping sounds in a subconscious gesture to rid himself of that terrible rusty stain.

'She wasn't breathing. I tried blowing into her mouth, that sort of thing, but nothing helped. So I dialed 911 and called the ambulance. They notified the cops.'

'Why did they think you had killed her?' Brianna asked gently.

His laugh was bitter. 'Louise had dangerously expensive tastes. She wanted more than she got from the divorce settlement and she was always on my case about how unfair the judge's ruling had been. It was common knowledge that we fought whenever we were together and that I wanted rid of her once and for all, no matter what it cost me.

'But murder?'

'Yeah, well you never met Louise. The way she told it, she had risked her own sweet fanny to save my sorry carcass from rotting in that crummy jail. Hell, according to her, she stood by me while I climbed my way to stardom, working her painted fingers down to the quick to support me every step of the way. She was even proud of the trail of other men she left behind. She said sleeping with them was one of the sacrifices she had made for my career.' Jesse developed an interest with something outside. 'It was also common knowledge that I had been hitting the bottle big time and like a bloody fool, I had swallowed pills, some to pick me up, some to get me down again.' His eyes came back to her face, deep and pleading. 'I never touched the really hard stuff, like cocaine, or used a needle. I was a real mess, babe, but I've kicked all that, I swear. The cops had no reason to love me either. They'd picked me up a time or two for drunk driving and causing a disturbance in a public place more than once.' He grated a laugh. 'I got arrested for socking one of the paparazzi who had been haunting my footsteps. He’d chased me into a men's room in a restaurant and wanted to shoot pictures of me taking a leak. I smashed his bloody camera, then pushed his face into the urinal.'

'Radical, perhaps, but after today's article, I can sympathize.'

'Thanks, but the D.A.'s Office didn't see it your way.’ He managed an on-again-off-again smile. ‘They latched onto my enforced stay in that South America hell-hole as if it was manna from heaven. As far as they were concerned, I was as guilty as sin.' He took a shuddering breath. 'I can't say I blame them entirely. My fingerprints were on the knife. I had her blood on my clothes and shoes and I had the motive, the opportunity and a record for violent, anti-social behavior, as well as having a drug conviction in another country.' He grasped her hand too tightly. 'Brianna, I swear before God, I did not kill her.'

'Jesse, this is me you're talking to, remember.' She raised their clenched hands and skimmed her lips across his white knuckles.

He hitched his shoulders in a fatalistic shrug and produced a faint smile. 'It's a pity the police weren't as easy to convince as you. They are only too aware of what a man is capable of doing when he's provoked badly enough.' He turned his head, staring at nothing in particular. 'What I had was a good lawyer with a reputation for ferreting out the truth. He was able to submit DNA evidence that Louise had engaged in sexual activity within an hour of her death as there was semen present in her vagina. Not mine,' he added emphatically. 'I wouldn't have touched her with a barge pole. During the trial, it came out that she'd been sleeping with some guy who was known to be a lieutenant in a major crime family. There was also a smudged, partial thumb print on the knife which belonged to someone else that couldn't be discounted. Then, in an eleventh hour rescue bid, some of Louise's neighbors came forward to testify that they had heard raised voices shortly before the alleged time of her death. I tell you, it was a close call in the end.'

'Why hadn't they come forward earlier?'

He stroked her hair back from her face, his fingers trembling very slightly. 'Because they weren't paying much attention to the noise. In the time they had lived next door to her, they had become used to the sound of Louise fighting with one person or another. They had complained to the apartment superintendent many times so to them, the fighting had become an annoying, regular occurrence. However, the twist of fate that worked in my favor was that they had a cab waiting outside and were in a hurry to get away for the start of a once in a life time vacation touring Europe, so they weren't hanging about counting the punches. It was only after some other nosy neighbor had cornered them on their return that the Marcovelli's put it all together and volunteered some information.' His laugh sounded humorless. 'My lawyer was able to get hold of the cab company's records and find out what time they were picked up. He did some more digging and in the final analysis, it was the cops themselves who saved my butt. On the afternoon of the murder, I'd been running late for my appointment with Louise and I'd run an amber light five blocks from her apartment building,' he explained. 'I was stopped by a gung-ho traffic cop and given a ticket. The hundred and fifty bucks it cost me for the fine was the best money I spent in my defense. What with the murder, then the trial and all, I’d forgotten all about it. The ticket was stamped with the date and the time and offered enough proof that I couldn't have been in the apartment at the time the Marcovelli's heard Louise fighting.' He shook his head in remembered disbelief. 'It wasn't much to go on. I came that close to having my neck in a noose, and was saved by a crummy traffic ticket,' he said, raising thumb and finger and bringing them close together.

Tears misted her eyes. 'You suffered so much.'

Jesse saw the love for him glow in her eyes, a love so quietly intense he felt humbled by it. 'You don't know the half of it, babe. While I was in jail, I spent most of my time trying to keep my famous movie-star butt from getting gang raped every damned time I went to the john.'

'Is that where you got the scar on your neck?'

'Bingo.' He swallowed hard. 'All things considered, it was a small price to pay for preserving my chastity.'

Brianna shuddered in horror at the thought. 'Why weren't you out on bail?'

'Because I was a public risk, babe. The D.A.'s Office thought I'd high tail it, and they convinced the judge into seeing things from their point of view. The trial took the best part of five months, all told.'

'Oh, sweet Lord,' Brianna breathed in real reverence. 'I am so sorry that I said all those horrible things to you.' She caught his arm in a fierce grip.

'Hey, don't sweat it, okay? It's not your fault.' He slanted her a smile of sly humor. 'Just promise you'll stay with me.'

'As long as you want.'

He reached for her then and flicked a stray curl back behind her ear. Not for the first time since meeting her he realized that Brianna Alexander had been heaven-sent. He caught her chin, tipped up her face and kissed her.

Hard.

This was what it was meant to come home, Jesse thought, and kissed her again.

'Will you hold me close and tell me bedtime stories when the night gets too scary?' he asked without lifting his mouth from hers.

'You're not trying to play on my sympathy, are you?’ Brianna arched a brow in a teasing gesture. ‘Only, I'm a good girl, I am.'

'Hey.' He pulled back and the roll of his eyes was dramatic. 'Would I do something like that? I just want to be your very best friend. You know, one who sticks closer than a brother.'

She had to laugh. 'Put so graciously, how can I refuse?'

'Oh, that was so beautiful.' Unashamed, tears ran down Harriet's seamed face.

Emmaline handed her friend an ever-present tissue. 'It was a near thing though.'

'I agree, but it is working. Look at his heart. See, the bands of darkness are retreating.'

'He has to let himself trust her completely in order to love fully.'

'Everything in its time, Emm. If love is to have any hope of growing, then we have to break down the old patterns. First hope. Then faith. Love grows from these.'

'And is the greatest.'

Harriet nodded. 'Also, the hardest to give.'

Emmaline conjured up another tissue and dabbed a tear in the corner of her own eye. 'Can he do it, do you suppose?'

'With our help and Brianna's love, the boy doesn't stand a snowball's chance in Hades.'

'Please, Harriet!' Patrick gave a great shudder as he remembered the demon.

'They've got us on their side, Patrick.' She narrowed her eyes, describing a rectangle in the air with her hands. 'Once we put your plan into action, Jesse will hardly know what has hit him. I can see the wedding invitations already.'

CHAPTER TEN

It was just as well for Brianna that she had no inkling of what the Angels had in store for her, or she would probably have turned her car around and made a run for the Southern Alps.

Unsuspecting of the welcoming committee who lurked inside the living room, she stepped through her front doorway cocooned in innocence.

‘It went well then?’ The Angels pounced as soon as Brianna’s size six shoe had crossed the threshold.

‘Miss Emmy.’ Brianna glowed at the portly Angel. ‘Am I that easy to read?’

‘It’s hard to miss. You are practically floating.’

Uninhibited by happiness, Brianna spread her arms wide and pirouetted on the toe of her sensible Italian leather loafers. ‘I misjudged Jesse and I almost made the worst mistake of my life. If you had not pointed out those few home truths I hate to think what I would have done. Jesse and I have talked through a number of things,’ she told them, censoring the discussion. ‘I owe you both a lot. Thank you.’

‘All in a day’s work,’ Emmaline said, waiving aside the thanks. She had no time left for subtleties. The enemy had declared itself. While they had defeated one demon, the ruler of the underworld had an army to do his bidding. Time was not on their side. Brianna’s honesty and integrity had hooked Jesse. Her love had captivated him. It was up to them to ascertain that he took the bait. Figuratively speaking, of course, she assured her conscience hurriedly. And their bait was Brianna. ‘Since we’re talking about it, are you ready for Plan B?’

‘Plan B?’ Brianna was still up on Cloud Nine and too happy still to feel suspicion.

‘We had an…idea.’ Harriet bustled up and snagged Brianna’s arm. ‘Come and sit down and we’ll explain.’

Brianna let herself be led into the dining room and seated at the table. The Angels took up seats opposite her. She turned her head from one to the other, trying to gauge where this was going. ‘Am I missing something?’ she asked, trying to clear her head. ‘Remind me. What was Plan A?’

‘Plan A was to engage the enemy, and to attack and conquer.’

Brianna giggled to disguise a sudden twinge of nervousness. ‘Right. And Plan B?’

Harriet entwined her fingers. ‘First, tell me, are you going to see him again?’

‘He’s coming along tonight to meet my family.’ The return of her smile transformed her face. ‘And he’s agreed to go with me afterward to the theater.’

‘Well done.’ Harriet jerked her sharp chin in a nod of approval. ‘Now is not the time to be squeamish, my dear. Can you bear to hear one or two little home truths?’

Her smile froze to one of bemusement. ‘Ah, yes. I guess.’

‘Forgive the meddling of two old fools’ Emmaline offered a smile that gentled the return of Brianna’s unease. ‘Tell us to mind our own business, and we will quite understand.’

Disarmed by the woman’s honesty, Brianna reached across and caught her hand. She gave it a squeeze. Why she trusted these women, she had no real idea. They were practically strangers, and yet, surprising, she felt as though she had known them all her life. Something about them encouraged her to put aside her natural reticence and inhibitions. In their company, she felt comfortable. For a woman who counted her close friends on one hand, this admission didn’t come easily. In the short time they had been her guest, she had come to love them and their quirky ways.

It was all topsy-turvy.

If she hadn’t known better, she would suspect a setup… that they were behind her meeting Jesse Lawless.

‘It’s okay. Really. I may not like what you have to say, but if you hadn’t helped me out earlier, this afternoon’s outcome would have probably been a disaster and I’m guessing that the topic of this conversation would have been redundant.’ She hesitated, seeing for the first time the bandage on Miss Emmy’s wrist. ‘Why, you’ve cut yourself.’ She fingered the edge of the bandage. ‘What happened?’

‘Just a scratch, child. I was ridding your garden of some unwanted…rubbish and I mistimed the thrust.’

Dismayed, Brianna opened her mouth to ask for clarification, but the Angel swept aside her interjection.

‘Don’t fuss. With your permission, we’ll move right along.’ Emmaline turned her hand within Brianna’s. ‘It’s about your clothes, dear.’

‘My clothes?’ Her clothes! Surreptitiously, she fingered the hem of her skirt beneath the table.

‘Jesse needs something to make him sit up and take notice. Think of it as honey for the bee. He’s beginning to think that he’s got you figured out and that will never do. You need to make a few strategic changes that will make his head spin. The best way to hold a man like Jesse is to keep him guessing.’

Once again, Brianna felt like she was back in nursery school. ‘What sort of honey…ah changes are we talking about here?’

Emmy pursed her lips. ‘I mean no disrespect, but frankly the way you dress looks like an advertisement for a town and country magazine. Have you ever thought of wearing something…’ She sought for a suitable adjective.

‘Modern,’ Harriet supplied. She slanted a side-ways glance at her fellow Angel that demanded "Me too!", which Emmaline stalwartly refused to acknowledge.

Brianna felt herself go red about the face. It was a bit hard to swallow, taking advise from a pair of out-modish old maids whose idea of a fashion statement was drip-dry, floral print polyester. ‘Doesn’t this sort of come under the banner of female exploitation and stereo-typing? I mean, is it the politically correct thing to do, fancying myself up to attract men.’

‘I don’t mean try and make you do something you feel uncomfortable about.’

