Hart and Soul

Lori Foster

One

Hart Winston tried to prepare himself, but with every breath his anxiety level ramped up until he felt sweat on the back of his neck.

What did she want? In his gut, he knew it had to be something important for her to be so persistent in seeking him out. Lisa Vogle wasn’t a woman who chased any man. For sure she wouldn’t chase him.

He had his suspicions about the message she had to give, and mixed emotions kept him tightly coiled with the possible consequences.

He wasn’t a coward, damn it! He would face up to his responsibilities as all the Winston men did.

Yet, he continued to sit in his car in the blistering parking lot in front of Lisa’s apartment building, trying in vain to sort through his feelings, not only about Lisa but also about the life ahead. To his twin, Dex, he had denied caring about Lisa. He’d even denied being attracted to her. He’d called her “plain” when that adjective could never be applied to a woman with her vitality, her intelligence, and her grace. No, she didn’t look like most of the women he dated. She didn’t act like them either.

And that, in part, was what unsettled him.

Enough. Turning off the car, Hart braced himself for what lay ahead and stepped onto the burning blacktop. Waves of suffocating heat wafted up to amplify his already churning emotions.

He’d make it work, he told himself. So Lisa wasn’t like most women he knew. In many ways, she was better.

It didn’t matter that he’d considered her a one-night stand, a moment of weakness.

He couldn’t lie to himself; he’d thought of her often even before she began tracking him down. He enjoyed her company. He’d really enjoyed sex with her.

It’d be fine.

Might as well get on with it. Dexter expected a full report, as did his cousin Joe. Hell, if his suspicions were correct, the whole damn family would know his private business in no time at all.

Staring through mirrored sunglasses, hands on his hips, Hart surveyed Lisa’s building. From the parking lot he could see the side of the balcony where she liked to sit in the evening, drinking hot tea. Not a beer, never that. Not even a cola. She held those dainty teacups with all the grace of a queen.

He smiled at the image, caught himself, and scowled again.

Other than a light that shone from behind closed curtains, her place looked empty. Hell, it was only eight o’clock, but Lisa was the “early to bed, early to rise” sort. She was also a dentist, of all things. Conservative, uptight, and buttoned down, very proper—in a hundred different ways, their personalities and lifestyles would clash.

But he’d slept with her in a moment of lust-inspired insanity, a moment that had plagued his thoughts ever since. And now she’d tracked him down for a reason, so he had to address the repercussions.

Damn.

Before he could change his mind, Hart strode up the front walk and into the building. Air-conditioning chilled his skin as he bounded up the stairs and to her door, where an artificial summery wreath hung. It was homey, domestic—like Lisa.

Hart cursed under his breath and knocked.

He knew she had to be home, but she didn’t answer the door. Scowling, determined to get the uncomfortable confrontation over with, he knocked again, harder this time.

The door jerked open, but only as far as a chain allowed. Without showing herself, Lisa said, “Go away, Hart Winston, and stay away.”

Out of sheer instinct, Hart thought to poke his foot in the space before she could close the door.

She smashed his foot hard, and kept on smashing, hoping, no doubt, to encourage him to remove the obstacle.

He put his shoulder into the door. “You’re breaking my foot, woman.”

“Remove it if you don’t want to lose it.”

He grinned at the surprise sarcasm. She always did that to him, amusing him at the oddest moments, drawing him in . . . turning him on. Again, he shook off the unfamiliar feelings. “We need to talk.”

“I have nothing whatsoever to say to you.”

Baloney. He added some pressure against the door to relieve his poor foot. “Then why the hell did you track me down?” His voice rose in annoyance. “You called my brother several times. You called my cousin—”

“Brother? I didn’t even know you had a brother. Now get lost.”

Hart drew a breath and tried to sort his way through her odd behavior. She was usually so proper; she wouldn’t have told an intruder to get lost. And he was not an intruder. “Come on, Lisa, listen to me. I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you—”

“No big deal. It doesn’t matter, not anymore. Leave with a clear conscience.”

Hart’s blood ran cold. What had she done? Had he taken so long to contact her that she’d given up on him? Damn. “What does that mean, Lisa?”

She stopped pressing on the door, but still didn’t show herself. More composed and with less anger, she said, “It means just what I said: it doesn’t matter. I was going to tell you something, but . . . I’ve changed my mind. So just . . . go away. Forget I ever called.”

His stomach knotted. “Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“Try.”

So she thought to cut him out? Hart sought his own measure of control. “I was out of town. I can explain where and why if you let me in. But the point is that I couldn’t get in touch. The messages you left for me went to my twin, Dexter. He was sort of filling in for me so that no one would know where I was, and—”

Her face appeared between the door frame and the door. “You seriously have a twin?”

Hart stared. “What the hell happened to you?” He studied her, but even beyond the massive curlers in her brown hair, and the fact that she had her glasses off, she looked . . . funny. Sort of unbalanced, somehow.

“Since when do you have a twin?”

“Since . . . birth?” He frowned. “What did you do to yourself? Is something wrong?”

Her brown eyes rolled. “Move your foot and I’ll let you in, but only for five minutes.”

“You promise?” If he pulled his foot out and she locked the door, he’d lean on the bell until she caved.

Lisa narrowed her eyes, which only made her look funnier. “Move. Your. Foot.”

Hart moved it. The door clicked shut, he heard the rattle of the chain, and she opened the door again.

“Come in before my neighbors start to complain.” She stood to the side, holding the door for him.

She wore a long robe, and under it Hart saw a peek of pink lace on her bra.

Lisa wore pink lace?

She noticed the direction of his attention and clutched the lapels of the robe together. “Now,” she said. “I had wanted to talk to you, but you were such an ass, and so much time has passed, that I’ve changed my mind.”

Hart gestured at her face. “Something’s not right.”

She rolled her eyes again. “I have makeup on one eye, so I’m lopsided.” Her frown pinched with accusation. “You interrupted me.”

Yeah, that was it. On her right eye she had shadow and liner and mascara. The other eye looked small and mean in comparison. His brain scrambled from that to the idea of her wearing makeup.

From what he recalled, Lisa went without cosmetics, and it suited her. With her dark eyes and lashes, her glossy light brown hair, she didn’t really need much makeup.

So why had he considered her so average? Shaking that off, Hart went over to the couch and dropped down to sit. “Interrupted you from what?”

Both eyes widened. “Don’t you dare get comfortable, Hart Winston. This conversation is over, and you have to go.” She fluttered over him. “Get up.”

She forgot to hold those lapels together. Her generous breasts overflowed the sexy lace cups of her bra. Hart sprawled back, his arms spread out, his jeans-covered legs relaxed. “That’s some sexy-looking underwear for you, isn’t it?”

She didn’t blush. But she did look ready to flay him alive. She tightened the sash on her robe, inadvertently emphasizing the narrowness of her waist and the lushness of those full breasts. “Get out, Hart.”

“Not yet. You have something to tell me.”

“Wrong. I had something to tell you—but not anymore.”

“I want you to tell me, anyway.”

“Tough. You should have shown up when I first called.”

Unable to keep his brain on task, Hart found himself studying her body. He needed to know what she had to tell him, even if he had to insist, but he just couldn’t stay focused. “I never figured you for sexy lingerie.”

Well, hell. Hart watched her face and grinned to himself. Not exactly to the point, but all the same, he waited for her reply.

Her back went straight and her mouth pinched. “I have always worn feminine underwear.”

Cocking a brow, Hart said, “Really? Because I don’t remember yo u—”

“You turned out the lights, goofus. How could you have seen anything?”

Goofus? Well, that was rude. He sat forward with a frown. “I turned out the lights for you.” She was shy, right? Timid and modest. He’d been trying for consideration, hoping to put her at ease.

“For me?” Lisa laughed—a sound devoid of real humor—and crossed her arms under her breasts in a belligerent stance. “I wanted the lights on, bud. I wanted to see you. I wanted to see everything.”

Hart felt his dick twitch at that telling admission.

Lisa shrugged. “But hey, when you turned them out, I didn’t say anything because I figured you had insecurity issues about your body or something. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

He was off the couch before he realized his own intent. “You’re kidding, right? I do not suffer from insecurity of any kind.”

She looked at a fingernail. “Can’t prove it by me.”

Losing all semblance of civility, Hart pointed at her and said, “You came twice, lady.”

She shrugged. Shrugged. Hart couldn’t believe her insouciance.

“Yeah, so? What’s your point?”

Seeing red, he moved closer to loom over her. At five-nine, she was tall, but he stood a good five inches over her. “You screamed, Lisa. Hell, you damn near deafened me. And you bit my shoulder.”

“It was dark,” she said. “How could I know what I was biting?”

His eyes rounded. “You enjoyed yourself.”

Another shrug. “I plan to enjoy myself tonight too.” Those lopsided eyes glared at him. “If you’ll just go away, so I can finish getting ready . . .”

Oh, hell. He felt flattened. Laid low. Taken off guard.

She had a date? And she planned to get laid?

At his expression of utter chagrin, she shook her head. “Come on, Skippy. Pack it up and get on out of here, will you? I have things to do.”

Skippy? Hart held his ground. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

That must’ve been the proverbial last straw, because she exploded. “Well, excuse me if I figured sex entitled me to the courtesy of a return phone call when I let you know—repeatedly—that it was important. But oh, no, not the lady-killer Hart Winston. He can’t be bothered with something as mundane as a phone call from a one-night stand he hoped to never set eyes on again!”

Ah. He’d hurt her feelings, and because of that, he felt like a cad. He reached for her, saying gently, “I’m here now.”

With a loud “Ha!” she shoved him away. “You insufferable ass, is that supposed to matter to me? I want nothing more to do with you.”

Well, that didn’t sound promising. Solemn now, Hart sighed. “That might be tough, don’t you think?”

“What?”

“Having nothing to do with me.” If his suspicions were correct, they were tied together for life.

She shook her head, rattling those big rollers loose. “It will be incredibly easy if you’ll just go away.”

Not likely. “Tell me why you called me.” Once she did, they could sort through things. After an abject apology, she’d forgive him. He hoped.

“Fine.” Lisa drew a shuddering breath, let it out slowly. “Misplaced concern. Nothing more. That’s why I called.” Her smile pinched. “Now leave.”

Instead, Hart went back to the couch and sat down again. He could wait her out. If she wanted to be rid of him, she’d have to ’fess up first. This was too important for him to let either of them avoid it.

“Hart,” she warned.

“So you have a date?”

She stared at him, all but vibrating with irritation, before she turned on her heel and stomped away. Hart waited, but she didn’t return, so he went looking for her.

As he went from the living room through the kitchen and dining room to the hallway, he took inventory. Her pristine apartment looked the same: warm, welcoming, very organized, like the lady herself. It was cozy, with little touches like knickknacks, matching curtains and pillows, potpourri, and healthy plants.

He liked it. It wasn’t at all like his chrome, glass, and leather furnishings, and it felt more comfortable.

Peering into her bedroom, he saw the made bed, the uncluttered dresser and chest, the closed curtains.

He remembered that bed only too well. She’d been something else, something unfamiliar. Special. Unsettling.

He also remembered slipping out of the room early the next morning.

Yeah, he was an ass. But he was a determined ass who needed answers to questions. He found Lisa in the bathroom, the door ajar as she finished her makeup, using a magnifying mirror in place of her glasses.

Leaning on the door frame, Hart watched her slick lip gloss on her soft mouth, then smooth it with her baby finger. With that done, she started removing the curlers.

It was uniquely intimate, watching Lisa’s feminine routine. Course, he hadn’t known Lisa had a feminine routine. He’d seen her only in professional clothes or a white lab coat, her hair twisted up, her face clean of makeup.

On Lisa, the austere look had been sexy enough. But this was pure seduction.

Interesting.

The more Hart watched her, the more he thought about the future, maybe with Lisa, and how it wouldn’t really be bad at all. In fact . . .

He cleared his throat. “I’m not going anywhere until we talk.”

“Suit yourself. I trust you not to steal anything after I leave.” Then her eyes—now matching—narrowed in his direction. “At least, you better not.”

Would she keep stabbing him with insults the entire night? Probably. And why not? He had it coming.

Hart’s curiosity gnawed on him. “So who’s the lucky guy tonight?”

“You wouldn’t know him.” She dabbed on perfume, touching it to her throat, her wrists, and her cleavage.

Hart tried to picture it: Lisa with another man; her burning up the sheets . . . with the damn lights on; her biting someone else.

He didn’t like it.

Annoyed as much at himself as at her, Hart crossed his arms. “You’re saying he doesn’t run in my circle, huh?”

“Hardly.” Her expression turned smug. “He’s an oral surgeon.”

Lifting a brow, Hart said, “Sounds . . . romantic.” Not. Why the hell did she want to get sweaty with some stuffed-shirt medical type? Lisa was prim, no two ways about that. But she was also open and caring. “You two have a thing?”

“This is our first date.”

Both brows lifted. “And you plan to jump his bones? Lisa, Lisa. I thought you were more discreet than that.”

“You also thought I wanted the lights off.”

Hart winced. She was in rare form tonight, sharper tongued than he recalled.

Maybe if he explained things, she’d soften a little toward him instead of beating him down with her mockery. “I’m sorry, Lisa. I really am. I couldn’t get in touch sooner because I was fighting.”

She paused in the middle of brushing out her hair. Her big brown eyes met his in the mirror. “Fighting? With whom? What did you do now, Hart Winston?”

“No, it’s a sport. The SBC. Supreme Battle Challenge. Have you heard of it?”

She continued to frown at him for a few seconds, and then seemed to accept his explanation. “Ah, I guess that makes sense.” She went back to her hair. “It’s like that fake wrestling stuff the youths enjoy?”

Annoyance crept up his neck. “No, not like that at all.” Her brown, usually straight hair now fluffed out in sexy waves. His fingers twitched with the urge to touch it, to stroke it.

He remembered tangling his fingers in her hair while he drove into her, and then, later, feeling it drifting over his shoulders, his chest.

He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “There’s nothing fake about it, believe me. It’s a serious sport, and it’s growing fast in popularity.”

“If you say so.”

Why it was so important for her to understand, Hart didn’t know, but he forged on. “I’d been training for a while in mixed martial arts, and I decided to go professional. You called while I was away at a camp.”

“Oh, just like Boy Scouts.”

She was out for blood tonight, and even knowing that, Hart took it on the chin. “No, smart-ass.” He jerked his T-shirt up to his chin. “Do these look like the abs of a Boy Scout?”

Lisa stared. She reached for her glasses on the side of the sink, slipped them on, and stared some more. Her look was so intense, Hart could practically feel her gaze on his stomach, up to his pecs, then back down again . . . way low, lower than he had exposed, damn it.

Her lips parted a little. She took two quick breaths.

Stoked by that intimate gaze, he suggested, “Your turn.”

She laughed. Then she cleared her throat and slanted her gaze at his face. “You missed your turn on that one, Skippy.”

“What the hell is with this Skippy business?” Such a stupid nickname. But damn it . . . didn’t most nicknames start in some basis of fact?

“You know,” Lisa said, interrupting his musing, “I find it very odd that you’d flaunt your body now, but felt so shy and insecure when we had sex that you had to hide from me.”

Heat flooded his face. “I did not hide.”

“You turned out the light.”

“Damn it, woman!” She slandered his masculinity to suggest such a thing. “Accuse me of insecurity again, and I’ll strip right here, right now.”

Blinking, she turned to face him—and appeared to consider taking him up on that challenge. Then she picked up her watch and put it on. “Tempting, but sorry, no time. I’m going to be late as it is.”

She’d been tempted? Hart followed her into the bedroom.

She stopped and turned to face him.

He held his ground.

Lisa pointed toward the door. “Leave.”

“Not until you tell me why you called.”

Fury brought a becoming blush to her cheeks. She looked at her watch again, crossed her arms, and said, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Damn, that possibility really bothered him. Time to get it out in the open. Maybe if he said it first, she’d discuss it with him.

Trying for gentle understanding, Hart cupped her shoulders in his hands. “Lisa . . . are you pregnant?”

Her jaw loosened. “What?”

Undeterred, Hart squeezed her shoulders. “Are we having a baby? Because if we are—”

“Are you insane?” Lisa jerked free, went to the other side of the bed—far away from him—and laughed. Hard. “Do I look like an idiot to you?”

That had to be a trick question. “No.” Confusion swamped him. “Look, I know we used condoms, but they aren’t foolproof, so—”

“No, they aren’t, which is why I’m on the pill.” Aghast, her back ramrod straight, she glared at him. “For your information, I would never, ever, take a chance on unplanned pregnancy, but most especially not with you.”

He was relieved, he really was, but still . . . Hart propped his hands on his hips. “Why not with me?”

“Oh, my God, Hart!” Her made-up eyes looked enormous behind her glasses. “Are you serious?”

Was he? Yes, damn it. Hart gave a firm nod, but said, “I think so.”

“You’re not father material.”

Now that hurt. “Who says?”

“Every woman you’ve ditched after a quick lay?”

Ha! He had her on that one. “It wasn’t quick, now was it, Lisa? We spent hours in that bed.” He pointed to the bed between them, and stressed again, “Hours.”

More color flooded her face, and her teeth gnashed. “In terms of minutes, no, it wasn’t all that fast. In terms of life, it was no more than an afterthought for you.”

Hart struggled to assimilate all that she said with the way that she said it. He believed her that he wasn’t going to be a dad. Yay. What a relief!

Right?

To hell with that. He didn’t like thinking about it, so he went back to more familiar ground. “You enjoyed yourself, so stop acting like you didn’t.”

“I won’t deny it.” Her shoulders lifted, her robe slipped, and he again saw that tempting pink lace. “You were fantastic. Spectacular, even.”

That was more like it. Hart nodded with satisfaction—and glanced again at that comfy bed right there between them.

“But I am not,” Lisa said, regaining his attention, “and have never been, pregnant.”

Shit. Back to square one. “Fine. Not preggers. Got it. So if there’s not a little Winston bun in the oven, what was so hellfire important that you had to hunt me down, call a dozen times, and pester my relatives?”

Fury narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have to worry that it’ll ever happen again. You have my word.”

Holding up his hands, Hart apologized. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I just meant that you made it, whatever it is, sound so important that I sort of resigned myself to big news from you, and no w—”

Her snort of irony stopped his apology.

He sighed. “Look, Lisa, you have something to tell me that’s important enough for you to attempt to track me down, despite my lack of availability at the time. I’m here now, so if you would please just tell me, I’d appreciate it.”

Judging his sincerity, she chewed it over, and finally said, “If I tell you, then you’ll go away?”

“Yes.”

“And you won’t argue about it?”

Probably not. He worked his jaw, and nodded.

“And I’ll never have to see you again?”

Damn it, why did she have to keep pushing him? “Maybe.” But he doubted it. By the minute he found her more fascinating than ever, and all the reasons why he’d wanted her in the first place were suddenly pounding through him again.

Accepting his lackluster response, Lisa moved to the foot of the bed and sat down. She drew a deep breath, looked at Hart, and said, “Someone wants to hurt you. Bad.”

“What?”

“I overheard two men talking in a bar. There can’t be too many Hart Winstons walking around, so it had to be you, right? I didn’t completely understand at first, but now that you say you’re fighting, it makes more sense. It was something about ensuring you wouldn’t win. They have a conspiracy against you, and somehow a woman is involved, I think as a distraction or to get you to the right place where these other men can jump you, and effectively take you out of the running.”

Hart stared at her. Okay, he hadn’t seen that one coming. “Are you serious?”

She nodded. “There. I’ve done my duty and warned you, so you can leave.” She stood again and edged around him to leave the room. Without looking at him, she added, “And Hart? Don’t let the doorknob catch you in the butt on the way out.”

Two

Of course she didn’t get far before Hart caught her arm and whirled her right back around. He took her off guard, and she fell into him.

He didn’t set her away.

And blast the man, he felt delicious. Rock-hard and solid and so hot . . . Regaining her wits, Lisa shoved away from him.

“Keep your mitts to yourself, buster.”

“Don’t you mean Skippy?”

Oh, she wanted to sock his smug, all-too-handsome face. But she didn’t want him to see that much emotion from her. If she couldn’t convince herself not to care, she could at least convince him that she didn’t. “Leave. Now.”

“You have to be kidding.”

He took the seat she’d vacated at the foot of her bed—and damn him, he looked good there. “I’m serious as a heart attack.”

Lounging back on his elbows, he studied her. “At least give me details.”

Impossible to do with her heart in her throat and her pulse racing. Even breathing seemed difficult, when she really wanted to pant. And fan herself.

Why did he have to be so scrumptious? Not just his body, but his carefree, fun attitude, his openness, his sense of humor, and confidence? He was smart and talented, funny and sexy. All wrapped together, Hart Winston made one incredibly appealing package.

But she couldn’t forget that he saw her as only a one-night stand.

Jerk. She had to get him off her bed and out of her apartment. ASAP. “I’ll make you a deal. Leave now, and I’ll tell you all about it—later.”

“What if this evil plot goes down before you tell me? Hell, woman, I could be killed.”

“I don’t think they wanted to kill you. They said something about a ball bat and doing stuff just dire enough to take you out of commission.”

When she finished, Hart looked half sick.

He dropped flat to the bed and put an arm over his eyes. “Christ, I can handle myself, Lisa; I hope you know that. In a straight-up fight, no problem. But if some prick is planning to jump me from behind or something . . .” He moved the arm from his face and caught her staring at his lap. He grinned. “Come on, Lisa. Do you really want that on your conscience?”

She sniffed, a believable sound of indifference. “You’re nothing to me, Hart. A quickie fling, no more. I did my duty and warned you, and now it’s up to you.”

“But you do have more details, right? Information that’ll make it easier for me to defend myself?”

“You’re insufferable.”

Gently, he said, “I know.”

“And obnoxious.”

He nodded as he slowly got off the bed and came toward her.

Knowing her voice went too high, she said, “You certainly don’t deserve any special consideration from me.”

“Of course not.” He stopped in front of her, let his knuckles brush her cheek, the side of her neck, as he smoothed her hair over her shoulder. “But you’re a really kind, caring woman with an enormous heart.”

It was a curse. “I really am,” she agreed without modesty.

He took her hands in his, then bent his knees so he could look into her eyes with masculine appeal. His rough thumbs coasted over the backs of her fingers again and again in a seducing caress. “I don’t deserve anything from you, Lisa; I know that. But this is important, and I’m asking as nice as I can—”

Reality kicked in and, again, Lisa jerked free. “Ohhhh . . .” She moved away from him to stand behind her rocking chair. “Just stow the sex appeal, Skippy. I’m not buying into it, not ever again.”

He studied her, came to some conclusion, and propped his hands on his hips. “All right. But as pissed off as you might be with me—”

“I’m not,” she denied with disdain. “I don’t care at all either way, period.”

“—we both know that you don’t want to see me pulverized through some sneak attack.” He leveled a look on her. “Right?”

Her heart thumped. How could he understand her so well when he’d spent little enough time trying to know her? She glanced at her watch, and gave in. “Fine. We can talk. Later. But for now, use extra care. Don’t take any chances, and if you can keep it zipped for once in your life, try to avoid any women you don’t know particularly well.”

His blue-eyed gaze heated as he looked her over with suggestive intent. “I think I can manage that, all things considered.”

What did that mean? No, she didn’t want to know. She fashioned a stern expression and said, “Good-bye, Hart.”

He smiled. “All right, I’ll go. But Lisa? Don’t do anything that I would do, okay?”

It took her a second to realize what he’d said, and then she heard the front door open and close. To be certain, Lisa went to the door and locked it, then dropped back against it with a heart-felt sigh.

Hart Winston. Man, oh man, but he packed a wallop to her emotions and her libido.

Calling him “Skippy” was her way of keeping his penchant for running off at the forefront of her mind. Hart was a man who took his pleasure, then took off before emotions could get involved. If she poked fun at him, then he couldn’t know how foolish she’d felt after sleeping with him. Foolish because . . . well, it had felt like something very special to her. Different. More powerful than casual sex.

She was a twenty-seven-year-old independent woman with experience, a career, and plenty of intelligence. She should have known better than to build expectations around a casual night of spectacular, mind-blowing sex, or to think, even for a second, that the infamous Hart Winston had felt the same magnitude of sensation that she had.

But still, she’d been surprised that he skipped out the next morning without a word.

Fool, fool, fool!

Turning to look in the foyer mirror, Lisa made a face at herself. After that tumultuous, surprise visit, the last thing she felt like doing was suffering the company of another man, a man she was seeing only to try to get out of her funk.

A long, hot bath and a good book seemed more appealing, but she’d promised herself, so she stuck to her guns, put on her nice dress and heels, and went out to her car.

Starting the night was no fun at all, not when she already knew exactly how it would end—thanks to Hart Winston.

Having moved his car to the other side of the lot, Hart watched from his inconspicuous vantage point as Lisa hustled out in sky-high heels and a body-hugging dress.

He felt like a stalker. Like a pathetic kid with a bad crush.

But Lord have mercy, Lisa looked good. Better than good.

He’d felt that body, every inch of her, and as sweet as that had been, touch didn’t quite do justice to the visual. The woman had done a fine job of hiding a killer body. Course, she’d done a good job of hiding that smart mouth, too, and all that stinging sarcasm.

He couldn’t help but grin. Truth be told, he’d enjoyed sparring with her. He’d even enjoyed her insults.

He’d known Lisa Vogle for damn near a year, had talked with her numerous times, and had always enjoyed her company. Not once had she ever unleashed her displeasure on him. In fact, she’d always been beyond proper.

When he thought of Lisa, it was intelligence, kindness, and manners that came to mind. Well, and amazing sex too. He would never forget the sex.

But even before they’d slept together, there’d been something about her, something that taunted and teased him to the point that, before he’d realized his own intent, he’d asked her out on a spontaneous date.

Even more surprising, she’d accepted. In too many ways to count, he didn’t seem like her type, and vice versa. But he’d felt the sexual chemistry between them as they rode in his car to a restaurant. Hell, they’d even run into his cousin Joe and his wife, Luna. Lisa had not been dressed then as she was now.

No, that night Lisa had worn a black suit and a simple white blouse with comfortable pumps. Her hair was still in that twisted, stately bun on the back of her head, and not a single speck of makeup had shown on her face.

And somehow, when he’d gotten to her door, all that prim and proper staging had blown his mind. Her naked mouth drew him; he’d meant only to kiss her good night, but she’d kissed him back, and his hands had somehow tumbled her hair, and the next thing he knew, they were in her apartment going at it hot and heavy and . . .

He felt edgy again, just thinking about it.

It was pretty freaking incredible.

Too incredible. Hart hated to admit it, because it made him sound like a wuss, but Lisa Vogle had intimidated him.

Never before had he been on a date with a smart woman who conversed easily, laughed honestly, greeted his cousin with impeccable manners, and then scorched him in bed.

That kind of perfection was enough to spook any die-hard bachelor. Right?

And now, adding her sharp wit and ease at banter, well . . . could the woman be more flawless?

He watched as Lisa drove out of the parking lot without ever once noticing him. So Romeo wasn’t picking her up? What a chump.