‘Oh, you’re not,’ Brianna hurried to assure her.

‘We are not trying to exploit you. If our intention was to paint your face and dress you in suggestive clothing for the sole purpose of attracting men’s attention, then you would have reason to feel alarmed. Let me assure you, this is not what we are suggesting.’

It was her turn for honesty. ‘I guess I over-reacted. All my adult life I’ve deliberately chosen my appearance to be functional….understated, discrete, tailored, suitable. Which probably sums me up perfectly. I know I’m not a great beauty. I had the brains.’ Grimacing slightly, she looked the Angel straight in the eye. ‘That is probably a cliché. I had to work hard to qualify as a doctor, alongside a large number of chauvinists who still think, even in this day and age, that women should leave the real work up to real men. Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I choose instead to down-play my femininity.’ She brushed a lock of hair back from her face with the back of her hand. ‘You’ve no idea how much I dislike being the ugly-duckling. For once, I’d really like to be the Swan. If you think this will help me get a message across to Jesse, then do what you have to. But please,’ she begged with a weak smile. ‘No black leather.’

‘I think we can accommodate that. How about denims?’ queried Harriet, her birdlike head bent to one side.

Brianna threw up her head and laughed. ‘I can handle that,’ she said, entering into the game with newfound enthusiasm.

‘T-shirts?’

‘With writing on them?’ Brianna proscribed a circle above her breast. ‘You know, I kind of liked the one Jesse wore the other evening that had gold writing on it.’

‘I think we can manage that between us. Now for the biggy. Will you allow us to give you a full make-over? Hair, face, everything.’

Her hand crept up and she fingered her hair. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Now was not the time to turn chicken. Brianna nodded before she lost her courage. ‘I’m in your hands.’

‘You won’t regret that decision.’ Harriet brought her hands, palms down, on the table. ‘Have we told you about our friend, Patrick?’

Patrick arrived half an hour after Harriet’s telephone call, totting a colorful bag of cosmetics and nick-nacks he’d conjured. He could have been there in an instant, having long since perfected the art of blinking, but he knew the need of maintaining their illusion of mortality.

One look at him and Brianna’s mouth hit the floor. ‘Aren’t you…Didn’t we?’ She snapped her jaw shut. ‘No, that’s not possible.’

‘Moonlighting, deary,’ Patrick said, and held his finger to his lips and offered her an outrageous wink. ‘You won’t tell?’

Too surprised to offer an objection, mutely Brianna shook her head.

Who would believe her anyway?

Here she was, practical, sensible, ordered Brianna Emily Alexander, hopelessly in love with a dragon, and willingly placing herself in the hands of two women who dressed in the style of characters right out of a Mary Wesley novel and a man she knew to be a butler.

The lengths a girl went for love!

Introductions taken care of, Patrick got right down to business with his primping and titivating. The first task he undertook was to refine the line of her brows and outline her eyes with a smudge of kohl, emphasizing a feline tilt she had been unaware she possessed. Using a tinted moisturizer and an expert touch, he massaged a delicate blush of color into her smooth skin and then highlighted the angle of her cheekbones with two shades that he skillfully blended to emphasis the angle. Around her mouth he had penciled a deep, glossy outline, blocking in her lips with a warmer shade of the same base and bleeding the two to produce a pout.

When he had declared himself finished with her face, Patrick then turned his attention to Brianna’s hair. After some deliberation, he brushed her lovely hair until it gleamed and bounced before drawing the thick glossy curls back and up. Ignoring Brianna’s feeble protests, he anchored most of the curls away from her face by winding two shiny white strips in a cris-cross. Satisfied, he patted a curl into final submission.

‘So…’ Patrick stood back and peered at her reflection in the gilded dressing table mirror. ‘What do you think?’

‘I look…different.’ Brianna angled her head to the right and left, examining herself from different angles. She did. She looked sophisticated without being flashy.

‘Do you like it?’ Patrick hovered in anticipation of her disapproval.

‘Yes.’ Absolutely. ‘Where ever did you learn to do this?’

‘A bit here. A bit there. You’d be surprised.’ He looked almost coy. ‘I’m a man of many talents.’

‘So we are discovering,’ intervened the hawk-eyed Emmaline. ‘You look lovely, Brianna. Plan-B is coming into place nicely.’

She took the next step willingly. ‘Now, let’s look at my clothes.’

Patrick sighed dramatically. ‘Show me your wardrobe.’

Brianna led him into the walk-in robe adjacent to her bedroom. One look at the line of neatly hung dresses, skirts and tops and Patrick threw up his hands. ‘Now I’m a magician.’

‘I know.’ Brianna pulled a face. ‘Is it hopeless?’

‘No, no.’ Ignoring her murmur of concern, he stepped past her and began swishing along the rail. ‘Nothing is hopeless. It just presents me with a greater challenge. Now this has potential,’ he declared, darting forward and lifting out a short-line white silk shirt that had tailored body line darts. He swung it around for the other Angels to examine.

‘I haven’t worn that for years.’ Brianna bent past Miss Harriet to take a closer look. ‘I’ve probably outgrown it.’

‘Defeatist talk! You grew into it.’ He held it up against her. ‘White is a good basic color. Almost anything goes with it.’

Brianna took it from him and stretched it across her breasts. ‘Don’t you think it will be too revealing?’

‘It will be perfect. Despite what you think, the tailored look is a good style for you. You don’t suit fussy and bother.’ Right into his role, he turned back to the rack. After some searching, he lifted out a misty-gray skirt of gossamer fine pleated chiffon, which overlay a narrow underskirt of a satin in a deeper shade. The chiffon swished seductively over the underskirt as he offered it to Brianna for inspection.

‘I haven’t worn that since graduation.’ She took it from him and held it up to herself, examining her reflection in the long wardrobe fastened against the wall. ‘It’s a bit short to wear if I’m going to be riding with Jesse on his bike.’

‘It covers what counts.’ Patrick took the skirt from her and set it aside with the top. He glanced along the row of shoe trees aligned neatly against the far wall, selecting a pair of low-heeled leather pumps. ‘These will do. You have a good eye for color. Many of the clothes you have in here are classical. With the right mix and matching, you will look like a new woman. We can shop for casual clothes next week. Do you have any specific requirements.’

‘Would you help me buy a ball dress? Jesse wants me to go to the Moonshine Ball with him.’ She cast a glance at the one formal dress she had, swathed in a clear layer of thick protective plastic. It was her classic black, expertly fashioned from heavy watered silk, long-sleeved, tailored and unadorned. ‘Or I could wear this one.’ She pointed it out.

He gave the dress one caustic glance and shuddered. ‘Absolutely not. Black is not your color.’ Patrick’s face took on a look of sublime rapture. ‘I would love to help you find the right dress.’

‘Earth to Patrick.’ Emmaline clapped her hands. ‘That comes later.’ She tapped her wrist watch. ‘Right now we have to get Brianna ready for tonight.

From the reverential expression on the parking attendant's face, Brianna was certain this was the first time he had ever been asked to park a Harley. She curbed an urge to give the man a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as she handed over her helmet and slid the strap of her handbag over her shoulder.

‘I think that man has been bowled over by your bike.’

Jesse scowled. ‘Don’t kid yourself, babe. He didn’t even notice the bike. The guy couldn’t take his eyes off your legs.’ He leaned his head on one side, considering her. ‘You look different tonight. I like the way you’ve fixed your hair.’

‘Thanks.’ She hid her smile and dusted down the hem on her skirt, removing an invisible smut. ‘I had help.’

'Fix my tie for me, will you darlin'.'

She made a minor adjustment to the knot of Jesse's narrow black wool tie - an ebony exclamation mark against his black silk shirt. Pleated trousers were belted snugly around his trim waist, and his battered leather jacket was hooked over one shoulder.

'Do I pass muster?'

'You'll do, at a pinch.' She smoothed a stubborn lock of hair back into place. 'My brothers are going to love the earring.'

'Am I to going to be paraded before your entire family.'

'Not all of them. My sister, Katie, doesn't come home until next month.' She looped her arm through his and steered him toward the nearest exit.

'You play dirty pool.' His voice took on a wheedling tone. 'I'll be too nervous to enjoy the music, wondering if they were weighing me up the whole time. Couldn't we go home after the meal?'

'If that's all you're worrying about, you can relax. You'll like my family, I promise. Besides, my brothers wouldn't be seen dead at something like Madam Butterfly. My youngest brother, Stephen is into loud heavy lead music. One of his favorite groups is playing at Jade stadium next week and he would kill for a ticket.'

'Now she tells me,' he complained. He gave her a closed look. 'And it's heavy metal, not heavy lead. What's the name of this group?'

'Umm.' She had to think for a moment. 'Something about sailors or soldiers I think.' She shrugged. 'Sorry, I wasn't paying much attention when he told me.'

'Soldier Boys?'

'That's it. Pretty weird, don't you think? They probably jump up and down and beat their naked chests in tune to tom-toms.'

Jesse purposefully steered them into an empty parking space. 'I'm the lead singer in the group.'

'You?' She forced her mouth to close. 'Truly?'

'Cross my heart.'

'Oh...you. Jesse, I...' Brianna closed her eyes. 'I've got a terrible feeling that if I say anything more, I'll swallow my foot.'

'You got it wrong, anyway. We sing rock, not heavy metal. I can get tickets in the gold circle and back stage passes, if you’d like?'

'Are you sure you want us to come?'

'Not you, Brianna,' he corrected with a shake of his head. 'Just your brothers, and they can each bring a friend.'

She stared at him, hurt.

He felt like a heel for denying her, but stuck to his guns. 'This is the second to last concert on this tour, babe. The guys and I spent a long time cutting our latest disc and putting the act together for this tour. We've been on the road for four months promoting the label and frankly, I'm jaded. The only reason I'm hanging around Christchurch longer than the few days it takes to stage the show is that my agent booked my appearance at the "Moonshine Ball". When you see me give a full performance, I'm vain enough to want you to see me at my best. Trust me, there'll be other times you can come see me perform, I promise.' Jesse dipped into his pant's pocket and extracted a tissue-wrapped package. 'Here,' he said and with little ceremony, thrusting the small package into her hand. 'Take this instead.'

Brianna's fingers convulsed around the gift. 'What's the occasion, or is this more romancing?'

'I--um. It's a birthday present, kind of.'

She made a quirky little smile. 'My birthday is in April.'

'So?' He shrugged in an off-hand way. 'Let's just say I'm making up for lost opportunities.'

Intrigued, she began to pull apart the layers of tissue. Nestled within was a delicate charm bracelet fashioned from links of beaten gold. Exclaiming her delight, Brianna held it up, examining each of the trinkets, one by one. There was a miniature motor bike, a sun, a house, a shoe - she laughed out loud at that. The fifth was a guitar and the last was a tiny heart. At its center was a chip of ruby.

'I don't know what to say.'

'How about, thank you, Jesse.'

'Thank you, Jesse. It's beautiful,' she told him and stretched up to kiss his cheek. 'You're a very giving person.'

'It's nothing,' he depreciated and he took the bracelet from her, fastening it securely around her right wrist. The kiss he brushed across her mouth was fleeting, almost passionless. ‘Hold up,’ he said as she started forward again. ‘Before we get out of here, tell me a little about the welcoming committee, okay?'

'You're nervous?'

'Who wouldn't be?’ He kinked his neck and ran a finger around the inside edge of his collar, loosening the tie. ‘Your old man's a Lordship with connections in high places, probably all the way to God and beyond. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that your mother is on a first name basis with the Queen of England. They're up there,' he indicated the heavy concrete basement car park roof with a crooked thumb. 'And they've got your grandparents and a couple of your friends for reinforcement.'

'We're a very relaxed family.'

'That depends on your perspective. My idea of a relaxed family time is spending an evening jamming with the guys.'

'No one will stand on formality.' She dusted an imaginary fleck of fluff off his wide shoulder. 'There. Good enough to meet the Vicar.'

'He's not going to be here, as well, is he!'

Brianna grinned. 'Not tonight. Uncle James is the Canon of St Michael's, and I usually attend one of his Sunday Services. Do you want to come?'

Jesse undid all the good work she had effected on his tie as he worked his top button loose. 'It's been a long time since I've had a hankering to see the inside of any Church.' It would be interesting to know whether he could still find the words to say a prayer in the quiet of the sanctuary, as opposed to the furtive plea bargains he resorted to of late in the rush of desperation. 'I bought into that save-my-soul stuff when I was no more than ten and still impressionable. My adoptive mother was going through a religious stage and dragged us along every Sunday to the local Baptist Church for a double dose of Sunday School and the gospel service. As I recall, I was mighty taken by the singing mostly and I wanted to be part of the Church choir. They wore wonderful flowing gowns, over stitched in gold and I thought they looked and sang better than my image of the angels. One Sunday, after a particularly spirited sermon about hellfire and damnation, the call went out for folks to turn from their wicked ways. To everyone’s amazement, including mine, I stood and marched down the center aisle straight up to the Pastor. While he laid hands on me and prayed for salvation, that choir pounded out a rousing chorus of "Jesus I Come" that nearly made me weep it was so powerful. Maybe that is where my inspiration for soul and rock originated. Those people could use their voices in a way that made even the rafters shake.’ He shook his head as he remembered. ‘It’s been a long time. Do you think God still believes in me?'

She tightened her hand in his. 'Did He ever stop?'

They took the internal elevator from the basement car park up to the hotel foyer. As they stepped out, Brianna looked around for her parents and spotted them waiting with her grandparents and Jane-Anne and Graeme Cole on the other side of the marbled foyer. When she raised her arm to wave, the tiered chandelier overhead sprayed fragmented light that danced across her bracelet, causing the gold to sparkle. Even though she owned several pieces of jewelry, most of which she judged were worth far more in monetary terms, the thrill she felt for the bracelet was intrinsic. She would treasure it as a gift beyond price.

'Hello everyone,' she greeted, as they drew close. 'Mum, Dad, you remember Jesse Lawless?'

'Certainly.' Michael Alexander offered his hand, giving Jesse a piercing look at the same time. ‘You’re a hard man to forget, Jesse.’

Jesse recognized the unspoken question behind the statement, and he sympathized with the man. After all, what father would want someone with his reputation taking out his daughter? Convincing this man that he wasn't on the take was going to be an uphill battle.

'Sir.' They shook hands perfunctorily.

'Please,' Brianna's mother interjected with a friendly smile. 'Let's not stand on ceremony. It's Michael and I'm Ellen.' She placed her perfectly manicured hand on Jesse's arm and turned him toward Brianna's grandparents. 'Let me introduce you to Michael's parents, Henry and Lucille Alexander. This is Brianna's friend, Jesse Lawless.'

Henry Alexander stood and extended his work-roughened hand. 'Pleased to meet you,' he said in his gruff way, sending Brianna a surreptitious wink which she pretended not to notice. 'I've been wanting to meet Brianna's mysterious new friend.'

'Which of you wants tickets to Soldier Boys concert? Jesse asked, eyeing the two young men standing beside Henry Alexander.

'I do,' Stephen answered before he could stop himself. He’d promised himself that he would not behave like a gormless fan and the first time the guy talks to him, he blows it. 'Did Brianna tell you I liked your music?'

'I confess,' Jesse said easily. 'But the information was given with a great deal of prejudice. She thinks Soldier Boys are into heavy lead and that we prance about on stage wearing tights, make-up and beating tom-toms.'

David, being the eldest of the brothers by two years considered himself to be more the man about town. He raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. Like Stephen, he also felt himself succumbing to Jesse's frank manner and relaxed his guard. Above Brianna's head, he swapped a superior, you-know-how-it-is, male sort of smile with Jesse.

'We've been working on her education for years, but I think it's a lost cause.'

'It must be a woman thing,' Jesse offered, giving him a sly smile in return. 'I'm hoping you'll accept the tickets to the concert as a bribe to taking our places at the opera tonight.'

The brothers shouted NO! at the very same time.

Jesse sighed, accepting his sentence with a fatalistic shrug. 'I know just how you feel.'

Impatient for an introduction and through with waiting on the side lines, seven months into her first pregnancy, Jane-Anne Cole's expanding girth got between them when she leaned forward to give Brianna a hug. 'What a hunk,' she said under her breath. 'I didn't think it was possible, but he looks better in the flesh than in his pictures.'

'Just behave,' Brianna whispered back, firing Jane-Anne a warning volley.

She may as well have saved her effort for all the notice Jane-Anne took of the caution. They had met the day they started the New Entrants class together at Campion House and they had been firm friends ever since, closer if possible than sisters. In Jane-Anne's opinion, nothing was sacred between them, and she was about as subtle at soliciting the information she wanted as was a zit on a debutante’s nose.

Jane-Anne gave an irrepressible laugh. 'Introduce us,' she prompted, linking her arm through that of her husband Graeme's and using him for ballast.

Overhearing, Jesse answered for Brianna with a cool smile, 'As you might have guessed, I'm Jesse Lawless. And you are?'

'Nosy,' Graeme Cole replied on his wife's behalf, ignoring the glare she gave him that was hot enough to fry eggs. As tall and wiry as his wife was petite and dimpled, Graeme Cole's weathered complexion, wide shoulders and chapped hands proclaimed him to be man of the land; one of a breed of people whose toil and dedication had long formed the back-bone of New Zealand's economy. 'I'm Graeme,' he amended with an apologetic smile. 'This is Jane-Anne, my wife.'

Laughter at Graeme's comment broke any remaining ice.

'Young man, you have no idea how thrilled I am to meet you.' This was coming from Brianna's grandmother who had remained seated and silent throughout the initial interplay. Ever the lady, she offered Jesse a warm smile and the tips of her finger. At seventy odd, she still retained much of her former elegance and grace. 'When Ellen informed us you would be joining our party tonight, I recognized your name straight away. I'm the only one in the family who reads the weeklies. I dug out my old magazines and reread every word. Including,' she cautioned and wagged her finger in warning, 'That silly little article in today's tabloid. I cannot see how any sensible person would believe a word of it.' She angled just a little closer. 'I can tell you, the girls at bridge will be pea-green with envy when I tell them next week that I had dinner with a famous Hollywood movie star.'

'Ma'am,' Jesse touched his lips to the back of Lucille's knuckles. 'The pleasure is all mine.'

'Enough of that.' She tipped her head to one side and considered him through bright eyes. 'Do you play bridge, by any chance?'

He shook his head. 'Black Jack and Poker are more my style, Ma'am.'

'Please, call me Lucille,' she instructed. 'Do you play for high stakes? Or,' she inquired in an outrageous manner, 'Do you, shall we say....strip?'

If he felt any surprise, Jesse hid it well, not missing a beat as he bent toward Lucille, his reply just loud enough for the surrounding family to hear. 'Only for a Lady, Lucille.'

Lucille cast an audacious glance at her long-suffering spouse who was following the conversation with amusement. 'Look after Brianna, Henry,' she commanded with an airy wave of her hand. 'This young man can sit next to me at dinner.' Lucille rose with a swish of her silken skirt and indicated that she wished Jesse to take her elbow and escort her toward the restaurant door.

Jane-Anne took the opportunity to buttonhole Brianna. 'Now I know why you haven't rung me for over a week, and I thought you must be pouring over a hot keyboard writing your next novel,' Jane-Anne whispered to Brianna with an I-know-what-you've-been-up-to smile.

'I've been busy.'

'So I see, you sneaky thing.' Her smile grew and she dug Brianna in the side with her elbow. 'Very busy. Let's get together soon for coffee and have a good gossip?'

'Do I have a choice?'

'Nope.' Baby bulge forging a path, Jane-Anne took a firm hold of her husband's strong arm and followed after Jesse and Brianna's grandmother.

Next morning, Jesse's presence at St Michael's ruined the Sunday service for Brianna, who heard only a tenth of the sermon. The readings might have been in Latin, or even Klingon, for all the sense they made to her.

She muddled through the order of service by dint of force of habit, her mind distracted by the man beside her. In one night Jesse had her grandmother eating out of his hand and her normally canny grandfather had offered to show him around his construction site. Henry had even extended an invitation for Jesse to visit "New Beginnings" on the following Tuesday afternoon. Brianna could well imagine what would happen when Jesse turned up astride his massive motor cycle. The average age of those who attended the courses held at "New Beginnings" was seventeen, and unlike Brianna, every one of them was certain to know who Jesse was on first sight. It wasn't so surprising then that she imagined the entire host of heavenly angels succumbing to his brand of irresistible charm.

After taking their leave from her family following the service, Jesse took her back to her cottage, but declined her offer of lunch. 'I've got some problems in the show that I need to work on with the band.' He took her helmet and looped it around the handle bar. 'I'll be tied up most of Monday and Tuesday morning getting things together for the concert.' He hesitated fractionally. 'My agent's been here before and likes the place. He's renting a house out at the beach for the summer so he and his wife can stay on after the last concert. They will be throwing a pre-concert bash for the whole crew on Wednesday. What say I pick you up about nine?'

Brianna nibbled on her lower lip. 'Who will be there?'

'Besides the group, there will be the sound and lighting crew, and the support team mostly. Come on Brianna, don't look away from me, I'm not asking you to dance naked on a table or any damned thing. Just come meet a few friends of mine. Bend a little. Let your hair down and have some fun.'

She tried to quell her nervousness as she met his eye. 'I don't find it easy mixing with strangers.'

'This from the lady who conquered Africa.'

'That was different.'

Jesse crooked a finger under her chin and urged her face up toward his. 'Just be yourself.' His eyes reflected his smile. 'I'll take care of you.'

She gave in with a smile. 'Okay. See you Wednesday then.'

'Tuesday,' he corrected. 'Have you forgotten, I'm being shown around "New Beginnings" in the afternoon?'

'Oh, goody. I can hardly wait.'

Jesse laughed and started the Harley. 'Not nice,' he admonished, and chucked her under the chin before leaving her standing on the doorstep with nothing more than a wave.

Long before Jesse Lawless turned the Harley into his garage, he knew it was time to stop running. The intensity and honesty of his feelings for Brianna had shred the remaining barriers hate and anger had erected between his emotions and his instinct for self-preservation. Brianna's unconditional love had affected him, reaching into the core of his being until it had touched long-buried needs and the root of his festering anger. It was the bright shinning flame that had driven away his darkness. She had made him face up to the fact that any love in his life up until now had been second hand or a sham.

After years surrounded by men and women who hid avarice and ambition behind practiced smiles, he knew he had found more than he had ever dared ask or think or dream. What had begun so painfully between them in the Cathedral Square had been strengthened by everything she had done or said since. Brianna wasn't capable of pretending the passion she felt when they touched or kissed. In those mesmerizing blue eyes, he had seen such commitment and softness.

He'd even found himself liking her family, which must mean his brain had been scrambled somewhere along the way. The Alexander's were upper-class, with manners refined enough to know which fork to eat off first, but he'd soon found out they weren't stuck up for all that. After the initial settling-in time, when they'd taken each others measure, Jesse had found himself accepted by the group with an ease that made him feel one of them, something he'd believed would be denied him. … Being part of a family.

The door opened, spilling a stream of florescent light into the courtyard as Patrick stepped out. ‘Si…Jesse. I thought I heard you return.’

Jesse had become too used to the man’s sudden appearances to feel uneasy by his unheralded presence. He scuffed the toe of the boot Patrick had fastidiously polished earlier against the flagstones. It made a harsh rasping sound. ‘You ever wonder about what’s at the end of the road and how we came to be there?’

‘Yes. I believe there are reasons for the paths we take.’ Patrick stepped closer.

‘What else do you believe in?’ Jesse dropped to his haunches, resting his back against the garden wall. It was too nice a night to go inside. He was too restless to be confined.

Gauging Jesse’s mood, Patrick had a good understanding of the underlying motive that had spurred Jesse’s question. ‘That every man and every woman is part of a higher universal plan.’

Jesse made a gruff sound at the back of his throat. ‘Something else you learned at Butler’s school?’ Here he was again, getting up close and personal with this man. He was beginning to behave … girlie! What was it about Patrick that made him feel comfortable enough around him to talk on this level anyway? He was the butler. They’d only met last week, the same day he’d met Brianna.