Knowing what she had planned, Hart stewed. His thoughts were in turmoil. Was Lisa really that sexual by nature, or had she exaggerated to irk him—not that she could have guessed he’d be irked, considering how he’d cut out on her.

Damn it. He felt mired in guilt. She’d been trying to warn him, and he’d put off contacting her to finish his training camp. The camp was important, but he could have eked out some time to call her.

He’d make it up to her, Hart decided. At the same time he denied that his motives were anything but altruistic, never mind the jealousy gnawing on him.

He’d never been jealous, so he gave himself some leeway in dealing with the unfamiliar sting.

Let her have her fun tonight, sick as it made him feel. Tomorrow he’d give her the sincere apology she deserved, and they could start over from scratch.

This time, he’d do things right, and Lisa Vogle wouldn’t know what hit her.

At barely eleven P.M., Lisa dragged in her front door with relief. What a bust, as far as dates went. And it was all her fault.

She kicked off the arch-murdering heels and carried them into her bedroom. Pausing at the entrance to the room, she remembered Hart sitting on her bed, at his leisure, teasing and flirting.

Her shoes hit the closet wall with a thump.

Of all the men out there, why did he have to be the one who got her motor running?

She could curse him and call him unkind names, but it wouldn’t be truthful. Hart was a great guy, friendly to everyone, courteous, talented.

As an artist, he showed great sensitivity.

As a lover, his instincts were remarkable.

He enjoyed being a bachelor, and she couldn’t very well fault him for that. After all, he’d been honest and up-front about everything. She knew before she slept with him that it would go nowhere.

And she’d thought that would be enough.

She almost ripped her dress in her haste to remove it. The long, hot shower did little to ease her tension. And when she tried to sleep, visions of Hart Winston’s sexy abs played in her mind.

Lordy, when he’d lifted his shirt to flaunt that too-perfect body, she’d wanted only to touch him. But therein lay additional disaster to her heart, so she’d laughed it off instead.

She wasn’t laughing early the next morning when she woke before sunrise.

Needing the exertion, she stuck her hair in a ponytail, dressed in a sports bra, T-shirt, running shorts, and her favorite sneakers. Hitting the pavement always served as a good way to relax her. And this early, she wouldn’t run into many people.

More than an hour later, damp with sweat and breathing hard, Lisa returned to her apartment—to find Hart sitting on the front steps with a box of donuts and two carryout cups of coffee.

No. Blast the man, she’d just shaken off the coiling need, and then, with only one look at him, everything inside her tightened again.

Though mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes, she felt certain that he saw her. The corners of his mouth tipped up in that too-sexy way of his, and a new alertness showed in the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head.

Slowly sitting up from his sprawled position on the steps, he waited for her to reach him.

Lisa considered turning around and jogging away again, but that’d be too obvious. She ran from no one, definitely not from Hart Winston.

Instead, she strode up to him and, as she went right on past, asked, “What are you doing here?”

He picked up the food and followed after her. “I came to see you, naturally. To talk.”

Lisa could feel him right there behind her. Probably looking at her behind in the snug shorts.

Oh, God.

“You should have called first, Hart. I’m busy.” He stayed far too close.

In a voice too deep, he said, “So I see.”

A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed his interest. He’d removed the sunglasses and was indeed looking at her backside. Breath escaped from her lungs. “Now is not a good time. I need to shower and get dressed—”

“Want some help with that?”

Yes. “No.” After unlocking the door, Lisa turned to face him. Without benefit of heels, she felt extra small compared to him. Not only was he tall, but he was also broad shouldered with a solid chest and impressive biceps.

She stared up at him, got sidetracked by his mouth, then by the glossy darkness of his hair. Her chest hurt. “You’ll have to come back later.”

Juggling everything into one hand, he stretched out a long, muscled arm and flattened his hand on the wall beside her head.

She felt caged—and, shamefully, liked it.

“Come on, Lisa,” he cajoled. “Cut me some slack. I even brought donuts as a peace offering.”

As if the man needed a bribe. “I’m a mess, Hart.”

His gaze moved over her face, down to the sweat-damp front of her T-shirt, then down to her legs. “That’s not quite how I’d describe you.” He looked into her eyes, smiled, and said low, “You grub up real good, woman.”

How could he make that sound like such a sensual compliment? Lisa forced a benign smile. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have sweat on my sweat.”

“You smell earthy and warm. I like it.”

He could smell her? That broke the spell. Horrified, Lisa pivoted on her heel to make a hasty entrance into her apartment. “I need to get a shower.”

Before she could get the door shut, he stepped in behind her. “Fine. Don’t mind me. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.” She was about to protest that when he added, “Hard as it’ll be, I promise to behave myself. I’ll even save you a donut or two, so take all the time you want.”

Yeah, right. No way would she feel comfortable lingering naked in the shower while Hart Winston moseyed around her place unattended. “Stay in the kitchen,” she ordered.

He crossed his heart and grinned like the rascal she knew him to be.

Rather than waste more time debating it with him, Lisa went into her bedroom, gathered a change of clothes, and ducked into the bathroom. When the lock on the door gave a loud click, she heard Hart laugh.

Her reflection in the mirror was the stuff of nightmares. Sweaty, lank hair that had escaped her ponytail stuck to her neck and temples. Exertion turned her complexion ruddy. Heat had left her soft T-shirt limp and shapeless. She looked like a hag.

So why had Hart acted so turned on?

Lisa answered her own question—because the man was always ready, no matter what.

The sooner she answered his questions, the sooner she could get him out of her life again. Much as that thought dismayed her, she knew it was the wisest choice.

In record time, Lisa showered, washed her hair, and brushed her teeth. Dressing in her favorite pair of stay-at-home faded jeans and a beige tank top, she girded herself with a pep talk. After combing out her wet hair and leaving it loose, she put her glasses back on and was ready to rejoin Hart. Not more than fifteen minutes had passed.

The second she came into the hall, he left his seat. For an extended moment in time, he just stared at her, from her bare feet to her snug, comfy jeans, to her beige tank.

Lisa lifted her chin, almost daring him to comment.

Instead, he cleared his throat and held out a chair for her at the kitchen table.

She shook her head. No way was she getting that close to him. Not yet. Not with that particular gleam in his eyes.

Sounding a little hoarse, Hart asked, “How do you like your coffee?”

“In someone else’s mug.” She’d never quite gotten the taste for coffee. She preferred tea.

“That’s what I thought, so I put the teakettle on to boil.” He no sooner announced that than the kettle began to whistle. “Where do you keep your tea?”

That he offered to wait on her took her by surprise. “Sit down, Hart. I’ll take care of it.”

“But this is my treat—my way of apologizing.”

“Not necessary.” But it was still nice that he went to so much trouble.

Did he really feel that bad about sneaking out the proverbial morning after, or was this more about him wanting her cooperation in sharing the details of what she’d overheard?

He didn’t go to the table, choosing instead to prop his big body against the counter. Lisa inched around him to reach for a cup from the cabinet and then found a tea bag in the canister beside the stove. As she poured boiling water in the cup, she glanced at Hart.

The man had the most tactile gaze imaginable. She felt his attention, and it unnerved her.

“You have a good time last night?”

“Hmmm?” She stirred her tea to buy herself some time.

“Last night. Your big date?” He studied her. “Things go as planned?”

“I didn’t have a plan.” Not after Hart had dropped in on her.

“You were going to jump his bones, remember?” His brows came down in consternation, and he sidled closer. Softly, as if in commiseration, he asked, “Didn’t quite work out, huh?”

Of all the . . . “None of your business.”

Scrutinizing her, he drew his own conclusion and let out a relieved breath. “Right you are.” He gestured toward the table. “Let’s take a seat and chat.”

Since that served her purpose, Lisa didn’t argue. “Fine, let’s.”

He held out her chair first, then seated himself, lounging back in easy comfort and gazing at her with expectation.

Lisa cleared her throat. “I thought about everything last night.”

“While you were with the other dude?”

Why did he keep pressing her on that? If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was jealous. “No, after I got home,” she lied.

“Mmmm.” His fingers tapped the tabletop. “When was that, exactly?”

Exasperated, Lisa gave him a long look that showed her impatience with his attempts at prying.

Hart held up both hands. “Sorry.” He tipped his head to watch her. “So after prolonged consideration, what did you decide?”

“I accept your explanation about being busy and out of touch. I overreacted, I think, in getting annoyed that you hadn’t called back.” She fiddled with the teacup. “Truth is, I realize things are different for you.”

One eyebrow lifted. “Different?”

Lisa gestured. “Most people return phone calls as a matter of common courtesy. But I assume you get a lot of calls from a lot of women—Hart Winston, you can wipe that smug grin right off your face.”

He laughed. “I’m sorry, but you’re cute.”

“Now you’re just being condescending.” Her appearance had improved with the shower and clean clothes, but she’d deliberately left herself as plain as possible. Nothing cute in that.

He leaned forward. “No, I mean it. You’re so damn nice all the time that you’re even willing to make up excuses for me.”

“You’re saying you don’t have women calling all the time?”

Almost as if on cue, his phone rang.

They locked eyes. Hart winced; Lisa sighed.

“Answer it.”

Chagrined, he glanced at the number and shook his head. “Ah, no. It’s not important.”

Unbelievable. “That was a woman, wasn’t it?”

He hesitated. “Yes?”

“You don’t know?”

“It feels like a trick question.”

Of all the idiotic . . . “My point is,” Lisa said, determined to get this over with, “you probably thought I was trying to hit on you after we’d both agreed that our time together was a one-shot deal.”

“Not really, no.”

Her head started to spin. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you’re wrong, that I didn’t blow off your calls, assuming you wanted another go-around. It’s just that I really was busy with a training camp and—”

His phone rang again. Apologetic, Hart glanced at the number, then put the phone back down without answering.

Lisa’s teeth clicked together. “Is there a reason you don’t just turn it off, seeing as you don’t answer anyway?”

“There’s a reason.” He sipped his coffee before answering, then met her annoyed gaze. “Family has this number, as do some of the fight promoters and my training coach.”

“I see.” Apparently everyone was more important than the women he dated.

Lisa wanted to throw her tea at him, but she refrained.

He wedged a hand into his jeans pocket, pulled out his wallet, and withdrew a card. He slid it across the table to her. “I don’t think I ever gave you my cell number.”

No, he hadn’t. She’d had only his apartment number and the number she’d found for his cousin Joe. “Thank you, but I no longer have any reason to call you.” And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Not that you’d answer anyway, right?”

He looked far too serious when he said, “If you call me, Lisa, I’ll answer. I swear.”

That rattled her. She didn’t understand him or why he said the things he did.

His card lay on the table between them.

“So . . . to get back to the point here. I realize now that I overreacted. Getting angry with you serves no purpose at all.”

He slouched a little more. “And?”

“I’m happy to share with you what I overheard.”

“No kidding?”

She nodded. “You’re right. I don’t want any injury to you to be on my conscience.”

His brows pinched. “And that’s it? Your conscience is the only reason you’re willing to warn me?”

“What else did you expect?” Unsure of his swift moods, she sipped her tea and waited.

“I don’t know, exactly.” He stewed in silence for a few moments, then snatched up the box of donuts and offered them to her.

Lisa shook her head. “No, thank you. I try to avoid that much sugar.”

He didn’t remove the box. “Live a little.” Eyes darkening, he said, “Again.”

That flustered her enough that she picked out a cream-filled donut before she knew what she was doing. Hart set the box down, put his elbows on the table, and leaned toward her, waiting for her to take a bite.

As soon as she did, he smiled. “Good?”

It was. “Sinful, almost.”

“Yeah.” He watched her so closely, she felt self-conscious. “A little sinfulness is good for you.”

“Depends on the sin, I’d say.”

“And who you’re sinning with.”

Okay, enough of that. She couldn’t banter with him. Not this early. “Let’s get started.”

He went very still. “Yeah, let’s.”

“You’re incorrigible.” She couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Now, have any—”

The ringing of his cell cut her off.

Again he glanced at the phone, then at her, and he shrugged. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

Curiosity burned her. “If it’s the same woman calling, then pe r ha ps—”

“No.”

Maybe she’d throw her tea at him after all. The cup was small and dainty, so it wouldn’t hurt him overly, and the tea had cooled, so . . .

“Lisa?”

She gave up on that particular fantasy. “Have any new women come on to you?”

“Define ‘new.’ ”

Her eyes narrowed. “A woman you aren’t already familiar with. A woman you haven’t dated before.”

“Or slept with?”

Meaning he slept with women he hadn’t formally dated? Of course he had. “Yes.”

Hart hesitated. “Maybe, but like I said, I’ve been busy training, and not dating.”

He had to be kidding her—but he didn’t look like it was a joke. “Not dating?”

He shrugged. “Aka, not seeing anyone.”

Lisa snorted. “Aka, not—”

“Sleeping with anyone. Exactly.”

Astounded, she dropped back in her seat. “You’re telling me that you’ve been celibate? Since when?”

“For far too long, honey.” He left his seat and moved toward her. “Since I slept with you, actually.”

Three

Hart saw Lisa’s chest expand with a sharply indrawn breath. He knew what she expected him to do, but he was done being predictable. She thought she had him all figured out, and he wanted to surprise her.

He paused beside her, smiled, and moved on past to get a napkin off the counter.

When he returned to his seat, she still looked shell-shocked.

And his stupid phone rang again.

Cursing under his breath, Hart glanced at the number with disinterest. “Lisa, I don’t want you to think—”

“No,” she said, and she scurried from her seat to get a notepad and pen. “This is good.”

She sounded rattled—which he counted as a good thing. If he confused her enough, maybe she’d give up her rock-solid and not-too-complimentary impressions of him, and really get to know him.