Maybe it was something in the drinking water, he told himself, trying to explain away the coincidence. It wasn’t his face, for sure. Jesse cast the man a hurried glance, but dismissed the thought before it grew, not prepared to go down that path. He knew which side of the closet door he belonged. The most he’d ever shared with another guy had been the usual adolescent crap stuff; how good it felt, how big her breasts were. That sort of lying bull. It was all part of the unwritten guy’s code. No real man would be caught dead asking another for advise, not unless he had some problem with understanding his own gender. What he didn’t know, hell, he made up! That was the rule. Bluff and bluster were a man’s stock in trade. Every guy knew that from the time he was old enough to lock the bedroom door and not get the Playboy magazine or flashlight sticky. Even with Seth, his closest buddy, it had been on a need to know basis and guess work. He sure hoped he wasn’t in for another dose of that lovey-dovey stuff the man had ladled out previously. He was already suffering from emotional overload after his time with Brianna.

Not wanting to overplay his hand, Patrick made to withdraw. Jesse stopped him with an upraised hand. ‘I’m not used to sharing my thoughts, but I sense you’re a clued up guy.’ He swallowed a lifetime of misguided pride. ‘Tell me, can we make up for our mistakes?’

‘Maybe there are no mistakes.’ Patrick smiled. ‘Just lessons to be learned.’

‘Ouch.’ Jesse’s grin flashed on and off. ‘A riddle. Would you care to explain?’

‘I don’t need to. I think you will find the answer right before your eyes.’ Boldly now, Patrick approached until he was close enough to be considered a threat. ‘Don’t give up. Ask yourself, why did the wrong road take the right turn? The answer to that explains what life is all about.’

Oh boy! Jesse knew he had left himself right open for this. It left him shaken and uncertain, not a feeling he enjoyed. He leaned his head back to glare up at the man, only to be met by a look so filled with compassion that the anger shriveled and died. Uncomfortable now, he hoisted himself back onto his feet and stepped aside, making a show of studying the dark garden.

Understanding Jesse’s need to be alone, Patrick silently retreated.

Standing in that courtyard, uncomfortable and vulnerable, Jesse had a strong presentiment that, should he so decide, he need never be alone again. It made him feel as comfortable as a naked male kiss-o-gram, sent by mistake to sing a bawdy song at a Southern Baptist women's convention.

He'd searched a long time to find the answer to Patrick’s riddle, supped at many a table, slept in too many beds. He'd bought the lie, and along the way, he'd nearly sold his soul, only to find it had been ransomed in full on his behalf….and all along he’d known the answer. The price that had been paid had been given in love.

He knew that because he knew that he loved Brianna…..loved her smiles, her intelligence and determination, her quiet fortitude and unaffected warmth. He loved the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body responding beneath his touch. He loved her spirit and when aroused, her passion-fire. Being with her was endlessly exciting, not just in a purely sexual sense either, but in a far more lasting way. Sure, he still wanted to get physical with her, only not for his former lusty reasons. Against the odds, he had found the intrinsic essence of Brianna far more appealing.

Scared, feeling a failure and four parts a fool, Jesse Lawless, singer, poet, star of the silver screen, lover and loner, sinner and sometimes saint, gave his heart away.

The whole host of heaven exploded in a tremendous cheer that shook the upper most reaches of the universe. Heaven had waited a long time for this human to figure out which way was up and take the first, most important step on his journey home.

Brianna squinted through the fading twilight at the magnificent, turn of the century wooden villa nestled into the lee of Scarborough Hill. The mullion windows were lit from within as brightly as the jeweled lights on a Christmas tree. From the volume of noise that rolled downhill toward them, the party was already in full swing. A particularly loud blast of music and laughter ripped through the calm of the evening.

'Sounds as though the party's beginning to warm up.' Jesse slipped his arm around her waist to guide her forward and his smile flashed in the darkness. 'Still feeling nervous about meeting my friends?'

She sent him a sly you'd-better-watch-out-mister glance from under her lashes. 'Not at all. I'm going to make this an evening to remember.'

Jesse was put immediately on his guard. 'You know, babe, I really hate surprises, so why don't you tell me what you meant by that.'

‘These past few days, I've taken time to have a good look at myself, and I've decided I need to change.'

'I'd like to think that this means you're going on a diet. Tell me I'm right.'

'Wrong.'

'Great! Just don't get any cock-eyed ideas. The way I see it, you’re one of a kind. Good, kind and honest.'

'Which translates to dull and boring.' Brianna gave a slight shudder. 'There's a whole new world out there waiting for me to experience it.'

He backed up a pace and crossed his arms over his chest. The beleaguered expression he wore gave him the look of a man expecting to hear something unpleasant. 'Don’t think I haven’t noticed your new clothes.’ He awarded himself extra time to take in again the soft stone-washed Levi’s riding intimately low on her hips and the cashmere top she’d teamed with them. They looked good on her and he was jealous enough not to want any other man recognizing that fact. ‘What exactly are planning?'

Her blue eyes were beseeching. 'I'm nearly thirty, Jesse. I don't want to wake up one day and find I'm nearly forty and life has passed me by. I want to have some fun.'

'Whoa babe!' Reaching out, he snagged her shoulders, bring her close enough to feel the heat from her body, smell her intoxicating perfume. 'You'd better get a grip and remember the rules.'

'Hey, I'm a lady, unshackled,' she corrected and wriggled free with a sinuous movement. ‘You told me to loosen up and that's exactly what I intend to do.' She crooked a finger. 'So, come on honey, let's party.'

The vaulted front room was awash with color and noise, carpeted wall to wall with people jostling for space. A smiling stranger toting a loaded tray unceremoniously thrust a stemmed pottery container of red wine into her hand. Jesse declined a similar drink with a shake of his head. Anchoring her firmly to his side, he side-stepped along the perimeter of the room until he found space enough for them to breathe. Someone recognized him and he turned and shouted a pithy acknowledgment across the room.

Using her mug as a pointer, she indicated his empty hand. 'You don't drink alcohol do you?

The serious expression that settled in his golden eyes was at odds with the smile that touched his mouth. 'My pappy always warned me that wine and women would be my ruin.'

'Were they?'

'Damned near. Since the trial, I've sworn off the booze and pills.'

She cocked her head slightly, picking up on the throw away comment. 'And women?'

Oblivious to the speculative attention they were attracting from those looking on, Jesse touched his forehead to hers, his voice a throaty whisper that brushed across her lips. 'All but one.'

Made more daring by his mood, Brianna lifted her face to meet his, her lips parted and pouty.

'Jesse, boyo.' A big man, with a big smile, big belly and even bigger voice smacked Jesse squarely between the shoulders in a gesture boisterous enough to make him wince.

They jumped apart with a guilty start.

'None of that in my house,' the man cautioned with a deep rumbling laugh that came from down in his belly. 'You'll give the rest of us naughty ideas.'

'Brianna, meet Grey Barry.' Jesse flexed his shoulder. '"Soldier Boys" one-of-a-kind agent, who has the dubious distinction of acting as our host for tonight.'

'What's a nice wee girlie the likes of yourself doing with this reprobate?'

It was impossible for Brianna not to like Grey Barry, or take affront from his question. He must be the hairiest, loudest, friendliest looking individual she had ever laid eyes on. With his cerise satin shirt open to his substantial waist, Brianna could make out numerous gold chains and medallions buried in the coarse, wiry rug of chest hair, the carroty color of which matched his untrimmed beard and the stubble on his shorn head. She returned his smile. 'I'm his minder.'

'When hell freezes over.'

Grey ignored Jesse's interruption and the wink he offered Brianna was roguish. 'Well,' he said. 'You're too lovely for the likes of himself, but you're welcome to mind me.'

'And I think you'd better stop drinking any more of your own home brew,' Jesse warned. 'It's pickled what's left of your brain.'

It appeared Grey's hide was as thick as his Celtic accent. Despite Jesse's mock scowl, he took possession of Brianna's hand. 'Enchanting.' He raised her fingers to his mouth in a noble, old world gesture and touched his lips to the back of her knuckles. 'Run away with me. We'll have glorious sex every day and raise ten children, all of whom will be as lovely as your own sweet self.'

'I'd be honored.’ She indicated the engraved wedding band on his finger. ‘But won't your wife object?'

'Begorra! That she would.' Grey slapped a massive palm to his forehead. 'Lovely woman, my wife. The light of my life. Why, if she knew I was making an improper proposition in such an unmannerly fashion, she'd strip me of my hairy hide one painful inch at a time. Then she’d hang it on the fence post as warning to all others who would attempt to seduce such as yourself. I should have introduced you to her first. She's a stickler for manners.'

'You're about to get an opportunity to rectify your mistake then,' Jesse told him with a smirk. 'Mary is heading in our direction, and let me tell you, she's looking mean and lean.'

For a man of Grey Barry's size and massive girth, he could move with amazing speed when he had a mind to. It appeared that the sight of his petite wife bearing down on him gave him all the incentive he needed. 'Mary, my love.' He opened his arms full stretch and plowed a course forward. 'Just the woman I want. Come and meet Jesse's friend.'

Mary Barry neatly side-stepped her husband's outstretched arms. Hands on her boyishly slim hips she confronted Jesse. 'Has he been misbehaving himself at all?'

Jesse's look was one of assumed innocence. 'Not a word, Mary.' He put a hand to his heart. 'I swear on my honor. Say hello to Brianna.'

Momentarily distracted, Mary sent Brianna a polite greeting. 'Thanks for entertaining Grey, but I'll borrow him back now, if you don't mind. He has a tendency to forget things.'

'What do I forget, Mary my love?'

'Me, my darling.' She crooked her index finger. 'Come with me into the parlor and I'll help you remember what it is about me that you love.'

Grey Barry's already ruddy complexion mirrored the color of his gaudy shirt. He swallowed audibly and hooked a finger into the back of his collar. 'Mary, my love. We have a house full of guests. Is this the---'

Mary overrode Grey's half-hearted objections with a husky chuckle. She gave her husband a slow sweep beneath lowered lashes and when she looked back at Brianna, her brown eyes twinkled. 'See you around, you two. Enjoy the party and let yourselves out. Grey and I have things to...talk about that will take some time to resolve.' With a seductive swish of her skirt, she turned and left.

Tossing them a look of distracted apology, Grey was panting at her heels. When they were as safely alone as being in a room with seventy odd people that would allow, Brianna collapsed against Jesse and gave in to a fit of the giggles.

'If all your friends are half as unique, then I know I'm going to enjoy myself tonight.'

'Thankfully not, or I'll end up spending the night fighting them off.'

She pooh-poohed the idea. 'Even I could tell that Grey was joking. We would only have had three children.' Ignoring his scowl, Brianna quickly finished off the rest of her wine and set the pottery container aside. The encounter with the Barry's had left her feeling wonderfully light-hearted. She licked her lips to a glossy sheen and fluffed up her hair until it crackled with a will of its own. 'Why don't you make yourself useful and point out the other members of your group,' she instructed. 'I have a yen to rub shoulders with superstars.'

'No way, lady. Any flirting,' he warned, 'And you'll be in deep trouble.'

‘You’re too uptight, Jesse. Sit down, take a load off your feet.’ She patted Jesse's arm and gave him her sunniest of smiles. Taking a step away from him she glanced this way and that around the crowded room.

Suspicious of her intentions, he narrowed his golden dragon eyes. 'What are you looking for?'

'A table.' She tugged at her knit top, pulling the creamy fabric free of her snug fitting pants and tying the ends in a knot above her navel. 'I feel like dancing.'

Seth approached from behind, drink in hand. His appearance gave Brianna a chance to slip past Jesse and thread herself into the closest group of people.

'Still with Alice in Wonderland, I see. I would have sworn you were a man who liked your after-dinner treats to pack more punch than milk chocolate with honey at the center.'

'Tastes change, just like people.' Jesse took his eyes off Brianna long enough to slide Jack a side-ways glance. 'Do you believe in miracles, Seth?'

'I thought this was about sex, not religion,' Seth said and made a derisive sound in the back of his throat. 'Would you care to be a little more specific.'

'I'm going to marry her.'

‘Shit!' The mouthful of beer Seth had just swallowed choked him.

'I know how you feel,' Jesse commiserated, ramming his friend on the back. 'It hit me much the same way. You ever heard it said that a good woman is of more value than rubies, Seth?'

Seth’s silence was an eloquent denial.

'It comes from the Bible somewhere.'

'Isn't Playboy more your style of reading material?'

'It was, but I've changed. Take a good look,' he encouraged, indicating Brianna with a nod. ‘She is the genuine article. Beside her, the other women I've known seem like cheap zirconium imitations.'

'What about Louise? You were pretty carried away when you married her and look where that little escapade landed you.'

‘If you weren't my friend, I'd be tempted to punch you in the mouth for that. Brianna is not cut from the same cloth as the likes of Louise. She is generous to a fault, honest, determined and passionate. I'm in love with her.'

'Don't let this woman rent a room in your head, Jesse. You only met her two weeks ago. That's hardly long enough to be contemplating this sort of commitment.' He laid a cautionary hand on Jesse's shoulder. 'Marriage is something men like us only live to regret.'

Jesse shook his head. 'I've thought about this long enough and I won't regret it.' His grin widened. 'I can't wait to spend the rest of my life getting to know her. She's everything I've ever wanted.'

'You're beginning to sound like a cliché. I think you're making a big mistake.'

'Not this time. I've made a few mistakes, for sure, but only two that I wish I could undo.'

'Why do I get the feeling you're going to tell me about them?' Seth asked with a fatalistic ring to his voice.

For a long moment, Jesse watched Brianna as she moved through the room, charming and flirting with his friends. 'I promised myself when I was fifteen that I would never again allow someone to hurt me by loving them.'

Seth took a long pull of his beer. 'That's a big call for a kid to make. Being alone can really screw you up.'

'Sure did. It taught me not to trust anyone, which was my second mistake.' Jesse looked his friend full in his face, and grinned. 'It's amazing what being in love can do to a man. When I first realized what was happening between us, there was a part of me that just couldn't believe I would find so much happiness.' The part of him that was still too much his father's son - the young man who had learned to expect rejection instead of acceptance. The youth who had dared to be different from his father and been branded a rebel not worthy of love. He clapped Seth hard on his shoulder, and was rewarded with a wince.

'You should find yourself a good woman, friend, before you become a confirmed old cynic.'

'No way.' Raising his hand as of to ward off Jesse's advice, Seth backed up a step. 'Why don't you just seduce her, like you originally planned, and get the hell out of here before you dig yourself into a big hole you won't be able to crawl back out of.'

'I've tried that. It didn't work.'

'Then run, man, while you've still got time.'

Jesse laughed. 'Too late, I'm hooked.' He swung around to search the room for Brianna, and when he had located her, he swore softly. 'Damn, will you look at that,' he said, taking a few stiff steps in her direction. ‘Charley O’Sullivan looks set to hit on Brianna. I'll have to go over there and punch his lights out.'

'Maybe I was wrong about the lady,' Seth admitted as he observed Brianna interacting with "Soldier Boys" drummer, another man with a reputation for trouble. 'If she can get Charley's attention, she's not all sugar and spice.' He shot out an arm, trapping Jesse by his shoulder. 'Before you get too involved fighting for her honor, just let me say something.'

Jesse's black brows came together in a defensive slash.

'Don't take this the wrong way,' Seth cautioned. His grin was weak.

'Get to the point, Seth.'

'I just wanted to wish you good luck. It's no big deal, but maybe if you need someone to stand up with you, I'm a starter. Facing the preacher alone is too much for one man to handle without help from his mates.'

'You're wrong,' Jesse said and swallowed the restriction in his throat. 'It means a big deal to me. Thanks.' A burst of raucous laughter alerted him of mischief. He swung back and dissected the room until he found Brianna flitting from group to group, casting her pixy spell over all his seen-it-all-done-it-all, worldly wise friends. For sanity's sake, he knew it was going to be shortest pre-concert party he had ever attended.

Emmaline kept her eyes fixed on the people milling before them. Seth Jackson’s on our list, isn't he?'

'Yes, yes. He’s on the schedule. Forget him for the moment, and concentrate on Brianna. Wasn't she sensational?' Hopping from foot to foot, Harriet practically crowed her delight. 'I just love it. Our little fledgling is turning into a veritable swan right before our eyes. Just goes to show what love can do.'

Patrick shuffled his feet. 'May I point out that Jesse doesn't share your enthusiasm.'

Harriet considered Patrick’s concern to be negligible. 'It's time for him to recognize that Brianna isn't going let him walk all over her. She's a woman in love. Maybe she is conservative by his standards, but she's not spineless. In this day and age offering unconditional love without resorting to bedroom tactics takes courage and determination. I can't wait to see what she'll do next.' Harriet rubbed her hands together. 'Oh, this assignment is turning out to be so exciting. Easy-peasy.'

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After having enjoyed herself so much at Wednesday night's party, Brianna prepared for the Moonshine Ball with careful deliberation.

Toweling herself after a long shower, she touched her pulse points and intimate places with Yves St Laurent's heady 'Opium' fragrance, before she stepped into a minuscule pair of panties and settled the scrap of satin and lace around her hips. The dress Patrick had helped her to buy was a stunning creation of old-gold silk and fragile Italian lace. The narrow-waisted, sleeveless creation had taken her two days of exhaustive shopping to find. It was prohibitively expensive and wickedly sensual.

She slipped into the dress, then drew her hair back from her face and fastened it behind her ears with golden combs. The luxurious tumble of burnished curls framed her face and fell in glorious abandon over her shoulders and back. Patrick had given her a number of useful make-up tips, which she had put to good use. Picking up a tube, she outlined her mouth with a deep shade of peach and applied enough gloss of a softer apricot to make her lips appear full, wet and inviting. Indigo eyeliner deepened the sapphire of her eyes to come-get-me midnight, shadowed and heavy. A pair of sandals that added four inches of pointed stiletto to her diminutive frame completed the ensemble.

As she surveyed the final result in the full-length mirror attached to her closet door, she felt as if a thousand butterflies were practicing aerobatics in her stomach, making her giddy. Even by her conservative standards, she knew she was looking her best.

By turns, she felt heart-stoppingly self-conscious and wonderfully feminine. There was no denying that she looked like a woman willing to ride a dragon, and didn't give a care who knew it.

The intoxicating thrill Jesse experienced when Brianna opened the door to him blew his preconceptions to kingdom come, not just because of the dress she was wearing, which was such a departure from her usual style of clothing that it made his senses reel. Although it wasn't immodest by most standards. In the years he had been involved with movie making and playing gigs with "Soldier Boys", he had seen scores of women in a lot less.

However, there were degrees of nakedness that had nothing to do with clothes.

Brianna could be covered from head to toe in a burlap flour sack, her glorious hair tied in a granny knot, and he'd still find her desirable. The problem, he knew, was rooted in his mind, among other places.

This was the woman of his wildest wet dreams.

The neckline of her dress was suspended from shoulder straps that seemed no wider than a single strand of spaghetti and about as substantial. It dipped low enough to hint at the shadowed cleft between her small breasts and his fingers developed an itch to hitch the front all the way up to her pretty neck and strangle her. If that wasn't enough to make him suffer, a glimpse of the back when she turned tantalizingly revealed naked skin from shoulder to waist. It was obvious Brianna wasn't wearing a bra and the spit in his mouth dried at the thought. The skirt was made of some sort of flirty lacy stuff that frou-froued in a cheeky swish from her slim hips to a point just above her shapely knees. He wouldn't care to bet that if she had a light behind her, the dress would offer little disguise for her all-too-apparent charms.

To add to his discomfort, she smelled like his idea of heaven.

A heady perfume, mingling with the natural fragrance of a woman who was giving off signals that she was ready for a whole lot of loving. At the thought, a spurt of desire pumped a dangerous overdose of male-hormones into his already surging blood stream. To his chagrin, with a ready will of its own, his manhood saluted her at full attention, and he was afraid he'd make a total idiot of himself by coming in his pants just by looking and wanting. Something he hadn't done since he was fourteen and spent an evening watching X-rated movies at a friend's house during term break.

He gave an agonized, silent groan.

If God was fair, then he could only hope that the set of his tuxedo trousers would mercifully conceal his physical desire. How was he going to keep his hands in his pocket when she looked and smelled and felt like an invitation to hanky-panky? He had this sinking feeling in the pit of his gut that he was in for another long night.

Jesse slanted Brianna a look that warned her he wasn't in any mood to be trifled with. 'What have you got under there?'

Brianna retained her outward appearance of calm as he gripped her by the shoulders and angled her this way and that. She husked a laugh. Slowly, she toyed her finger across the crisp front of his inky silk shirt and up and under his exquisite hand painted silk tie, brilliant against his sable tuxedo, which he wore with the same inborn panache that he did T-shirt and faded jeans. 'You show me yours, sailor, and I'll show you mine.'

‘Would it be too much to ask that you wear something that doesn't look like a damned night gown?'

'Don't you like it?' Brianna twirled around in front of him so that the gossamer golden lace billowed well above the danger line.

'Whether I like it or not is irrelevant.'

Assuming a pout, she pretended to examine her enameled finger tips. 'I'm afraid I don't have anything else that's suitable.'

'I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't.' Daggers darkened the dragon's eyes to points of intense danger. He ventured a hard finger down the exposed length of her spine. Every red-blooded man at the party tonight would be after her, and he would have to be careful not to deck one of them for getting too familiar. 'Your dress is a tantalizing mix of contradictions, just like you. Saint and sinner. I'm going to spend all night wondering which one will triumph.' He retraced his finger leaving a scar of possession in its wake. 'So will every other man there. Let's stay here and make our own entertainment.'

It was exhilarating to refuse him. 'I want to go to the ball.'

'Then change your dress, or I will.'

'Would it help?'

A muscle along his jaw ticked and his nostrils flared slightly as he sighed. 'Probably not. I burn up just looking at you, so you may as well be wearing a sack.'

'Thank you, Jesse.' Opening her eyes wide, she batted her lashes. 'What a lovely compliment.'

His breath was released on a long-suffering growl. 'Are you ready to go?'

'I need to get my purse.'

'Then go and get it, Brianna. Now! Or we'll never get out the door.'

Far from repentant, Brianna spun around and sauntered ahead of him toward her bedroom, each step exaggerating the upswing of her hips. Behind her, she heard his indrawn breath and smiled to herself.

Jesse fought every well-intentioned resolution.

And lost.

Reaching for her, he spun her about until nothing separated them that couldn't be removed.

And then he kissed her.

Furious. Exhilarating. Compelling.

His mouth shifted over hers with a relentless thirst and one hand drifted low on her back, pressing her into the cradle of his hard thighs. Not satisfied with taking her lips, he invaded her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers as he boldly explored all she offered. When he released her, eons later, she had to grab a fistful of Jesse's shirt to keep from stumbling. His eyes had darkened with a disturbing, unfathomable emotion.

More than lust.

Deeper than desire.

Jesse bunched the lacy skirt up around her hip, trailing fire as his questing fingers came in contact with the satiny edge of her underwear. Everything in Brianna slowed to a single heartbeat and shuddered to a halt. He followed the panty line, inching toward the apex of her thighs and she might as well have been naked for all the protection the satin afforded.

'Sweet thing, I want you so much that I think I'm going a little crazy with the waiting.' A little devil of laughter leapt into his eyes. 'You still want to go out?'

Brianna stepped back and smoothed the soft folds of her gown into place with unsure hands. 'Don't for one moment think I'm not as turned on by all this kissing and touching as you are,' she said in a small tight voice. 'I'll be a nervous wreck all night. Everything in me is screaming out for release.' She touched the corner of his mouth in a languid gesture, dipped it lower. 'You were right, Jesse.'

His black brows rose in question.

'Playing this waiting game is very, very hard.'

'Yeah, I know the feeling.' He took hold of her hand and removed it to higher ground before adjusting the set of his suit pants. 'So, what's the hold up? You were supposed to be collecting your purse.'

The car parked along side the curb looked every bit as hungry as his bike. Low, unembellished and drop-dead red, it dared her to enter at her own risk.

'Very nice.' Jesse had asked her the day before if she would prefer to ride in a car. She had welcomed the offer. As much as she loved riding pillion behind him, the thought of straddling the seat in a lacy dress hadn’t appealed much. She trailed her hand across the gleaming paint work.. 'Does it bite?'

Jesse keyed the lock and held open the door with a flourish. He placed his hand possessively on the small of her back, urging her forward. Since he'd seen her in this dress, just touching her bare skin wasn't all he wanted to do. 'No, but I do. Get in Brianna.'

Sinking onto six deep inches of luxuriously padded leather, Brianna cast an admiring glance over the amazing array of dials and gadgets on the dashboard. 'I'm impressed. She slanted a side-ways glance at Jesse as he slotted the key into the ignition and turned the switch. 'Did you trade in your bike, or steal it?'