She tossed the pad and pen toward him. “Start keeping track of the women trying to reach you. And you’ll have to answer, to see who wants to hook up.”

Damn, but she looked good today. He’d never imagined her in jeans, but the casual clothes suited her. And her sexy little toes . . . she must keep up on her pedicures, because her feet defined femininity: narrow and soft with a high arch . . .

“Hart, are you listening to me?”

“I was fantasizing about your feet, actually. Sorry.”

She stared at him. “My feet?”

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “You were saying . . . ?”

After snatching up another donut, she pointed to the paper. “You need to track any woman who is interested in you.”

Smiling, Hart picked up the pen and wrote down a name.

She peered across the table, trying to see, so Hart turned the pad for her to read.

She saw her own name written there, and laughed. “Uh, no. Scratch that.”

He shook the pen at her. “I know women too well, Lisa. You’re interested, all right. But you’re denying us both because you think I’d just play you.”

After a long look, she let out a breath and folded her hands in her lap, as if in preparation for a serious discourse. “Hart, really, the thing is, you’re fun to play with.”

“Fun?”

“Definitely. I did enjoy our night together. But I’m a serious woman with serious responsibilities, and we’ve had our one-night fling.”

Meaning one night was enough for her? Too bad. He’d already decided that he wanted more. A lot more.

After that short lecture of hers, and his lack of response, she settled back, content to eat her donut.

Hart didn’t mind the silence. With Lisa, it was pleasant. Comfortable. His phone stayed silent, sunshine slanted through her kitchen window, the coffee was good, the donuts were better.

“This is a real nice way to spend a Saturday morning.”

She turned thoughtful. “It is.” With her donut finished, she wiped off her hands and considered him. “But we need to get down to business, so think—who would want to hurt you?”

“No one. People like me.” He was the type of man other men found easy to befriend, and women had always shown a preference for his company. Even after things ended, women—other than Lisa—didn’t hold it against him.

She stewed in her own thoughts. “As much as you get around, is it possible one of your . . . lady friends has a disgruntled hus b an d—”

“No.”

“—or boyfriend or—”

“I don’t poach,” he told her, dead serious.

Skepticism lifted her brows. “Ever?”

Insulted that she had to ask, Hart scowled at her. “I do not poach. Period. If she’s involved in any way, that’s a big red flag. And besides, I told you I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

Tapping her fingernails on the tabletop, Lisa studied him, and finally said, “Knowing you, that’s just a little hard to believe.”

“You should try living it.” He made a face. Celibacy was not a sport he enjoyed. “But it’s still true.”

“If you say so.”

Umbrage rose. “You don’t believe me?”

She tried a laugh that sounded flat to him. “It’s been weeks since we were together.”

As if he didn’t know that. “All right, let’s get something straight, okay?”

She checked the clock, shrugged. “Shoot.”

Her disinterest in his irritation irked him all the more. “I do not lie.” He stood from his seat and went to hers. “I admit I have more than enough faults for one man, but lying isn’t one of them.”

“Fine. Don’t get your feathers ruffled.”

His teeth ground together. “No, it’s not fine.” Knowing she was only placating him, Hart braced his hands on her chair seat, at either side of her hips. The position put him nose to nose with her. “I told you up-front that I wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship, right? I didn’t lie then, and I’m not lying now. If I wasn’t doing without, I sure as hell would admit it.”

Emotions flashed over her face, starting with intimidation, then awareness, and ending with anger. “Back off.”

In direct contrast to her expression, her voice was small, breathless. When he straightened away from her, she drew in a shaky breath.

“Lisa?”

Slowly, she licked her lips, closed her eyes a moment, then opened them again. “I believe you.”

Hell, seeing her all flushed and breathless had wiped his brain clean of everything but desire. He forgot what they were talking about. “You do?”

“You were celibate. Goody for you.”

“Let’s don’t go overboard, okay?”

She gave him a look—and this time it was her phone that rang. “Excuse me.”

Hart listened in as she picked up a receiver in the kitchen and spoke quietly for a few minutes. Apparently someone had a dental emergency, which meant his time with her was about to be cut short.

Sure enough, as soon as she hung up, she began hustling him out of the kitchen. “I need to go to the office.”

“Everything okay?”

Impatient to be on her way, she rushed through an explanation. “One of my patients, a young man, fell and broke a front tooth.”

“Ouch.” He opened the front door, but didn’t step out. “We need to finish discussing this.”

“The rest of my Saturday is taken.”

She’d said that a little too fast. “Are you free tomorrow morning, then?”

Her sleek brown hair bounced as she shook her head. “Tomorrow is fine, but I like to jog on the weekends, so I prefer later in the day.”

“Let’s plan on lunch, then. I can pick you up at noon.” When she hesitated, he lowered his voice and said, “Or would you prefer we stay here, at your apartment?”

“No, a restaurant is fine. But I’ll meet you there.”

“Because?”

Her brows leveled out. “I prefer to have my own car handy.”

In case she decided to run out on him, probably. But he could live with that. “Not a problem.” He named a restaurant convenient for both of them, and then, before she could guess his intent, he leaned in and kissed her.

He’d meant for it to be no more than a quick good-bye peck. But she froze, so he didn’t pull away, and the touch of their mouths lingered, grew heated. Hart inched closer to her; she didn’t object.

He turned his head just a little; her lips parted.

Breath hitching, he slowly took hold of her shoulders and drew her to his body. He felt no resistance at all, only giving and excitement and astounding heat.

Silly woman. Their one night would now just be the first of many.

Rather than press his luck, Hart gently pulled back. Her eyes were still shut, and a pulse raced in her throat. He had to kiss that, too, and in the process of tasting her soft skin, he inhaled the sweet scent of her.

“Tomorrow, Lisa.” When he touched her cheek, her thick lashes fluttered up, showing her dazed eyes. “I’m looking forward to it.” Right before he turned away, Hart saw her gaze sharpen with fresh understanding of what had just happened.

The door slammed behind him, but it didn’t diminish his grin. Now he knew he would definitely get her under him again, and he could hardly wait. But when it happened, he’d damn straight leave on the lights—and he’d see everything.

Dressed in her stuffiest clothes, her ugliest “sensible” shoes, and with her hair in a severe twist at the back of her head, Lisa stared at the entrance to the restaurant. On a hot Sunday afternoon there was no real reason for her to wear the very plain beige suit jacket and skirt with a buttoned-up white blouse, complete with a collar that tied shut, except that she wanted all the armor she could get between herself and Hart Winston’s irresistible appeal.

The man had already proven how quickly her weak defenses crumbled when he turned on the charm. If she wanted to survive this newest encounter, she had to come prepared.

Clutch purse held under her elbow, Lisa straightened her jacket and headed into the restaurant, hoping to be seated before he arrived. But to her dismay, she’d gotten no more than a few steps inside before she spotted not only Hart, but another large, impressive male at the table with him.

Heavens. Her jaw loosened, her eyes widened, and she stood there as the air-conditioned air that should have cooled her didn’t.

The guy with Hart looked . . . dangerous—in a very sexy way. He was older than Hart, probably by two decades, but that didn’t lessen his impact at all. Even sitting, she could tell that he stood well over six feet tall and was rock-solid. Inky blue-black hair showed only faint traces of silver at his temples. When he pulled at his ear, Lisa noticed a small gold hoop.

Suddenly, maybe because of her stare, he turned to look at her, and she got ensnared in flinty, dark blue eyes heavily fringed with black lashes.

Lord have mercy.

The man nudged Hart, and they both pushed back their chairs as if in preparation for her joining them.

Only her feet wouldn’t move. She did, however, get her mouth shut. How embarrassing.

Rallying herself, Lisa straightened her glasses, chided Hart with a frown, and made her way to the table. Taking the initiative, she said to Hart, “You could have told me you were bringing a guest.”

He cleared his throat. “I, ah . . .”

Lisa looked at him again, and her eyes flared. “You’re not Hart.”

One brow lifted. “You sure?”

“Well, of course I’m sure.” She snorted, embarrassing herself again, then held out a hand. “You must be the twin he mentioned.”

Her hand got engulfed as the brother treated her to a broad smile that was gorgeous, but not quite as cocky as Hart’s. “Dexter. And you must be Lisa.”

“Nice to meet you, Dexter. My, but you’re almost the spitting image of your brother, aren’t you?”

“Or vice versa.” He gestured to the big fellow next to him. “This is our cousin Joe Winston.”

Flustered all over again, Lisa girded herself and faced the big man. Along with that edge of menace, he oozed raw sex appeal.

Was this what Hart would look like in his prime? If so, then God save her, because he’d be even more devastating in his midfor ties than he was in his late twenties.

Fashioning a smile out of her stiff lips, Lisa said, “Hello, Mr. Winston.”

“Damn, now I do feel old.” He used her proffered hand as a leash and hauled her in close to brush a warm kiss to the cheek. “Just call me Joe.”

A swoon threatened.

And then Dexter laughed. “No reason to blush. Joe has that effect on everyone, even his wife, who you’d think would be used to him by now.” Dex held out her chair.

Before her legs gave out, Lisa sat.

As the men took their seats, Dex asked, “How did you know?”

She raised a brow in query.

“That I’m not Hart, I mean.”

“Oh.” Lisa shrugged. “You’re not Hart, that’s all. There are differences.”

Joe smirked. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“What differences?” Dex wanted to know.

She had to give it some thought, and admitted, “It’s subtle. But Hart has some singular expressions, a certain air about him, and he holds himself differently, with more negligence.” She looked around. “Where is Hart, anyway?”

With a toss of his head, Joe indicated the back of the restaurant. Lisa saw Hart making his way to their table.

“Sorry,” he said. “I had to take a call, and I couldn’t hear up here.”

A call from a woman? Lisa did her best to hide her reaction to that, but she did say, “This better not have been a test, Hart Winston.”

“Or what?” He raked his gaze over her, frowning at the neat bow tied at her throat, and dropped into his seat. “What’s with the matronly duds again? Is that your idea of a chastity belt?”

Everyone froze. Lisa gave serious consideration to throwing a glass of water in his face.

Joe chuckled. “Thus, one of the differences. You see, Dex has some class. Hart—nada.”

“I have class,” Hart argued.

Dex rolled his eyes. “A weight class, but that’s about it.” He slugged his brother in the shoulder. “You just insulted the lady, you idiot, in front of your family.”

Hart looked at her, his blue eyes smoldering, his mouth curving into a grin. “Ah, sweetheart, did I? Insult you, I mean?”

For answer, she fried him with a look.

A waiter came for their drink orders, breaking the icy tension. Dex asked for a cola, Hart kept his water, and Joe requested coffee. Lisa declined anything, determined to keep this visit as short as possible. Whatever bug had gotten to Hart’s butt, she wouldn’t put up with him by extending this visit any more than necessary.

Laying her napkin on the table, Lisa turned to Joe. “You’re here as added counsel about the attack planned against Hart?”

“My specialty,” Joe concurred.

A curious statement, but Lisa didn’t question him. She wanted only to finish this and be on her way. “A week or more before I contacted you, I was at a bar in town—”

“With who?” Hart asked.

Lisa paused, considered several cutting replies, and chose instead to ignore him. “I was sitting somewhat in the corner, and next to me, at another table, were two men. They were conversing very quietly, but when I heard Hart’s name, I started to listen. Not that I normally engage in eavesdropping, of course.”

Dex said, “Of course not.”

Hart slid down in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a sign of disgruntlement.

Joe gave him a sideways glance, hid a smile, and said, “Go on. I’m listening.”

“The men said that Hart was an obnoxious ass—or words to that effect—and though I agreed, they spoke with a certain vitriol that alarmed me.”

Hart nudged Dex, saying, “She speaks like you write.”

They all continued to ignore him.

“The men agreed that Hart needed to be taken down a peg or two, and they decided the best way to accomplish that would be to ensure he wouldn’t win, rather than leave it to the judges.” Lisa frowned as she recalled the conversation. “At the time I didn’t understand what they meant by that, but they didn’t appear inebriated, so I took the threat seriously.”

“He has a fight coming up,” Joe said. “A big one, sort of his major debut as an SBC contender. Maybe his popularity was a little quick for some to like it.”

“Did the men look like fighters?” Dex asked.

“I don’t know what a fighter looks like,” Lisa told them. “I certainly never suspected that Hart, who I knew only as a painter, would engage in such a thing. But I’d recognize the men if I saw them again.”

“I have an idea on that,” Joe confided. “But first, let me hear the rest.”

Lisa nodded. “One of the men, the more muscular of the two, said that he could arrange for a ‘skirt’ to get Hart alone.”

“A woman,” Dex said.

“I took the derogatory comment to mean that, yes.” Lisa frowned at Hart, and he gave her a look that asked, What did I do?

She shook her head. “And then he—the other man—said he would hit Hart in the leg, or perhaps the arm, with the intent of disabling him. I believe a baseball bat was mentioned as the weapon of choice.”

Hart winced. “Damn. My leg?”

Dex frowned in worry.

“He said that with a busted elbow or knee, Hart wouldn’t be able to fight for a while, but that it’d look like a mugging, not anything more.” She glanced at Hart. “The other fellow suggested that perhaps it’d be prudent to take out both the knee and the elbow, just for good measure.”

Joe sat back. “It almost has to be someone in your weight class hoping to scale down the competition.”

“Thinking back, I agree.” Lisa mused over the comments. “There was a ring of jealousy, and I believe that with Hart out of the running, the man thought he’d have a better chance of ‘walk ing through’ his weight class.”

“I thought they all liked me,” Hart murmured, clearly disturbed by the deviousness.

Lisa almost felt sorry for him. But not enough to offer genuine sympathy, not after that crude comment he’d made on her attire—true as it might have been.