'It's on hire for the night.'

She leaned across him and punched a few buttons at random. 'Whoops!' and she giggled in delight when the windscreen wipers swept across the tinted glass. She played with the floor shift. 'It's not the best design for making out.'

A rapid series of expressions shifted across Jesse's face - from surprise, to intrigue, to open lust. Not to be outsmarted by mechanization, his eyes took on a sly gleam and he angled close, embossing a line from her knee to her thigh with the back of his knuckles. The atmosphere in the metal confines of the car became so charged with emotion it practically crackled.

Only, more intense. Electrified.

He reached past her and retrieved the black webbed safety belt, deliberately grazing the peak of her breast when he pulled the belt around her and buckled it down. 'I vote we forget the party.'

'I wanted to dance until dawn.'

'Not damned likely!' Jesse touched his toe to the accelerator pedal, and the eight-cylinder engine emitted a growling rumble as low and throaty as a jet turbine. 'If we're still dancing together at dawn the only party you'll be at will be mine.'

It was to be a night filled with star dust and dreams.

It was the annual gathering the "Glitarazzo Tribe" as they had been justly named by some, to which Jesse owed nominal working allegiance. The gala event was being hosted on the grounds of the magnificent Mona Vale homestead, an estate which had once been owned by a wealthy and influential family whose ancestors had been some of Canterbury's earliest pioneers. On the death of the last family member, the house and extensive grounds had been willed as a legacy to the City of Christchurch.

As to be expected, the paparazzi were out in full force, clamoring for photo opportunities when Jesse swung his car close to the pavement directly in front of Mona Vale's ornate front entrance gates. Cars were crammed alongside the curb both sides of the block and spectators milled about in their effort to spot celebrities. Jesse offered them a casual wave as he activated the switch that lowered the electronically controlled windows and proffered an engraved invitation card to the waiting security guard. Willing to oblige them on this occasion, he answered in an easy manner questioning stridently put by reporters. Feeling conspicuous, Brianna scrunched further down in her seat and thanked small mercies for the anonymity of tinted glass. Each time a flash exploded, she winced, remembering the article that had accompanied the stolen photo taken of them at the Mac Donald restaurant. When one brash journalist tried to push his camera past Jesse to get a clearer shot of Brianna, Jesse blocked his way.

‘Not tonight, friend,’ he said, an edge of steel hardening his voice. ‘Let’s keep this simple.’

‘Come on, Jesse. We’re just trying to do our job,’ the man wheedled. ‘At least tell us the lady’s name.’

‘No comment.’

Having cautiously checked the details on Jesse's invitation against a list he held in his beefy hand, the guard shouldered the journalist aside as he handed the card back to Jesse. He waved their car through and signaled to the vehicle idling behind theirs to move forward.

‘That’s it, guys.’ He depressed the button to electronically raise the window. ‘I hope to see you all next week at Soldier Boys Auckland concert.’ He engaged the gear and set the car in motion.

‘You okay?’

‘I guess. You were pretty cool.’

Jesse laughed. ‘Handling the press is part of playing the game. If everyone sticks to the game-plan, then things go along smoothly. It’s only when some character oversteps the line, like that one back there, that things start getting screwed up. I have a publicity manager who’s job it is to handle most of their questions. Every once in a while I give a press conference and get my picture taken. If they try to invade my private life, then I get nasty.’ He flashed her a tight look. ‘Our relationship is none of their business.’

She raised her eyebrow and asked with a smile, ‘Is that what we have? A relationship?’

‘Well, we’re sure not having sex, babe, so what else would you call it?’

Outside the mansion, a liveried attendant waited on the steps, his uniform crisply ironed and his peaked hat squared on his forehead. As Jesse brought the car to a stop, the attendant leapt forward to open Brianna's door, assisting her out with a practiced flourish of his gloved hand. Fast on his heels came another servant, identically costumed, to escort them into the mansion's marbled foyer. Here Brianna was relieved of her jacket, which in turn was passed to a smiling cloakroom attendant before they were ushered through the wide flung patio doors, down onto the lawns, and escorted across the tiered gardens toward an enormous marquee which had been erected beneath the trees.

The white and gold canvas walls undulating lazily in the evening breeze and thousands of tiny lights were laced through the tree tops and around the marquee, adding an other-world charm to the setting. A small orchestra played soft music beneath a fringed canopy.

The three Angels were screened from view. Perched up among the highest reaches of a twisted and gnarled willow that overhung the gently sloping river bank, they avidly watched the proceedings below through parted foliage.

Of course, it would have been far simpler had they assumed a mantle of invisibility and stayed on the ground, but Patrick had remained adamant.

'This way,' he declared, as he swung his trousered legs back and forth, ‘Is bound to be far more fun.’

Jesse stopped a passing waiter and took a glass from his laden tray, proffering it to Brianna with an ironic bow. 'Welcome to my star-studded world, the gathering of the rich and beautiful.'

The bubbles of the one-hundred-dollar-a-bottle wine tickled her nose as she took a slow sip. More than a little awed, she gazed around her. 'Don't you like these sort of parties?'

'Not much.' The jerky shrug he made pulled the fabric of his tuxedo taut across his shoulders. 'I'm obliged to attend them from time to time for appearances sake.' He surveyed the glittering crowd with cynical eyes. 'There aren't many people here I would consider friends and the organizing committee will have invited a select number of press to mingle. I won’t be able to keep them away, so be prepared to have your picture taken.'

'Why on earth did you accept the invitation?'

The impatient sound he made was terse. 'Its all to do the with showbiz politics, babe. By being here, I'm helping to promote the album Soldier Boys has just released and I’m a walking advertisement for my next movie. I grit my teeth and think of this sort of stuff as cheap publicity.'

'But I thought you loved being famous.'

'I don't know where you picked up that bright little idea. I enjoy acting and I like to think I'm good at it.' His finger stabbed the air. 'It's just these sort of things I dislike. No one cares anything about you and what it took to get here. When it looked like I was in for the long jump, no doubt some of these lovely people were getting out their knitting needles.'

'What about the group you play in. Is that part of the image, as well?'

'No way.' He roped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to his side. 'I love the music. Don't get me wrong. I like to party with friends. It's celebrity bashes like this I hate. Want me to share a secret?'

She laughed her agreement.

'When I get sick of the publicity, I hide.' He bent toward her and whispered. 'What is it you say in New Zealand when you want to get away from the city?

'Go bush?'

He nodded assent. 'That's what I do. When the taste of star dust begins to sour my mouth, I turn tail and run. I have this nice spread in the mid-west where I keep horses. I bury myself there every chance I get.' He tossed her a beguiling smile as he reached out and removed her glass from unresisting fingers, placing it on a nearby patio table. 'But tonight darlin’, you and I are going to laugh and smile and act as though this is the best thing that has ever happened to us.'

By the time supper was announced, Brianna was beginning to wilt beneath the strain of all the smiling and posturing. Fame, wealth and a million gold and silver sequins shimmered about her. When someone close jostled Jesse he braced an arm above her, holding on to a thick metal tent pole.

'Keep smiling,' he ordered out of the corner of his mouth. 'Or people will think you aren't enjoying yourself.'

Brianna opened her mouth to complain, but Jesse took a canapé from a tray on the food table and popped it into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed and licked the tasty crumbs off her lips. 'I think if I smile one more time my face will crack open.'

The lift of a sardonic eyebrow was answer in plenty. He was about to reply when a high-pitched voice cut across the babble and music, calling his name. For a split second he froze, an expression of distaste marring his piratical features.

'Brianna,' he instructed out of the corner of his mouth. 'I want you to follow me. Don't ask why, please, just do it.' After a quick glance from side to side, he made a grab for her hand and began to forge a path through the crowded marquee. Once outside, Jesse increased his pace until they were almost jogging.

Brianna cast a bewildered glance over her shoulder and back up at Jesse's tightened expression. 'What was that all about?'

He pulled a comic face and glanced behind them. 'I'm just trying to avoid someone I'd rather not spend any more time talking to than it takes to pet a poisonous snake.'

'How come?' Even the darkness couldn't disguise the full stretch of her smile.

'She eats men for breakfast and spits out the balls!' For the first time since they had met, Jesse looked disconcerted. He tugged her into the shelter of the tent wall, using the deep shadows for disguise.

'Another illusion destroyed.' Try as she might, she couldn't envision anyone making a meal of her dragon and she shot him an bemused look. 'How on earth did you ever get caught up in all this?'

'Through Seth.'

'I thought he was your best friend?'

The sound of shrill feminine laughter drifted toward them and he tensed, pressing his finger to his lips. 'He is,' he said in a staged whisper. 'But there are days when I wonder if he is having the last laugh. When I got back to the States after my little extended holiday in South America, I'd had enough of engineering work and I wanted something new. So...' He broke off to duck his head out of cover and see if the coast was clear.

'So?'

He made an off-hand shrug. 'Seth knew of a friend of a friend who wanted people to take stand-in parts for a commercial. After some creative persuasion on his part, I went along for the ride. Surprising, I found I enjoyed the work, and it paid well, so I put together a portfolio and hired an agent to line me up more work. Along with other commercials, the agent arranged a few auditions doing bit parts in movies. One thing led to another.' The consequent fame that he had earned was dismissed with a casual flick of his wrist. 'At first it was great fun. Damned hard work, though,' he insisted. 'But exhilarating.' He checked about carefully to see if the way was clear before taking hold of her upper arm and leading her out into the open and they worked themselves back into the fringe of the nearest group.

Brianna prompted him with an elbow in his ribs. 'Finish the story.'

He grunted and shifted out of elbow's reach. 'Who knows? Right time, right place, I suppose. Amazing as it is, I'd only been playing the scene for about two years when I won a nomination for best supporting actor. Hey presto,' he snapped his fingers. 'I'm a star.'

'Is it always like this?' She nodded her head in the direction of the glittering, posturing crowd.

'Hell, no. I got a lucky break. It usually takes a lot of slog to get as far as I have in just three years.' Jesse crossed his arms and leaned back against a table. 'I haven't even taken formal acting lessons. .. Just what I've picked up on the set and some one-on-one lessons from hired tutors. Making a movie is exhausting work. The cast and crew are mostly up at dawn and at work until they get a good shoot. Take it from me, it's nowhere as glamorous as it's cracked up to be. Filming on location can take a few months, then we complete the takes in a studio set-up. It's consuming work and exacting.'

'If you're so busy making movies, and from all accounts, "Soldier Boys" is a successful group, you can't have much time to spare.'

'I don't, especially since we began this tour. On average, the group tours six months out of every two years, and that's not counting all the shows we put on. The pace has been hectic, but it's the price I have to pay to stay on top. Hopefully we will ease off next year.'

'You're retiring?'

'Hardly. This is what I do, and I'm going to give it my best shot. I've been offered a chance to help direct a low budget movie. Other actors have gone this route, and done well. If all goes well, I can ease up on my acting commitments.' He looked down at her, his thumb tracing the line of her chin. 'I think we've paid our dues. Want to go home?'

'I thought you'd never ask.'

Much to her chagrin, Brianna fell asleep in the car on the return trip and woke when Jesse grazed his lips lightly across her cheek.

'Come on sleepy head.' He shook her gently.

She blinked open her eyes, yawned and stretched, a slow, sleepy smile playing around her mouth.

No trace of tiredness was apparent in Jesse's response to her sinuous movement. As he angled toward her, his knee contacted sharply with the gear shift. He mouthed an oath.

'You were right. Making out in the car is hopeless,' he complained and wrenched open his door. Not one to waste precious time, he was around at Brianna's door in a few impatient strides, opened it and levered her out.

At the door to her cottage, she leaned against him, sleepy and compliant. 'Do I get a good night kiss?'

He splayed his fingers through his hair. The look etched on his lean features became stark, stripping away any pretense. 'I'm going away tomorrow.’

Of a sudden, she didn't feel the least bit flirtatious. 'So soon.'

‘The band's due to play our last gig in Auckland next Wednesday night and it will take us a couple of days to set up. Afterwards, I have to go back Stateside and start work on a new movie that's scheduled for early January, but before that, I'm going to try and get in contact with my birth mother. I have to finish this.' His fingers massaged her scalp with surprising gentleness. 'You've been loved and protected all your life. You know who you are, how much you are appreciated and valued, so its easy for you to take your own heritage for granted. You can't possibly understand what it is like not to have a history. There are a million questions churning around inside my head that need answers. When I've met her, heard her side of the story, I will be able to feel as though my life can have a new beginning.'