The comment had been especially stinging since she’d struggled with wanting to dress sexier for him, to see his appreciation again. But she was not a stupid woman, and saw no reason to prod his interest.

She turned to Joe Winston for a distraction. “So how do you play in this? Are you a police officer or something?”

Joe grinned. “Nah. I run a casual resort on a lake with my wife and kids.”

Dex laughed. “Don’t let Joe fool you. He’s been everything from a bounty hunter to a private eye and a bodyguard. He has unique skills that come in handy in situations like this.”

“Meaning he thinks as ruthlessly as the criminals do,” Hart pointed out. “Until he met Luna and settled down into marital bliss, he was a real hell-raiser.”

“Still is,” Dex said, “when the situation calls for raising some hell.”

But Lisa barely heard Dex. Staring at Hart, she said, “You believe in marital bliss?”

Lounging back in his chair, fingers laced over his stomach, Hart treated her to a slow, knowing smile. “I’ll have to introduce you to my other cousins. They’ve all settled down and started families, and they’re the happiest bunch of ex-bachelors you’d ever want to meet.”

Joe bobbed his eyebrows suggestively. “Very happy.” He nodded across the table. “Old Dex here will be tying the knot soon enough too.”

Amazing. Lisa forced her gaze away from Hart to his brother. “You’re engaged?”

“Funny story,” Dex said, “but I met the right woman while pretending to be Hart. Talk about awkward . . .”

The men all laughed over some inside joke.

Fascinated, Lisa wondered how in the world Dex ever managed such subterfuge. The differences between the two men, in her mind, were quite noticeable. “How did you fool her?”

Hart perked up at that, but before he could say anything, the waiter returned with their drinks. When he asked for their orders, Joe told him to give them a little more time.

As soon as he was gone, Dex leaned forward to share the story with Lisa. “Hart wanted some private time to train without the family knowing, so I moved into his place, and just claimed to be him. No one suspected a thing—except Christy. She picked up on differences right off.”

“I’m sure she did.”

Hart looked between them with heightened awareness.

Dex slanted a look at his brother. “She barely knew Hart, and what she did know, she didn’t like all that much.”

Lisa grinned.

“When I behaved differently from Hart, it confused her.”

“Especially his pursuit of her,” Hart pointed out, “given that I’d made a point not to get too friendly with any of the women in my apartment complex.”

“I think when she found out the truth, she was more relieved than anything.” Dex smiled. “She forgave me, and finally started calling me by my name, instead of Hart’s.”

Lisa could only imagine how uncomfortable that had to have been for both of them. “But you were truly able to fool her?”

Dex shrugged. “You had the advantage of already knowing that Hart had a twin brother.”

Brows drawn in confusion, Hart leaned forward, saying to his brother, “Did she—”

“She did,” Joe told him.

Hart stared at her. “You knew he wasn’t me?”

She rolled her eyes. “As soon as I approached the table, yes.”

“How?”

Lisa gave him a long look, considered explaining, but then narrowed her eyes instead. “I’m really not talking to you right now.”

Affront straightened his back. “What the hell did I do?”

Dex elbowed him before saying, “Christy is planning the wedding, but in the meantime, she lives with me instead of next door to my brother.”

“Dex doesn’t trust me,” Hart said.

And Lisa agreed. “I don’t either.” She pushed back her chair.

Joe forestalled her with a hand to her forearm. “We haven’t even ordered yet.”

And she wasn’t going to. Sitting across from Hart, knowing the indifference he felt, was nearly painful. Her demure clothing might dissuade him from lascivious thoughts, but it did nothing to make her yearning ebb. “I didn’t really come to eat, just to share what I know, and that’s done.”

Joe stood, too, as did the brothers. Dex looked uneasy; Hart, frustrated.

“What are your evenings like?” Joe asked.

Boring, but she wouldn’t admit it. “Why?”

“I’d like to get everyone together at this place where the fighters hang out. Maybe the guys will show up there and you’ll recognize them.”

“Oh, um . . .” She did not want to spend an evening with Hart. “Why not just report them to the authorities? Surely they could investigate.”

“We can’t prove anything. They could say you misunderstood their conversation—but I don’t think you did. I want to catch them in the act.”

“Yeah,” Hart grumbled, “and I have to trust everyone that I won’t get maimed.”

“Sissy,” Dex accused, surprising Lisa with the insult until Hart laughed.

She said, “Don’t worry, Skippy. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” But she was worried.

“Skippy?” Dex repeated in confusion. “Hart ‘Skippy’ Winston. I like it.”

“Don’t start,” Hart said with a dark scowl.

Lisa stewed. Would Hart be injured? Could he possibly even be . . . killed? Hoping for reassurance, she said to Joe, “Do you have a foolproof plan?”

“Actually, it’s Hart’s plan, but I don’t see a problem with using him as bait. At the very least, it’ll be expedient.” Joe squeezed her shoulder. “We need to expose the guys, or Hart will forever be looking over his shoulder. And I can tell you from experience, anyone determined to get to him will manage it eventually. So can I impose on you to join us?”

She didn’t want to, but what choice did she have? Without looking at Hart, she nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Great. Let’s get started tonight, say nine o’clock. Does that work for you?”

No way would she admit that most nights, nine o’clock found her in her pajamas on the couch watching DVDs. “That would be fine.”

Joe gave her brief directions on how to get to the bar. “We’ll hang out till midnight, unless you spot the guys before then. And if you don’t . . . we’ll go back the next night.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Hart told her.

“Actually, you won’t.” Without another word to Hart, she bade Joe and Dex good-bye and made what she hoped appeared to be a steady exit when in truth, conflicting emotions left her churning. She’d be with Hart tonight, and every night until they found the guys.

Given her weakness around him, maybe she should buy herself a chastity belt.

Four

Lisa no sooner walked away than Hart slouched back down in his seat.

Dex gave him a pitying look. “You should have walked her out.”

“So she could snub me some more?”

Joe laughed. “She’s not what I expected.”

Immediately on the defensive, Hart turned to him. “She’s gorgeous when she lets herself be.”

“That’s plain.” Joe smirked. “I’m not blind or anything.”

Dex laughed. “Remember, brother, Joe sees through feminine disguises.”

“Wasn’t much of a disguise, if you ask me,” Joe said. “In fact, I always took more sedate clothes as a dare, if you get my drift.”

“I get it,” Hart snarled, knowing Joe had eyes only for his wife, but still pinched with jealousy.

When Joe only laughed again, egged on by Dex, Hart said, “So what was unexpected?”

Dex spoke before Joe could. “She’s a hell of a lot more engaging than most of the women you seek out.”

“Yeah.” He had to agree with that. She certainly engaged him—on many levels.

“Funnier, too, with that prickly wit of hers,” Joe said. “She put you in your place.”

“Yeah.” And Hart had to admit he liked where she put him. He glanced toward the exit.

“You could probably still catch her,” Joe told him, “and apologize properly for being such a dumb ass.”

“I don’t know . . .” She’d made it clear how she felt about him.

“She knew I wasn’t you,” Dex announced. “Right off. No hesitation. Didn’t you tell me that was a rarity?”

“It’s unheard-of.” Hart stewed for three seconds more, then bolted from the table to go after Lisa.

Joe sighed. “I guess this means I’m picking up the tab?”

Hart didn’t slow down. His brother and his cousin could both afford lunch, and besides, he hadn’t even eaten.

He spotted Lisa unlocking her car across the street. “Lisa!” He jogged toward her.

She looked up, shielded her eyes with a hand, and waited.

Hart had to smile at the picture she presented. Joe had nailed it—she was a challenge, and that damn tie at her throat only made him want to untie it.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A lot of things.” Not touching her was impossible, so he brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Behind her glasses, her nose scrunched. “For?”

“The crack about your clothes.”

“Oh.” And then, “That was remarkably rude.”

“And for being a jealous jerk.”

Her eyelashes fluttered. “What?”

Damn, he couldn’t take it. He cupped both hands around her neck. “I saw you ogling Joe.”

She stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Baloney. He made you all tongue-tied, when I’ve never seen you get that way. You’re usually the most self-confident woman I know.”

“I am?”

“Hell, even from the back of the restaurant I could see you blushing.”

Confusion darkened her soft brown eyes, and her tongue slipped out to dampen her bottom lip. “I was somewhat affected by him.”

He locked his jaw.

“I assume that you’ll probably look like him one day. That’s what affected me, thinking of you a few years down the road.”

“Do you? Think of me?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she refused to answer. “There are strong family resemblances between you.”

Hart hid his grin. “All the Winston guys have a certain look about them, or so the women say.”

“I can imagine.”

Hart hoped that was jealousy stiffening her lips. To keep her from running off, he changed the subject. “Did you know that my brother, Dex, is a writer? He uses the name Baxter for his novels.”

She drew back in surprise. “I’ve read him.”

“So had Christy. She even got smashed one night and quoted one of his love scenes back to him—thinking he was me. Can you imagine how she felt when she sobered up? Dex told her he was a writer, and even showed her the book.” Hart grinned. “Funny shit, huh?”

“You’re warped. That poor girl had to be mortified.”

Hart shrugged. “I’m sure Dex made it up to her somehow.” He smoothed her cheeks with his thumbs, and badly wanted to kiss her.

“Hart?”

“Hmmm.” He stared at her mouth, almost tasting her. He’d always enjoyed seeing lipstick on women, but Lisa’s bare lips seemed twice as appealing.

Lisa’s voice shook as she said, “I don’t understand you. Why are you doing this?”

“This?”

“Coming on to me.” She caught his wrists, but didn’t pull his hands away. “You are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Most definitely.

She made a frustrated sound. “But you had your one-night stand, and you got your fill, so—”

“I didn’t.”

Lisa rolled in her lips, blinked, and waited.

“Get my fill, that is.” His muscles all tensed; his voice went low and deep. “Damn, woman, not by a long shot do I feel done with you.”

Hesitantly, she said, “I . . . You mean . . .” But she didn’t finish either sentence.

“It’s making me nuts thinking about you going out with that putz oral surgeon dude, and what you might have done with him.” His voice went deeper still, rough and raw. “What I’d rather you be doing with me.”

“Nothing.”

Hart couldn’t blame her for denying it, but he felt the damn chemistry. Still. She wanted him, maybe not as much as he wanted her, but he could work on that.

“How can you say that?” Moving closer to her, Hart hid her from view of the street with his body. He put his palm beneath her breast in the silky blouse, right over her heart. “Your heartbeat is pounding double time.”

She drew a breath, nodded, and admitted, “You always do that to me.”

Hell, yes. “Well, then . . .”

She licked her lips again. “I meant that I did nothing with the oral surgeon dude—who, by the way, is not a putz at all.”

Hart grinned at how she mimicked his words, even as he felt encouraged. “Really? Nothing happened? Not even a little something?”

Her chin lifted. “If you want the painful truth, the entire night was a bust.” Her eyes narrowed in accusation. “And I had looked forward to that night for more than a week!”

“Why did nothing happen?” God, he needed to know.

Lowering her head, she mumbled, “You . . . distracted me from my original intent.”

Never before had a grumbled accusation made him semihard, but that confession did. “I won’t say I’m sorry, Lisa. Not when I still want you.”

Heat warmed her cheeks, and her expression turned chiding. “You’re too bold.”

The weight of her breast rested over the back of his hand, but he didn’t dare cop a feel, not here, damn near in the street, where anyone could see . . .

A thought occurred to him, and he asked her, “Are my cousin and brother watching us through the restaurant window?”

Looking beyond him, she scowled. “Yes, they are.” And with that, she shoved him away.

Hart sighed. “Let me pick you up tonight. It’ll give us a chance to sort this out.”

“There shouldn’t be a ‘this’ to sort out.”

Maybe not, but that didn’t change the facts. “Let’s face it—there is still something between us.”

She surprised him by looking resigned. “Fine.”

Now it was his heart thumping. He couldn’t help but press his luck. Tentatively, he broached possibilities. “Given that we’re both mature, reasonable people, maybe after we leave the bar, we could pick up where we left off?”

Her chest swelled with a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” He leaned down to put a light kiss on her mouth. “You want me, Lisa. God knows I want you. In a couple more weeks I’m going to have to leave for a training camp, and I won’t be back until after the fight.”

“When is the fight?”

“Not for a few months yet, and while I stay in shape, fighting shape is something altogether different. I’ll put in at least six weeks of specialized training. There won’t be much time for anything else.”

“Ah, and you’re going to be celibate again?”

So much skepticism. He grinned at her. “Unless you want to travel with me.” Actually, that teasing comment had merit. Could a dentist get that kind of time off? He didn’t know. But he fingered that frothy bow at her neck and said, “If you find time to visit, I promise to be available.”

“And other than me?”

“Celibacy it is.” Without Lisa, the thought of doing without wasn’t all that repugnant. “You might not believe it, but the only woman I want right now is you.”

“Right now,” she acknowledged.

Her gaze holding his, she reached behind herself, shifted, and opened the car door. She slipped away from him and got behind the wheel. For several seconds she just sat there, appearing to be in deep thought.

Finally she closed the door, rolled down the window, and said, “All right.”

Heat washed over him, tightening the coil of tension and lust. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “As you said, we’re both adults. And truthfully, I haven’t gotten my fill either.”

Damn, the things she did to him should be illegal. He nodded with ripening anticipation. “Sounds great.”

“But one thing, Hart.”

Caution edged in. “What is it?”

“This time the lights stay on.”

Hart moved uneasily in his seat, his gaze glued to Lisa at the bar. He’d been watching her for hours now. She spoke with everyone, flirted, and damn, she looked great. He almost regretted bringing her here. When she’d answered her door, the thought of taking her straight to bed, and to hell with their plan, had almost sidetracked him.