'Just give her the chance to get to know you, Jesse.'

He cupped her face, looked deep into her eyes. 'I'm not that optimistic, but believe me when I say that I don't feel so bitter or angry toward her any more.'

She blinked back a film of tears, agony lancing deep. 'I hate this.'

He was trying to make this as easy as possible, but it wasn't working out.

It felt worse than hell.

His eyes swept over her.

She was so beautiful. So very hard to leave.

He stroked her hair. 'This is the longest damned time I've ever spent courting a woman just to get inside her sheets. It's been hell, each and every day and I don't want to let you go. They should pass some law against you.’

'Why, Jesse? You made it perfectly clear from the beginning that you were just passing through. I'm sure you could have found another woman to replace me if you wanted sex.'

'Dammit it Brianna! Haven't you been listening to me? This has nothing to do with sex!' He cursed roundly and pulled her back against him, trapping her within the circle of his strong arms. 'Trust me, babe, I couldn't make it with another woman, even if I wanted to try.. I'm not the man I used to be, something for which I hold you fully responsible. Meeting you has ruined me. You’ve become addictive. I can’t even get through a day any more without hearing your voice.'

'That's quite a confession from the man who vowed that we had only fallen in lust.'

About to give a flip knee-jerk reply, Jesse decided not to. This was no time for joking. 'I will never have enough of you, Brianna. Ever.' His large hand shifted, fleetingly coveting the swell of her breast. He pinioned her with an unguarded blaze of need. 'You're the only woman I've ever wanted so badly that it drives me out of my mind.' His laugh was a low husky sound that set her spirits spiraling upward. 'I hate being away from you, and when we're together, I long to touch and kiss you until you can think of no one but me. I can't eat properly and since I met you I haven't had a decent night's sleep.' When Jesse massaged his eyes with the heel of his hand Brianna was amazed to see how much it shook. 'Without you I'm only half alive.'

'You could try taking two aspirin, go to bed for a week, and hey-presto, you'll be your old self once again.'

'Are you nuts?' His derisive laugh was fierce, directed at himself. 'Do you think that if there was a way to get you out of my system, I wouldn't have tried it by now? At first I was cynic enough to think that we had nothing more going for us than sexual attraction.' He captured a hand, his teeth gently savaging first one finger, then another, until he had triggered a wildfire response in her. Slowly, he pushed her back into the shadow of the covered porch. As he insinuated his trouser clad knee between her thighs, he raised his knee, placing unbearable pressure against her feminine center until they were pressed as close to being joined as was possible, short of intimacy.

Brianna forgot every single thing in the universe, besides his name and the feel of skin on skin. Unconsciously, her fingernails left crescent indents where she gripped him.

He groaned, sensing her capitulation and wanting her more than anything he had ever wanted before. His heart was hammering fit to bust, and the top of his head, among other things, felt like it was going to blow. But at her most vulnerable, he released her, putting Brianna's well being before his own powerful needs. It was a decision that cost him dearly and he knew he'd spend yet another restless night because of it. This self-sacrifice and honor stuff was going to be the death of him, for sure. So far, he had taken enough cold showers to freeze the backside off a Penguin. Clumsily, he adjusted her clothing.

'I have the taste, the feel, the smell of you ringing through my veins.' He kissed her again, moist, open-mouthed kisses that were like a drug to his blood, filling himself with her wild magic. 'I want you, but not here, now. It will take more than a quick grope on the doorstep to satisfy either of us, but there's going to be a time when there won't be a reason to turn back and we will finish this. Will you wait for me?'

'You need to ask?' It was more than she had dared hope.

His eyes were deep golden whirlpools of intensity. 'I need to ask.'

'Can you deliver on this? Or will you forget me the moment you walk away?'

Deep within the dragon stirred. This was his woman. Whatever it took, he would be back.

'It will take more than one lifetime to experience all we can be together. Wait for me.’

Brianna's eyes searched his face, as if to take a mental snapshot of his features. 'For as long as need be, Jesse.'

'The fairy-story ending.'

'In a book, maybe but this is the real McCoy. Falling in love is just the beginning for those two, not the end.' Harriet mimed the shutting of a book. 'Jesse has taken the first, most important step forward. But it is only the first. She is clay. He is steel. The Master will temper Jesse until he is steel refined. Jesse lives and works in a world where truth is seldom talked of and believed even less. Brianna will have a hard time coming to grips with the shallowness and superficial reality of Jesse's world after the security of her own home.'

'You don't sound optimistic of their success.'

Harriet's eyes shone. 'On the contrary. Man plans, and God laughs. They have every chance of taking hold of an exciting future together as they learn to adapt, forgive and love. It won't be easy at times, but I can guarantee they'll have few dull moments.'

There was a discernible drop in background noise the moment Brianna and Jane-Anne Cole entered the up-market coffee shop. Tasteful Christmas decorations leant a festive touch to the perfect designer decor. Brianna tried to ignore the covert stares being sent her way from the other well-dressed patrons as they took a seat.

Jane-Anne clicked her tongue in reproof as she set her tray on a table and made herself comfortable. 'It seems your association with Jesse is no secret amongst this lot.' The languid wave of her hand encompassed the coffee house's clientele.

'How does it feel to have a notorious friend?'

'Hardly that, Brianna. Most of the articles I've read concentrate on Jesse's colorful background. You were surprisingly incidental.'

Brianna's laugh was spontaneous. 'Jane-Anne, you are priceless. Have you watched any of his movies? I can loan you a copy of one, if you'd like?'

A shifty expression passed across her face. 'You needn't bother. My younger brother, Jonathan, has loaned me one of his. He didn't want to, as it happens to be part of his coveted collection.' She shook out her napkin and spread it over what remained of her lap. 'However, when I let slip that I knew about his newly acquired nipple ring, and how mum would love to see it, he was even kind enough to offer the loan of a C.D., as well. Aren't younger brothers so sweet?'

Brianna shook her head with helpless laughter. 'You are horrible. Thank goodness we're on the same side. I'd hate to make an enemy of you.'

'Don't you want to hear my verdict?' Jane-Anne asked her with a crafty little smile.

'Can I stop you?'

Jane-Anne pulled a face. 'I liked it,' she said, considering Brianna's question to be rhetorical. 'It wasn't all blood and guts and glory, as I had originally anticipated. Graeme watched it with me and we thought Jesse's acting was crisp and convincing. The story line was packed with snappy dialogue, humorous one-liners and fast action.'

'You'd make a good film critic.'

'Ah, ha!' Jane-Anne waggled a finger at Brianna. 'Don't try and tell me you weren't impressed?'

'Guilty as charged and I think he makes a superb hero, but then, I'm biased. I have to tell you though, I felt like killing his female co-star when they acted out that love scene.'

'Then it's just as well she kept some of her clothes on, although she's better endowed than you are. Maybe you should think about investing in some silicon.' Blithely disregarding the daggered look being aimed at her, Jane-Anne selected a small cream cake from the tiered, silver server and tonged it onto her plate. 'I shouldn't eat this,' she said as an aside, and grinned sheepishly.' My Obstetrician tells me off if I put on too much weight, but it's so hard as I always seem to feel hungry.' She delicately dusted imaginary crumbs off her fingers and refilled their cups from the white china pot.

Brianna dropped the level of her voice as she brought her head closer to her friend's. 'Do you think I'm making a mistake?'

Jane-Anne gave Brianna a considering look. 'Isn't it a bit late to be asking that? What does your family have to say about Jesse?'

'Their approval was qualified.'

'Upon what?'

'On whether he'd come back.'

'Good point.' Jane-Anne crushed a crumb onto her plate with her index finger. 'Will he?'

Brianna's head snapped up. 'Yes.'

'So, what's the problem?' Jane-Anne saluted her with her tea cup. She patted her tummy fondly. 'Only, don't you dare get married before I have time to get my waist-line back.'

'I think he only wants an affair.'

Jane-Anne nibbled her lower lip. 'And I think you're underestimating the man. I saw the expression in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Believe me, that man wants more than a quick fling. I'd say he was the type who held on to what was theirs.'

'Thank you Dr. Ruth.'

'Don't mention it.' Jane-Anne raised her cup in a toast. 'To the men we love. God help us.'
CHAPTER TWELVE

Jesse stood on the pavement and sized up the tidy wooden villa before him.

Ten to fifteen years old, the walls were painted a dazzling white, with window surrounds and sills picked out in a deep azure blue. The house itself sat square to the curb on a medium-sized, immaculately groomed section. Ornamental shrubbery had been planted in carefully planned formation in scalloped gardens that bordered each side of the cobbled driveway and alongside the narrow path that led up to the blue painted front door. The black painted wooden silhouette of a slumbering cat atop the letter box cheered him. To his way of thinking, it added a homely touch that softened the balanced symmetry of the garden design.

Dear God, he was nervous.

He ran his hands down the seams on his pressed pants, wiping sweat off his sticky palms. The collar of his shirt, buttoned to the neck and encircled by a plain silk tie, felt like a noose. This was worse than he'd imagined it to be and for a fleeting moment, he was tempted to turn tail and forget the whole thing.

He'd leave, go home and write his birth mother a long letter of introduction. Give her some time to get used to the idea of meeting with him.

Five years should do it.

He'd changed enough to know that his mother might not have been perfect in what she had done, but she deserved better than to have an unwanted, grown up son arrive unannounced on her doorstep mid-way through a peaceful Sunday's afternoon. Sweat trickled down his chest, creating wet patches under the armpits on his fresh-from-its-package, two hundred-dollar, button down white business shirt. The amount of money he'd spent on the new shirt and suit should have guaranteed comfort, he thought irritably, and not just that he looked like the glossy ad image of a successful businessman.

He squared his shoulders. It was do or die time. He breathed in and out several times and ran his fingers through his thick black hair. Driven by the need to know, Jesse took the dregs of his remaining courage firmly in hand and swung open the wicker gate. He put a firm booted foot on the path and took one step, then another, forcing himself to move forward. Three shallow steps lifted him onto the covered stoop. He knocked. The noise sounded too loud in his ears. When the door swung open, it felt even worse for him than when he had had to stand before the judge waiting for the jury to deliver their verdict, but not as bad as it had been leaving Brianna behind.

'Can I help you?'

'Diana Morgan?' His throat felt like sawdust and he had to force the name out.

He devoured her face.

Middle-aged, dressed in a casual, loose-fitting top over a matching blue patterned skirt, she looked like a thousand other women her age. Her dark hair was cut fashionably short, shot through at random with strands of silver. And her nose was his nose.

She looked nice. Matronly. But then, what had he been expecting? That she'd be dressed up like an over-painted tart?

The woman shifted uneasily beneath his piercing scrutiny. 'Yes, I am. Well, I was,’ she amended with a brief smile. 'Do I know you?'

Jesse reached out and gripped the lintel opposite him, his fingers clenching the wood hard enough to break the skin. 'No, Ma'am. Do you mind if we step inside?’ Jesse asked with the innate courtesy, instilled from birth into every Southern boy. 'What I need to talk to you about would be best done in privacy.'

'I...' She drew herself back from his extended hand.

'I'm sorry.' He snatched his hand back from the frame in case he had intimidated her by his action.

'Di?'

Jesse shifted his eyes away from his birth mother's tense features, adjusting his vision to accommodate the dimmer light in the hallway behind her. A man, he guessed to be a few years senior to his mother, strode towards them.

'Can I help you here?' he asked, fastening a steely look on Jesse that dissected him, searching for hidden intentions.

She waved her hand toward Jesse. 'This gentleman wants to come inside to talk with me.'

'About what?' Although the question was directed at the woman, the man's eyes never left Jesse's tense face. He placed a protective arm along his wife's shoulder.

'Sir...' Jesse didn't know how to proceed. He longed for a script to follow.

'You're Danny, aren't you?' The woman wrapped her fingers around her throat in an indication of the control she was exerting over her emotions. 'My Danny.'

Jesse ground his teeth in an effort to hold back his own surging emotion. 'Ma'am, my name is Jesse Lawless.'

'Sam,' she said in a barely discernible whisper. 'It's got to be him.'

The man took her shoulders in a firm grip and turned her to face him. 'Please don't get yourself too excited. We don't know that, Diana.'

'I know.' She shook her head furiously and turned to face Jesse. 'You're my son, aren't you? God has heard our prayers and brought you home to us.'

'I.. yes. I think so.'

'This had better not be a joke,' the man warned.

'No joke. I'm looking for my birth mother, Diana Morgan.'

'Oh, Sweet Lord above.' Blindly, she reached out and took hold of her husband's hand, stretching out her free hand toward Jesse. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. 'I have been praying for you to come back to me for over thirty years. Can you ever forgive me?'

Despite the effort Brianna made to take up the reigns of her life, time dragged interminably and she felt as if she was slipping into a sort of hiatus. Christmas gave way to New Year in a haze of Southern Hemisphere summer heat and Brianna went through the motions of normal living, doing all the things she had done before the day she had met Jesse. Yet, all she had to do was to picture him standing before her, or astride his Harley, and her body began to tremble.

Then to ache.

As the days stacked, one upon another, and there was no word from him, she wondered if her heart would ever mend.

To add to her loneliness, within days of Jesse's departure, the Misses Angel also took their leave. Bag and baggage, they made their farewells with as little forewarning about their departure as she had received of their arrival. Home, they had said in response to Brianna's query as to their destination.

It occurred to her, as she stood on her doorstep waving goodbye that for all the time they had spent with her she barely knew anything more about them than she did the day they arrived. Despite that, she had grown to like the Angels and she would miss their company and advice. Her final glimpse of the Angels was of two heads of permed hair, one purplish, one pinkish, bobbing about in the back seat of a white and gold taxicab. Funny though, she thought with a shake of her head. She would have sworn the driver of the cab was the same man she had met at Jesse's apartment. The butler, Patrick.

The one bright spot was the arrival of Jane-Ann and Graeme Cole’s squalling, red-faced infant son. Jacob Peter Cole, eight pound two and one half ounces of flailing arms and legs. The first time Brianna held his warm little body in her arms, he spit up on her best silk shirt. She loved him on sight. He was beautiful.

On St Valentine's Day, a white oblong shaped florist's box, addressed to Brianna, was delivered to the reception desk at "New Beginnings". Upon opening, an event supervised with avid interest by the entire office staff and most of the trainees, eleven long stemmed red rose buds were revealed, each with petals as smooth as velvet and dew touched.

Red for seduction.

No note was attached.

Brianna felt the stirring of expectation for the first time in three months.

When she arrived home later that afternoon, the florist box clutched as protectively in her arms as one might hold a new born babe, a delivery van was parked on the road outside her cottage. With some ceremony, the driver presented her with the twelfth red rose bud, its thornless, long green stem intertwined with that of a single white bud.

White, the driver told her, was the color of True Love.

Again, no note was attached.

The front door bell to her cottage sounded around eight that evening. Brianna was in the foyer and had the door open so fast she almost catapulted herself onto the doorstep in her eagerness.

He was disheveled, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow and patterned silk tie skewed. His hair was tousled, just like he had stepped straight from a warm bed. A dark stubble highlighted the aggressive angle of his jaw and rings of fatigue etched his expressive dragon eyes.

To her, he had never looked more wonderful.

Her knees felt as shaky as her stomach and she leaned against the door frame for support. 'I think I recognize the face.' She considered him for a moment. 'I'm sure I know you.'

He was totting more flowers, carnations this time, soft shades of yellow and cream, with delicate sprays of gypsophila, bound together with a matching yellow ribbon. He said, 'Hi,' and proffered the flowers, watching her face intently.

'What's this?' Brianna took the flowers and rasped the back of her nail across his chin. 'Shouldn't I beware of strangers with designer stubble who come bearing gifts?'

'Don't knock it, woman. I haven't slept properly in days, let alone shaved.' He smiled that slow, slow smile of his as he stepped toward her, swinging the door shut behind him. All at once they were wrapped in each other's arms. Jesse caught her close, lifting her clear off her feet. He scratched his beard along her cheek. 'You feel good. I missed you.' For the first time in three months he felt at peace with himself. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into her neck, inhaling her sweet fragrance. 'Holding you is better than I dreamed.'

'You dreamed of me?’ She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, hold on for dear life, but the flowers kept getting in the way. With a quick flick of her wrist the flowers ended up on the gate-legged table.

The flare in his eyes eclipsed everything as gold eyes and blue met, melded. 'Always, Brianna.' With a good deal of reluctance he loosened his arms enough to search her face. 'Aren't you going to tell me what a louse I am for not ringing or writing?'

'I promised you I'd wait.'

'Ah, Brianna. I'm not good enough for you.' Not able to deny himself longer, he crushed her lips beneath his own, driving a hard bargain as he claimed her mouth.

All that had gone between them previously had been leading up to this moment.

He was wild, desperate and barely in control.

Teeth scraped, tongues collided and she tasted blood, not caring whose.

No conversation, or explanation, or even a confession could be as honest as this. His breath was in her mouth, in her blood, and the kiss consumed them until it became too much, untamed. Swept into a whirlpool of sensation, there was a savagery about their embrace that was magnificent. Both knew that everything that mattered for the rest of their life was in the balance.

Right here. Right now.

When Jesse looked at her, there was no falseness in his eyes. 'I love you, Brianna. When I had to leave you, I felt as if I had left my soul behind.'

'Will you go away again?'

His dragonish smile was crooked at the edges. 'Only if you'll come with me.'

‘Can we talk?’

Jesse pulled an exaggerated face. 'Darlin' girl. After three months away from you, talking is the last thing I have on my mind.'

Brianna punched his arm lightly and tried to keep her face straight. 'Tell me about the meeting you had with your mother before I am forced to hit you with something hard.'

'You'll never make an actress, Brianna,' he told her in a soft, silky whisper. 'Your eyes always give you away.'

'Jesse..,' she began, but he cut off her warning with a kiss.

'At least let me sit down.'

Brianna held her impatience in check long enough for them to get settled in the lounge, before she demanded that Jesse sketch in the details.

'She and her husband are real nice people, and I think you'll like them,' he said in conclusion.

'Could she tell you anything about your birth father?'

'That was a tough part. He's dead.'

'I'm so sorry.'

'They were eighteen when they met. Diana, my mother, was on an exchange scholarship, studying in the States. His name was Daniel Maxwell, a senior at the school she attended. He'd just received his draft notice. Making me was unplanned and unanticipated. By the time she knew, he had left for boot camp. She didn't know how to tell her family, and she didn't even know his. Remember, this was back in the sixties, and an attitude toward unmarried mother’s was pretty rough. When she learned that Daniel had been killed in his first month in 'Nam, she lost it completely. The only option she thought she had was to give me up for adoption.'

'Don't hate her, Jesse.'

'I don't any more.' He drew a line with his finger along the ridge of her chin. 'Diana did what she thought best for me, and contrary to the lies my adoptive father told me, she wasn't a drug addict. She was just a scared kid, all alone in a strange place. It turned out that when she got home and her parents learned of the truth, they were supportive and loving and they encouraged Diana to try and trace me. Unfortunately, the way the law stood then, she had to wait until I was eighteen to get my details, only to find that my adoptive parents had ordered my papers be flagged with a veto prohibiting contact. Her husband knew about me, and he was pretty welcoming.'

'What will you do now?'

'Take it one day at a time. I've inherited a new family, including a younger half-sister and a set of grandparents. Meeting them has helped me to understand that loving is not taking. It's giving.' He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose, gathering her hands and holding them between their bodies. 'I'm not perfect, Brianna. I can't promise you that I'll get everything right, or be everything you want. There are things we need to work out.'

'I know who you are, Jesse and I love you.'

'It's a big call, asking you to leave your family and all, but I don't think I can go on without you.'

'Is that all you're asking?'

'Hell no.' In a few rapid paces, he was across the room, returning with the forgotten bunch of flowers she had discarded clasped tight in his fist. These he flourished with an elaborate gesture. 'Pay close attention babe, because I want to get this exactly right.' He angled towards her and touched her taut stomach. 'I don't want any of our children growing up to think that their old man ever lacked romance.' He positioned himself squarely in front of her. 'Brianna...' he started, dramatically going down onto bent knee. Jesse cleared his throat and fought the knot in his tie, beginning anew. 'Brianna Emily Alexander,' he said in a voice made husky by emotion. It sounded like paper tearing. He searched her face and what he found in her eyes gave him the courage to continue. 'Will you marry me?'

She said nothing.

'Well?' he demanded with a hint of underlying tension. He inched awkwardly forward on his knees and gave her hands a sharp jiggle. 'Brianna!'

'I like you on your knees.'

He released a soft laugh of relief. 'I've been on my knees since I met you.'

'It will have to be forever after.'

'I'm still not sure I'll make good husband material, but I won't leave you.' Jesse regained his footing. 'Here, take this,' he commanded and he handed her a small unwrapped box he had fished from his pants pocket.

Brianna's hand convulsed around the box. 'You always seem to be giving me gifts.' Her eyes met his with a look of appeal. 'I wish I had something to give you in return.'

'Sweet heaven, Brianna. You gave your love to me, and you gave me the courage to face tomorrow. What more could I ask for?'

Time seemed to stand still.

'Open the box, Brianna.'

As though her hands were all fingers and thumbs, she prized up the lid and gazed mutely at the ring, a narrow silver band intricately crafted and set with a row of four unusual blue stones interspersed with diamonds of equal size. 'It's beautiful.'

'They're turquoise,' he told her as he took the ring out of the box and fitted it to her left-hand ring finger. 'The color reminded me of your eyes.' He cleared his throat and lifted her hand to his lips. 'If you want something fancier, just say the word and I'll buy it for you.'

'No--,' she began but the lump in her throat made it hard to speak. 'No, you won't need to do that. It's perfect.'

A slow smile reached out to envelope her. 'I love you, Brianna. You are my heart and soul.' He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and the smile he gave her was dazzling. 'Forever.'

It was his vow.

'As you are mine. Forever.'

It was her promise.

'Brianna, darlin'.' His voice was wistful - half-expectant and laced with cunning. He slid his hands down to grip her backside, pulling her closer so that she could feel his growing need. 'If you have any pity for me, let's go to bed now.'

The Dragon's Woman tossed back her head and uttered a throaty laugh.

She leaned into him, delighting in the feel of his strength. 'I think my parents would want us to have a Church wedding.'

He rested his forehead against hers. 'How long will that take? I'm in danger of busting a gut.'

'It needn't be large,' she placated. 'But there's the guest list to decide on and the reception to plan.'

His arms tightened around her and he nuzzled his face into her neck, tasting her skin. She flooded his senses, hot and compelling. 'I am quite prepared to make love to you standing on my head if I have to. Just tell me how long.'

'Six weeks?'

'Done!' The dragon sealed their bargain with a kiss before his woman could change her mind.

'Oh, I do so love happy endings.'

Emmaline sniffled back her tears. 'Let's give them a special gift.'

'How about a family,' suggested Patrick.

Harriet's head bobbed madly. 'Brilliant suggestion.'

They laughed long and loud.

'How many?'

Emmaline considered. 'Four, do you think?'

'Four?' Harriet tapped her chin.

'Six?' ventured Patrick.

A lovely round number.' Emmaline held out her hand and offered Harriet and Patrick one of the fluted, lead-crystal glasses that had appeared from out of nowhere. She conjured another for herself. 'Let's drink to them.'

The rim of their glasses clinked.

'To Unfailing Love.'

They raised their glasses and drank the toast.

A wistful expression crossed Emmaline's face. 'Earth is a nice place to visit, but---'

'Not as nice as heaven. Only...Emmy. Do you think that next time we have an assignment it will be time for a change?'

Seasoned campaigner that she was, Emmaline could smell a ruse at fifty paces. 'No.'

'You don't even know what we were going to suggest.'

Emmaline pinioned Harriet and Patrick with eyes of steely blue. 'I can read you both like an open book. We are not going to get dressed up like a dog's dinner.'

'I wasn't suggesting we do. Just that we assume a younger image next time,' Patrick suggested eagerly. 'I always wanted to try on a little Mary Quant number.'

'Patrick, behave, or I'll have to send in a bad report about you.'

Harriet pouted. 'Emmaline, you are such a spoil-sport.'

'True, but where would you be without me? Come on you two.' She threaded her arm along both their shoulders, drawing them close. 'Let's go find someone else to help. Remind me again about Seth Jackson.'