In fact, if it hadn’t been for Lisa and her no-n onsense manner of business first, pleasure later, that was exactly what he would have done.

He hated seeing other guys come on to her. He especially hated seeing her encourage them.

Joe’s elbow gouged his ribs. “Stop staring at her, will you? She’s going to catch fire, you look so hot under the collar.”

Dex, in typical brotherly fashion, said, “But she does look sexy as hell, Joe. How can he resist? Especially with every other guy in the bar ogling her.”

Hart rubbed his chin. “She’s a damned chameleon, always changing on me, one day looking like a librarian, and the next like . . . I don’t know. A complete hottie.”

“We wanted her to attract male attention, doofus.” Joe sipped at his drink. “Although, I gotta tell you, with that fitted dress and exposed cleavage, the glasses are overkill.”

“Yeah,” Dex said. “She does wear glasses with a certain panache.”

“It’s called elegance,” Hart mumbled.

Joe agreed with a nod. “She was attractive and appealing enough in the shapeless suit with matronly shoes at the bottom of those extra-long legs.” He took a sip of his drink. “Like this . . . well, it makes me wonder why you’re dragging your feet.”

Hart’s jaw worked as he gnashed his teeth together. Joe was right; no matter what, Lisa turned him on.

Tonight, she looked downright incredible. The trim but classy cream-colored dress ended just above her knees. Pearl buttons marched from the hem to the heart-shaped neckline, where she showed off the upper swells of her breasts. Her high heels made her legs look longer than ever.

“She does have great legs,” Dex agreed. “Looks like most of the guys here have noticed too.”

Hart scowled at them both. “I’m glad you two can have your jollies at my expense.”

Joe chuckled. “Why don’t you just give it up and admit you’re sunk?”

“Sunk?” Yeah, he was, but he didn’t need to admit shit to his cousin or his brother. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Flattened,” Dex clarified. “Head over heels. Boggled and blinded. All that good stuff.”

“Don’t worry,” Joe told him. “It only hurts until you stop denying it, and then it’s not so bad.”

“Oh, shit.” Hart forgot his objections to Joe’s claim when Lisa slipped off the barstool. She gave him a quick, sultry glance before strolling toward a table where two men sat.

“She hasn’t approached anyone else,” Dex pointed out, all teasing gone. “You think those are the guys?”

Joe said nothing. He was too busy sizing up the dudes at the table. He had that certain look about him that spelled trouble.

For the other guy.

When one of the men touched her arm, Hart wasn’t able to stand it. Knowing how unscrupulous and dangerous the two men could be, he didn’t want Lisa anywhere near the bastards. He started to rise.

He got yanked back to his seat by Joe. “She’s fine, Hart. Nothing will happen in here. Let her do her thing.”

Lisa had moved out of reach with a laugh, so Hart sank back into the chair. “If they touch her again, I’m breaking their arms.”

“You’ll get your chance.” Shrugging, Joe stayed alert, but didn’t stare. “But for now, you’re too obvious. I’ve got them in my sights, so why don’t you chat with your brother or something?”

“Yeah,” Dex said, taking the hint. “Tell me how you talked Lisa into coming to the bar with you. Last time I saw her, she looked ready to skin you alive.”

“I reasoned with her.” Hart didn’t want to make small talk, but he didn’t want Lisa’s efforts to be wasted either.

“There,” Joe said. “She’s on the move again. No, Hart, you stay put. I’ll trail her out and see what’s what. I’ll call you when I know it’s clear and no one is watching us.”

Dex took pity on him. “You trust Joe. You know he won’t let anything happen to her.”

Hart watched as Joe, staying several yards behind, followed Lisa out of the main bar area, without looking like he was following her. When they were both out of sight, it was all he could do to contain himself. He should be the man looking after her, not his cousin.

Dex tried to engage him in conversation, but Hart couldn’t seem to center his thoughts on anything or anyone other than Lisa.

In a dozen different ways, he wanted her—to talk with her, protect her, laugh with her, and tease her. He enjoyed matching wits, arguing with her, and God knew he loved making love to her.

Tonight he’d have her again, and he planned to make it so memorable, she’d stop trying to push him away.

Suddenly a busty, perfumed woman stood in front of their table. She wore a short, fitted black dress that hugged every inch of her lush body, and extremely high-heeled strappy sandals. Pale blond hair and bright red lips gave her a Marilyn Monroe look.

She glanced back and forth between Dex and Hart.

Dex grinned, knowing her predicament. “Can I help you?”

She licked plump, painted lips. “You’re Hart Winston, the fighter?”

Dex grinned. “No, ma’am. I’m his twin and a lowly writer. That’s Hart, looking very distracted—probably about his upcoming fight.”

“Oh.” She turned toward Hart and smiled with giddy delight. “I didn’t know you were a twin.”

Hart tamped down his irritation. If this was the woman sent by the goons, then he couldn’t dismiss her as he wanted to. He had to play along.

Summoning up some masculine charm, he rose from the table and held out a hand. “I’m the evil twin,” he told her with a smile. “And you are?”

“Caroline Welsh.” She went all giggly on him. “I’m a huge fan.”

Hart held his smile with effort. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“You look so impressive, I just know you’re going to win your fight.”

“Damn straight.” It was all he could do not to glance at the goons. “Will you be attending the fight, or watching on TV?”

“I’ll be there! I follow the fights all over the country. I love the excitement of a live event.” She licked her lips. “And I just love hanging out with the fighters.”

Great. Hart strained his good manners. “Well, maybe I’ll see you there.”

Turning coy, she fluttered thick black lashes and put a hand on his forearm. “Please don’t tell me I have to wait months before we get better acquainted.”

Hart started to answer, and his cell phone rang. He held up a finger. “Excuse me just a second, will you, honey?”

She pouted, but glanced at Dex.

Dex whistled and turned away.

“Yeah,” Hart said into the phone, already knowing from the caller ID that it was Joe.

“We weren’t followed, and she’s in your car, waiting for you. I’ll keep an eye on her until you get out here, but you should have a babe coming up to you before long.”

“Exactly,” Hart said. “Already done.”

“Ah, she moved fast. Lisa overheard them finalizing the plan, which is why she approached to get a better look at them. Anyway, those are your boys, the ones who want to mangle your limbs. Make note of their mugs so you can identify them later, and then make a date with the chick for sometime soon, but not for tonight.”

“Definitely not.” He had Lisa waiting, and no other woman could compare to her.

“Lisa got their names, too, so that’ll help. But we’ll catch them in the act, just to make sure we have all the proof we need.”

“Got it,” Hart said, anxious to be done so he could join Lisa. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

After he hung up, he turned to Caroline again. “Sorry, but that was business. Now where were we?”

“You,” she said teasingly, stroking his chest, “were about to invite me to join you.”

“Damn, I wish I could. Unfortunately, I have to cut the night short.” When her eyes narrowed, Hart said, “How about tomorrow night? Say eight o’clock?”

“Oh, that’d be perfect!” She brightened again—and stupidly glanced back at the men. “You could pick me up when I get off work.”

“All right.”

Withdrawing a pen and paper from her purse, she wrote down an address. “Are you familiar with the western area? I work there at a small drugstore. I could meet you in the back lot.”

It was a crime-ridden area—perfect for violence—but Hart just shrugged. “No problem.”

Before he knew her intent, she went on tiptoes, grabbed his neck to hug him close, and planted one on him.

She left him cold, though he tried to hide it as he caught her waist and eased her away. His damn brother sat there grinning like an idiot, with one eyebrow raised.

Hart cleared his throat and said, “Let’s save that for when we have some privacy.”

Caroline took several deep breaths, then nodded. “Tomorrow,” she breathed with enough drama for the stage.

As she turned to swish and sway away, Hart glanced at the two men. They quickly averted their eyes, but they’d been watching, and seething.

He looked forward to annihilating them both. “Let’s go,” he said to Dex, who had already stood.

“Don’t look at them anymore,” Dex told him. “It’s too obvious.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’d be easier if I just went over there right now and beat them both to a pulp.”

“What will you do?” Dex asked, knowing Hart wouldn’t instigate anything. He valued his position in the fighting organization too much. “I mean, I know the general idea, but do you have someone you can trust in the SBC to make sure they’re punished beyond a few punches to the face?”

“Drew Black runs an up-front operation, and he’s not going to like it if they do try to carry through with their plan.” They walked past the men, far enough away that they couldn’t be overheard, especially not with the drone of the crowd filling the bar.

Hart could feel their burning gazes on his back. So much hostility, he thought, all because he worked hard and succeeded. Some idiots always wanted a shortcut. “I imagine Drew will kick them out completely.”

“Sounds right to me.”

At the door, Dex and Hart separated, with Dex hanging back to make sure the men didn’t follow. Along with the street lamps and headlights of passing cars, a full moon illuminated the area and the parking lot beyond. Humidity hung in the air, making the night dense, damp.

Sexy.

Hart shook himself. Someone wanted to put him out of commission, and all he could think about was getting Lisa alone.

Somewhere in the shadows, Joe lurked, watching over her. Hart could see the faint outline of her profile where she sat in the passenger seat of his car. Waiting for him.

He inhaled the humid night air and jogged across the street.

The second he opened the car door and slid in, Lisa looked at him—and frowned. He closed the door, putting the interior in shadow once again. Moonlight shone on her glasses, and added a soft glow to her skin.

Hart wanted to kiss her, but before doing anything else, he used his cell to call Joe, letting him know the plan he’d made with Caroline Welsh.

As Lisa listened to him talk, her frown intensified. He could feel her tension in the close confines of the front seat. Jealousy? There was no reason for it, but Hart accepted it as a good sign. Never before had he wanted to deal with a possessive or jealous woman. But this was Lisa, and he was quickly realizing that with her, everything was different.

After disconnecting the call with Joe, Hart turned to her, smiled, and leaned over to take her by surprise with a quick kiss. He kept it short and sweet; otherwise, he might have gotten carried away. He wanted to be alone with her.

He wanted a bed nearby.

And the sooner he got away, the better the odds that no one would see Lisa with him. He didn’t want to take any chance on the men expanding their plot to include her. As he pulled away from the curb, he saw Joe join Dex in front of the bar. Together they headed toward Joe’s truck.

After they were more than a mile from the bar, with Lisa still frowning at him, Hart tried a smile. “Joe said you got their names?”

“Yes.”

He raised a brow. “Care to share with me?”

“Brad Emery and Tyler Stevens.”

He mulled that over, but they didn’t ring a bell. Still, he didn’t know everyone by a long shot, only the guys from his camp. “Never heard of them. You’re sure they’re fighters?”

“Brad Emery is, or so he claimed. I’m not sure about the other one.” Her eyes narrowed. “You smell like strong perfume.”

“I do?” He lifted his arm and sniffed. “I don’t smell anything.” But he actually did. Caroline had been drowning in something sweet, and she’d done her best to cozy up to him.

No way in hell was Hart going to admit that she’d taken him by surprise with a lip-lock.

Lisa made a face. “You are such a fraud.”

“What did I do now?” Hell, he only wanted to get her alone, and naked and under him. Or over him. Didn’t matter to him. But most definitely, the lights would be blazing so he wouldn’t miss a single thing.

Her expression droll, Lisa turned to look out the window. “Did you mean what you said, Hart? That you would never lie to me?”

“Absolutely.” He reached for, and found, her hand. “I admit I have plenty of flaws, honey, but I’m not a liar.”

She looked at their linked hands. “So you meant it when you said you don’t want anyone else?”

This was important to her, he could tell. Maybe it was time to bite the bullet and ’fess up some. He went through a green light, turned the corner—all one-handed, because he didn’t want to lose the physical link with her—and slowed on the quieter side streets leading to her apartment.

“Spilling my guts here, but I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I do you.”

She scoffed . . . but looked interested.

“That one night together . . .” Hart whistled. “No matter how I tried to deny it, it was special. Enough so that it’s kept me thinking about you far too much. Even as distracted as I’ve been with the SBC and training and everything, whenever I was alone, and especially at night when I tried to sleep, I’d remember different things about you: how you felt and your scent, what we did and what I still wanted to do. You’ve kept me awake when I should have been too worn-out from training to think straight.”

She bit her lip. “If I hadn’t contacted you . . .”

“I would have eventually come calling.” Now that he’d admitted it to himself, Hart didn’t mind admitting it to her. “I fought it, but it was a losing battle. Hell, even when I thought you might be pregnant, I had really mixed feelings about it.”

Her eyes widened. “You wanted a baby?”

His shrug looked more cavalier than he felt. A baby that looked like him or Lisa, a little girl with her brown eyes and soft hair, or a rambunctious boy who liked to tussle.

No, the idea didn’t distress him as it should.

He fumbled for the right words. “It’s not that I’d plan one for right now. I mean, I’m starting a new career, and kids would really put a kink in things. But . . . eventually, yeah, of course I do.”

“Amazing.”

He glanced at her, unsure of her mood or her interpretation of things. “Well, you know what they say about the timing never being perfect. But I figure that no matter when they come, babies are always a blessing.” He squeezed her fingers. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m glad I still have some time, but a baby with you, at any time, would never feel like bad news.”

The illumination from the dashboard lights emphasized the shadows, and lit her face in a soft glow. She straightened her glasses, then peered at him with obvious confusion. “Why me, Hart? How am I different?”

He shrugged again, knowing this was important and hoping to say it right. “How I feel with you . . . being with you . . . it’s easier.”

Her brows went up.

“I enjoy talking with you.”

She stared. “So it’s my scintillating conversation you like most?”

Hart couldn’t help but grin at her look of disbelief. “When I’m around you, I always want you, Lisa. Don’t misunderstand that. But with you, I don’t resent the time that we’re not having sex.”

She bit back a smile. “I take it that you’ve spent a lot of time seducing?”

“Or being seduced.” He grinned at her. “Usually when I dated, it was with the endgame in mind.”

“Interesting.” She settled back and studied him. The time ticked by.

Finally, unable to take it, Hart asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that I believe you, that you do feel differently about me.”

Relief loosened his knotted muscles. “Good.”

“So then, since we do have something different going on, could you tell me why you failed to mention that Caroline kissed you?”

“Uh . . .” How did she know that?

Lisa shook her head. “Give it up, Hart. You have lipstick all over your mouth. If it didn’t mean anything, if you didn’t enjoy it, why didn’t you just ’fess up right away?”

Five

Hart Winston not only found her desirable, but he also enjoyed her company. Lisa couldn’t help but be thrilled, seeing as how she’d been secretly enamored of him forever. But she wouldn’t put too much stock in anything a man said while his hormones were in charge.

If Hart had been celibate as long as he’d claimed—which had to be a record for him—then he’d likely see things in a skewed way until he’d appeased his lust.

She was ready to help him with that. Oh, boy, was she ready.

She watched as Hart pulled into the parking lot, put the car in Park, turned on an interior light, and checked his face in the rearview mirror.

“Shit.” Using a sleeve, he scrubbed his mouth. “I’m sorry, Lisa. The woman grabbed me,” he explained while scrubbing, “and I wasn’t sure what to do, being she’s probably the one I’m supposed to meet so the idiots can carry out their plot. I mean, if I’d shoved her away, or turned my face, or maybe gagged on her, the jig would be up, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Lisa opened her door and got out. Like Hart would ever gag on a woman. He was so ridiculous, such a hedonist, how could she ever take him seriously when he spoke about his feelings?

Hart left the car, locking it with a click of the remote, and jogged to catch up with her. “What does ‘uh-huh’ mean?”

“It means I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me about it right off.” While walking along the path beneath a security light, she dug her keys out of her purse.

“I wasn’t sure you’d understand.”

They entered the building and headed for her apartment door. “Of course I understand. This is a delicate situation. You have to play along to expose the men who want to harm you. I wouldn’t expect you to risk that just because a woman was too forward.”

“So . . . it’s okay? You really don’t mind?”

He looked and sounded disgruntled, as if he’d wanted her to blast him with jealousy. Lisa shook her head as she unlocked her door. “I have no claim on you, Hart.”

He followed her in, closed the door, and crowded close to her. Only one small light shone in her kitchen, barely breaching the shadows. His expression looked harsh, too serious, his eyes glittering and his mouth tight.

With one hand, he smoothed her cheek. “I want you to.”

His look alone left her breathless, never mind the press of his hard body or the touch of his warm breath coming too fast. “What?”

“Have a claim.” He cupped the other side of her face. “On me.”

Lisa looked at his mouth, ready to agree to almost anything. Then she firmed her resolve. No, she would not commit herself. If, after they’d made love again, he still felt the same, then she’d discuss it with him. “Let’s go to bed.”

His eyes flared—and he moved away from her.

“Hart?”

A lamp came on, almost blinding her, and then the overhead kitchen light, and the hall light.

Was he racing to the bedroom without her? “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to make sure that lipstick is washed away.” Before he went into the bathroom, he looked back over his shoulder. “I’m not kissing you with another woman’s mark on me.”

“Oh.” So considerate. Well . . . sort of. “I appreciate that.” Truthfully, she hadn’t thought of it. But now that he’d mentioned it, yes, she did prefer that he remove all signs of that woman’s pursuit.

Water ran, and she heard Hart splashing, and then gargling. She smiled, dropped her purse and keys on the entry table, and headed for her bedroom. She was so anxious to have him again that she could barely contain her excitement.

She was seated on the side of the bed, removing her shoes, when Hart stepped into the room. He paused, looked at her, and then the lighted bedside lamp, and he smiled.

Coming to stand in front of her, he carefully lifted away her eyeglasses. He set them on the nightstand, and then bore her down on the bed so that she had to give up on the shoe and concentrate on his broad shoulders instead.

“I feel like a kid on Christmas morning,” he rumbled before kissing her jaw, her throat, up to her ear. Carefully, he eased his weight onto her, one hand on her cheek, the other braced over her head. “Let me unwrap my gifts myself, okay?”

Her heart raced, especially when he nibbled his way to her mouth, then treated her to a deep, damp, hot kiss. She wove her fingers into his silky hair and held on, so hungry for him that she didn’t care what he did, as long as he got on with it.

When he lifted his head and moved to the side of her, his hand now on her waist, Lisa said, “You’re not the only one who’s been celibate, Hart. So as much as I appreciate finesse, I’d just as soon get down to business.”

“You went without too?”

How could she really want any other man after having him? “I’m discriminating,” she said.

He was staring at her cleavage. “I’ll try to make it worth the wait.”

Her toes curled.

Then his hand settled over her breast, and she sucked in a breath.

Watching his hand as he cuddled her through the material of her dress and her demi bra, he said, “I love this dress. Talk about a tease, with all the buttons right there.” His dark eyes came up to clash with hers. “It was the same with that damned blouse you wore. The one with the tie at the throat.”

Lisa didn’t understand, but with his thumb circling her puckered nipple, she couldn’t even think.

“I kept imagining pulling that tie open.” He gave a low growl. “I love the idea of undressing you.”

Lisa closed her eyes to gather herself. “Okay. Then how about you get on with it?”

Grinning, Hart leaned down to kiss her mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”

But instead, he wedged his hand into the neckline of her dress and cupped her bare breast.

“Hart!”

“You feel so damn good.” He leaned down to kiss her again, smothering her protests. She reached for him, pulling him close, already on the edge of desperate need.

His tongue did wicked things with hers, and she accepted that he was an awesome kisser, the best she’d ever known. When he kissed his way down her throat to her chest, she abruptly realized that he’d been opening buttons and she hadn’t noticed.

He caught the edge of her bra cup, pulled it down, and then his hot mouth closed over her nipple.

She arched off the bed with a groan.

He pressed her back down, and spent far too long feasting on her, first on one nipple, then the other. She was frantic by the time he sat up beside her and finished unbuttoning her dress, then spread the material open.

At the sight of her thigh-high hose and small panties, his eyes narrowed.

“You are so fucking sexy . . .”

Coarse language had always been an irritant to her. Now, in that guttural, affected tone, it thrilled her.

Watching his face, Lisa reached for the front clasp of her bra and unhooked it. Her breasts felt tender, swollen, from all his attention. She needed no more encouragement.

But when she started to sit up, he flattened a hand over her belly. “Let me.”

He took his time stripping off her shoes and rolling down her nylons. After slipping an arm behind her shoulders, he lifted her up only long enough to remove the dress and bra, and ease them out from under her. Left only in her panties, she waited for him.

His hand cupped over her sex. He bent to kiss her belly, her hip bones.

“Hart, that’s enough.” She was trembling, so hot. She needed him. Now.

“Not even close.”

“Yes.” Tangling her fingers in his hair, she tugged him up. “I want to see you, too, remember?”

His smile was slow and wicked. “Do you need your glasses?”

“Not if you back up a little.”

Standing at the side of the bed, he took two steps back, then yanked off his shirt and tossed it aside. He removed his wallet, fished out two condoms, and put them on the bedside table. Sitting again, he bent to remove his shoes and socks.

Even with her vision a little blurry, he looked too good to resist. Lisa sat up and hugged her breasts against his gorgeous, solid back. That felt so good, she came to her knees and ran her hands over him. Hart sort of froze, going very still and quiet.

She kissed his ear, breathed in the delicious hot scent of his skin, and explored all those incredible muscles in his shoulders, his biceps, and over to his chest.

He caught her hands. “Okay, woman. I get the point. Let me lose the jeans, and we’re in business.”

Sitting back on the bed, Lisa laughed. It was a husky, excited laugh. She watched as Hart turned to face her, opened his jeans, and pushed them—with his boxers—down to the floor. He kicked free and stepped over to the mattress.

Doing a long, slow inhale, Lisa took in the exquisite sight of him. “A man couldn’t be more beautiful.”

He caught her panties and dragged them down her legs. “I don’t know about beautiful, but I’m so hard, I’m about to explode.”

While looking at her reclining body, he grabbed for a condom, opened the package, and rolled the condom on.

Lisa held her arms out to him. It didn’t matter that she was crossways on the bed. It didn’t matter that she wanted to touch him, explore him more. For now, she needed him.

He was so tall that once he stretched out over her again, his legs were hanging over the side. To accommodate the position, Hart pulled her to the edge of the mattress and pushed her knees back.

Being so exposed left Lisa both shy and turned on. Her breath caught, and then she felt him against her. His big hands held her knees, pushed them farther back, and all the while he watched as his erection slowly pressed into her. It was erotic, and exciting.

Watching his face, Lisa saw the way heat colored his high cheekbones, how his eyes darkened and his nostrils flared. Muscles flexed and clenched in his chest and shoulders—and then he closed his eyes with a groan and sank into her.

Her breath caught. It felt so right to be like this with him, so perfect.

He levered down over her, saying, “Put your legs around my waist.”

And then they were moving together, both of them fevered, kissing, touching, the sensations escalating too fast.

Lisa freed her mouth to cry out. He pressed his face into her throat and strained against her. Arching up, squeezing him with her legs, she held him as tight as she could—and then the most astounding climax rolled through her.

Vaguely, she heard Hart coming, too, his groan raw and deep, his mouth opened on her neck.

Minutes passed, and she continued to regain her breath with Hart’s weight comfortably over her. Finally, he struggled up to his elbows and looked down at her. “Not bad. For starters.”

She giggled, and then the giggles spread and she was laughing aloud.

He cocked a brow, but when she continued, he rubbed his nose against her temple, her heated shoulder. “I want to eat you up, woman,” he whispered, and her giggles died a fast death.

For the next two hours he was relentless, saving, he said, the other condom by making her come twice again before joining with her.

Lisa had never known so much sexual indulgence, but she’d have no qualms in quickly getting familiar. With Hart.

And only with Hart.

It was after two in the morning when he pulled her around in the bed so that her head rested on a pillow. Like a true gentleman, he tucked her in, and even pressed a kiss to her forehead.

When he started to move away, she said, “No, you don’t, Skippy. No sneaking away this time.”

He leaned over her, touching her hair, kissing the bridge of her nose. “Actually, I was hoping you wouldn’t kick me out. Can I assume you want me to stay?”

She was so exhausted, she said only, “Please.”

“Be right back.” After another quick kiss, he turned out the lights in the apartment, and then slid under the covers with her.

Lisa turned to curl into his side, and it was, by far, the most comfortable position she’d ever found herself in.

She could surely get used to this.

Could he?

When Lisa finally stirred awake, Hart sat up, ready to tackle the awkwardness of what the day would bring.

Lying on her stomach, her face smooshed into her pillow, she opened her eyes and looked at him. For several seconds she tried to focus, and then, with a jolt, she sat up and reached over him for her glasses.

Enjoying that, Hart kept her close and settled her into his side. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

Chin tucked in, she mumbled, “Morning.”

Yep, Hart thought. Awkward. “So,” he said, trying to sound cavalier, “how late do you work today?”

“I have late appointments today, so I won’t get back here until around seven.”

“Damn. And I have to meet Caroline at eight.” He felt her stiffen, but didn’t let her withdraw. “I know it’ll be damned inconvenient, but can I see you afterward?”

She straight-armed him so suddenly that Hart lost his hold on her.

Tangled brown hair spilled over her shoulders. She had a crease on her cheek from the pillowcase. And her sleepy eyes looked extra soft behind the lenses of her glasses.

Damn, but he loved her. Every frigging thing about her, even her glasses.

“Only you, Hart Winston, would ask to come to one woman after being with another.” She started to scramble off the bed, intent on taking the sheet with her, but he toppled her face-first into the mattress before she got far.

She wrestled with him, but she didn’t have a chance. Laughing, Hart pinned her arms above her head and looked down at her straining shoulders, her slender back.

“I could take you like this,” he whispered, pressing himself against her plump bottom. “We’d both love it.”

“Hart . . .” she warned.

“I’m not going to be with Caroline. I’m going to meet her at that shabby parking lot, let the goons attack, and then hopefully see her arrested with her two friends.”

Lisa said, “Get off of me.”

Instead, he kissed a delicate trail from her nape to her shoulder—and felt her shudder. “Tell me you trust me.” He nuzzled her ear. “Tell me you know I don’t want any other woman, not when I can have you.”

He lifted up and turned her under him. She didn’t fight him, but she did have to straighten her glasses. And then her expression was so serious, so intent, he grinned.

“Tell me that you know we have something very special going on.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “Define ‘special.’ ”

One thing about Lisa—she’d never make it easy on him. “Special, as in I want to see more of you. A lot more. Tonight, and tomorrow night, and the night after that.”

She said, “And the night after that?”

Damn, what did she want from him, a marriage proposal? Surprisingly, that thought didn’t entirely throw him. But for now, he settled on a more diplomatic reply, saying, “For as long as we’re both enjoying ourselves.”

She touched her fingertips to his chest hair, as if in deep thought. “So . . . in that time, you won’t be with anyone else?”

“Other than Caroline tonight.” He stroked a hand down her side to her hip. “Hell, Lisa, like I told you, I don’t want anyone else.”

Pulling him down for a kiss, she said, “Okay.”

Hart reared back. “Okay? What does that mean?”

She pushed her way out from under him, and left the bed. The sheet stayed behind. “It means that I have to go get ready for the office, but there’s a spare key in a basket on top of the refrigerator. Feel free to grab it.”

Now that sounded promising. He gazed at her body, cleared his throat, and asked, “How much time do you have before you need to leave?”

“Forget it, Skippy. I’m already running late, and besides, you’re out of condoms.”

As she sashayed off for the bathroom, Hart let out a low whistle. Tonight he’d buy an entire box of condoms. And now that she’d promised him a key, he felt like he’d made great headway.

Toward what, exactly, he couldn’t say. It was incredible that his career was at risk because a woman wanted to set him up so that men could maim him.

Yet all he really cared about was understanding Lisa. He imagined his brother and Joe would get a real kick out of that.

Six

Thick humidity hung in the air, laying an eerie mist over everything. Fat clouds obscured the sliver of moon, and a steady drizzle fell from the night sky, raising noxious steam from summer-scorched blacktop. In this area of town, debris littered the sidewalks and stuffed every brick-and-mortar corner.

Hart looked at the ramshackle drugstore where Caroline said she worked. The place looked like it had been out of business for a decade, with tape on the windows, peeling paint on the clapboard siding, and shingles missing from the roof.

Despite the signs of neglect, a light shone inside. The parking lot behind the building butted up to the concrete- block side of a drive-through pony keg. Broken beer bottles were hazardous to car tires.

Lack of security lights made it hazardous to him.

But Hart wasn’t worried. The only thing he felt was an impatience to get this over with, so he could return to Lisa.

Somewhere nearby, Joe had secured himself, unseen but available. He had Dex with him, and Drew Black, having been informed of the plan, awaited an update. Drew had promised that if Brad was stupid enough to use underhanded tactics to win, he’d be booted from the organization.

Hart believed him.

As he pulled around to the back of the building, avoiding the broken glass as best he could, he wondered . . . what Lisa was doing right then. Was she worrying about him? Jealous that he’d be meeting Caroline, even if only to use her to get to the men? Or had she put him from her mind?

Seeing no one in the dark, treacherous lot, he parked his car and turned off the ignition. The plan was for him to linger there until the men launched their surprise attack.

Since Hart knew about it, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, though, which changed the odds in his favor.

The sooner he got through with this, the sooner he could sort through his relationship with Lisa, so he turned up the collar of his Windbreaker and got out of the car. The slamming of the door echoed through the hushed lot.

Hart waited, his senses heightened, but nothing happened. No one approached. He heard nothing but the drip of water from the drugstore’s gutter and the song of crickets enjoying the weather.

After pocketing his keys, he walked toward the back of the drugstore.

The door opened before he reached it, and Caroline stepped out under a rusty overhang. “You made it,” she called out, opening a big umbrella.

Hart plastered on his most charming smile. “Am I early?”

“Nope. Just on time.” Caroline strode out to him, but she looked nervous, her gaze darting this way and that.

She wore snug-fitting jeans, wedge sandals, and a frilly blouse. If he wasn’t so strung out on Lisa, he might have appreciated the picture she made, with her hair loose and curling, her lips all shiny.

Hart took her arm and turned her toward his car. As he did so, he scanned the area, but saw no one. Damn it, he wanted this over and done with. Tonight.

“So where are we going?” he asked, trying to sound natural.

She gave him a coy look. “Your place would be fine.”

If she wanted to play it that way, he could go along with her. “Right to it, huh? You don’t need to be wined and dined first?”

“With you, no.” She sounded wistful, as if she actually wished they could get together.

Not in this lifetime. Hart opened the passenger door and waited. She turned, stared at him for a moment, then leaned up and kissed him silly.

Her lips were soft and warm, her tongue bold. With one hand she held her umbrella, and with the other she stroked his chest. She let out a small sound of yearning . . . but she left Hart utterly unaffected.

All he could think about was how Lisa would feel if she knew he was kissing someone else.

She wouldn’t like it; that was for sure. But damn it, he had a role to play, so while keeping his eyes barely open, he listened hard for sounds of attack—and let her have her way with him.

Finally, without his participation to spur her on, she released him and sighed. “You really are so damn gorgeous.”

Hart almost laughed—but then, for only a flash of a second, Caroline looked beyond him, and Hart knew. He spun around in time to find a masked man skulking from the drugstore—and damned if he didn’t carry a ball bat!

With Hart looking right at him, the guy froze for a second, as if stunned to be caught. Then he gave a battle yell and ran toward Hart with the bat in the air.

Hart stepped away from his car and waited. He didn’t run toward the guy, didn’t make a sound. He just prepared.

The dude’s momentum threw him off balance with the first swing of the bat, making it easy for Hart to dodge the blow and deliver a gut-squelching punch to his unprepared midsection.

Wind left his assailant in a whoosh, and he bent double.

Hart didn’t need much more time than that. He brought his elbow down hard on the man’s back, then his knee up into his face, and the idiot collapsed, his bat clattering on the blacktop. His groans were faint and filled with pain.

“Oh, no, you don’t.”

Hart heard Joe’s voice and looked around in time to see his cousin snatch a tire iron out of another man’s hand. Before the guy could recover, Joe pulled off his ski mask, and revealed Brad Emery, the fighter. The jerk on the ground had to be his cohort.

Once Brad was relieved of the weapon, Joe gave him a shove toward Hart and said, “Now see how you fare.”

Hart grinned. It figured that Joe would enjoy this.

Gesturing for the man to attack, Hart waited. This guy was a little smarter, taking his time, circling Hart.

Tiring of that game real fast, Hart said, “Chicken shit, are you going to do this, or what?”

“You’re a fucking punk, Winston, you know that?”

“I know I’ll kick your ass. I know you know I’ll kick your ass, and that’s why you’re trying this cowardly bullshit. You’re afraid to meet me on the mat, man to man. You know I’d annihilate you—with ease.”

That did it. Lacking a fighter’s finesse, Brad launched himself at Hart, and they both went down onto the wet pavement.

Shit. Fighting on a padded mat was much easier than on the broken blacktop. But Hart, with a background of wrestling skills, and despite having smacked his head hard, twisted until he had the mount, then pounded Brad in the jaw.

His head snapped back, but Brad didn’t stop fighting. He cursed and wrestled until Hart slugged him again, breaking his nose, then again, stunning him with a shot to the jaw.

Joe pulled Hart away. “Ease up, Skippy. The cops are on the way.”

Hart shot a look at Joe. Catching his breath, he said, “I hope that damned name isn’t catching on.”

Trying to protect his head, Brad groaned and turtled up.

“I think Skippy sort of suits you.” Grinning, Joe hauled Hart upright.

“How so?”

“Skipping out on women? I think that’s where Lisa got it.”

Well, hell. Hart scowled, but suddenly the first man started to scramble. Joe said, “Let me. Please.”

Joe snagged the fellow from the back, saying, “Uh-uh, bud. Not so fast.” A brief struggle ensued, but Joe had no problem subduing him. When he was held in a headlock, Joe removed his mask, revealing Tyler Stevens, the same man they’d seen in the bar.

Adrenaline still rushed through Hart. He swiped a forearm over his face, realized his Windbreaker was ripped, and took it off to toss it toward his car. Caroline still sat there, wide-eyed and distressed, watching him.

He could almost feel sorry for her, except that she’d helped to set this up.

Dex walked up with a video camera. “Good job, Hart,” he said without faltering in his recording. “I got it all.”

Caroline started to wail.

“What do we do with her?” Hart asked.

Lisa stepped out from behind Dex. She wore a trench coat tied at the waist and with the collar up, and held a matching umbrella over her head.

“You definitely don’t let her go, or show her any sympathy, Hart Winston. Not if you know what’s good for you.”

Rain dripped down Hart’s back and off the end of his nose, and all he could do was stare. “Lisa?”

Dex shrugged. “She insisted on coming along. Even crouched in the mud with me without complaining.”

Hart looked at her feet and saw mud staining her boots and the bottom of her jeans, almost to her knees. She twirled the umbrella as if the wet conditions didn’t bother her at all. Her gaze took in everything with fascination.

“I didn’t expect you to be here.” In fact, Hart could barely believe it. Why wasn’t she at her apartment, warm and dry?

“I didn’t want to miss anything.” After scowling at Caroline, she smiled at Hart. “You looked incredible.”

Pride swelled inside him. He always enjoyed the applause of the crowd, but praise from Lisa meant so much more.

“You’re okay?” She looked him over, saw he was soaked, and shook her head. “You hit the ground really hard.”

“I’m fine.” Hell, he was better than fine. Lisa had come to him out of concern. That had to mean something, right? Then it occurred to him . . . had she seen Caroline kissing him again?

A police car screeched onto the scene. Dragging Tyler along, Joe greeted the officers, and to Hart it appeared he knew the men, or at least had already introduced himself.

Dex showed them some footage, and the cops wasted no time putting the men—and Caroline—in handcuffs.

Knowing his window of opportunity was limited, Hart moved closer to Lisa. “How long have you been here?”

With one disgusted look at Caroline, she said, “Long enough to know that you have deplorable taste in women.”

“Not true.” Looping his hands around her neck, he kissed her nose and hoped some blunt honesty would win her over. “I fell for you, didn’t I?”

She froze for a heartbeat. Through the rain-sprinkled lenses of her glasses, her eyes widened. “You did?”

He couldn’t blame her for being surprised. Until tonight, when he’d spent more time thinking of her than of the task at hand, he hadn’t fully understood either.

Joe and Dex had known, though, the buttheads. “Oh, yeah, I did. Big time.”

“Oh.” She smiled and, without reciprocating, collected herself. “I suppose now the police are here, you’ll have to answer questions and all that?”

Had he spooked her with that declaration? Damn it, didn’t she feel the same? Floundering, Hart frowned at her. She’d once accused him of being insecure. Well, screw that. Tonight, when he had her alone, he’d find out exactly how she felt.

“The cops will want to talk to me, yeah. And I need to call Drew.”

Holding the umbrella over his head, she touched his chest. “When I saw it was raining, I grabbed you a dry shirt. It’s in Dex’s car.”

So thoughtful. “Thanks.”

She bit her lip. “Do you think they’ll mind if I come along?”

Tugging her closer, Hart borrowed her warmth, inhaled her scent. “It might take a while. Wouldn’t you rather go home and get comfortable?”

She shook her head as she reached for his mouth, using her thumb to swipe over his bottom lip. When Hart realized she was wiping away Caroline’s lipstick—again—he groaned. Until Lisa said, “I’d rather be with you, Hart.” Her gaze met his. “Always.”

As far as declarations went, that one nearly took him to his knees.

It was damn near midnight before they returned to Lisa’s apartment. Hart should have been exhausted, but instead . . . he was anxious.

He wanted things cemented between them. And he wanted to make love to her, right now. All night.

She dropped her purse, stripped off her raincoat, and hung it on a coat tree, then set aside her dirty boots. Rolling her neck, stretching her arms, she said, “God, I’m beat. And I have to be at the office early tomorrow.”

Hart crossed his arms and faced off with her. She’d said she wanted to be with him, so she could damn well start right now. “I hope you’re not hinting that I should head back to my place, because I’m not budging.”

Expression enigmatic, she moved to him and started working on his shirt. “Actually, after knowing how close you came to be being hurt—”

“It was never close, damn it.” And that wasn’t bragging, just plain truth.

“I mean, if you hadn’t known about the attack.” She peeled his shirt away, and her hands dropped to his waistband.

Hart liked to think he would have fared just fine regardless, but part of that was the invincible attitude he’d always had, an attitude that made him a daring athlete—and a good fighter.

Without looking at him, she said, “I’d like you to stay with me.”

Hart smoothed back her damp hair. “Tonight?”

She nodded.

“And tomorrow night? And the night after?”

She raised a brow. “You’re rushing things.”

“I’ll be going out of town soon, remember? Training, and then fighting.” But Brad Emery would no longer be part of the competition. He not only faced criminal charges that would keep him busy in court, but he’d also worn out his welcome with the SBC. Brad’s fighting days, at least in the best organizations, were over.

Rather than discuss his trip, she said, “We need a shower.”

Well . . . yeah. That’d work. But damn it, he had important things to discuss with her. Before she could leave him, Hart caught her hand and swung her around. “I won’t let you distract me with sex.”

“Oh, really?”

Hart looked at her big dark eyes, at the challenge there, and gave up. “You aren’t going to make this easy on me, are you?”

“Tell you what, Skippy.” She smiled and draped her arms around his neck. “Define fallen for me, and maybe it’ll get easier.”

He had no idea what she was talking about.

Rolling her eyes, Lisa explained, “You said you’d fallen for me.”

“Big-time,” he confirmed.

“So explain fallen.”

She wanted the words? Words he’d given only to family, words never spoken in the romantic sense?

Hart found that it wasn’t nearly as difficult as he’d always suspected. “I love you.”

She was so startled, her glasses slipped down her nose. “You do?”

Grinning, feeling like a million bucks, he picked her up and swung her around. “Yeah, I love you.” And he stressed again, “Big-time.”

Her bottom lip quivered. “Oh Hart, I . . .”

Tears? He winced, waiting.

“I’ve loved you for so long.”

His tension lifted. “No shit?”

Nodding, she said, “No shit.”

Her easy admission thrilled him. “That’s great. So . . . we can move in together?”

“Yes.” She threw herself against him. “And I want to be there when you fight. Is that okay?”

“On one condition.” Hart headed for the shower. He kissed her, and then kissed her again.

Lisa pushed him back. “What’s the condition?”

“Stop calling me Skippy.”

Apologetic, she asked, “It really does offend you?”

Hell, yes, it did. “Joe told me why you say it, but it no longer fits.” He stood her in the bathroom, wrapped her in his arms, and smiled down at her. “Because from now on, Lisa, I promise I’m staying put.”