ach knocked on her apartment door promptly at seven o'clock. Apparently that was another thing they had in common—they were both punctual people.

In concession to the hundred-degree heat, typical for this time of year, Elizabeth wore an apricot sundress with a slim skirt, wide straps and a wide, matching belt, along with a pair of white, high-heeled, open-toed sandals. As she pulled the brush one more time through her shoulder-length, dark auburn hair, she told herself the extra care she had taken with her appearance had nothing to do with Zachary Harcourt.

"Looks like you're ready," he said from her doorstep, looking cool and attractive in a short-sleeved pale blue shirt and lightweight tan slacks. His gaze went over her from head to foot, the gold in his eyes heating up in a slightly different way than it had before.

She assessed that look. "Depends on what I'm getting ready for."

Zach laughed. "Not much more than dinner, I don't imagine."

Reaching down, she plucked her white leather bag off the coffee table, slung the gold chain over her shoulder and started for the door.

"Nice car," she said as they reached the end of the sidewalk, admiring the flashy black BMW convertible pulled up at the curb.

"Thought I'd drive this instead of the Jeep, since I'm trying to impress you. Is it working?" He held open the passenger door and she slid into the black leather seat, which was still cool from the air-conditioning.

"I like nice cars, so yes. Especially since you were wise enough to leave the top up."

"I wanted to impress you, not fry you alive." Zach closed her door, rounded the car and slid in behind the wheel.

"So how many cars do you have?" she asked as the engine roared to life.

"Just two. I've got a Harley, though, and I just bought a thirty-foot sailboat."

One of her eyebrows arched. "Well, you know what they say—the difference between men and boys is the price of their toys."

"Ouch."

They drove along the two-lane highway toward Mason, a slightly bigger farming town thirty miles away. He glanced over at her. "I like the things money can buy, I freely admit it. But I'm not driven to own them like some people are."

She thought about the money he'd donated to Teen Vision and figured maybe that was true. He could have bought a lot more toys if he had kept the money for himself.

"I like nice things, too," she agreed, "but not enough to sacrifice my happiness for them."

For several seconds, he looked her way. "You're talking about your marriage."

"Brian always wanted the best. Expensive cars, designer clothes. He wanted me to have them, too. He was generous that way, though I think he was mostly motivated by the image he wanted to project."

"What happened?"

"I wasn't enough for him. It's as simple as that." She gazed out the window, her mind shifting to the past. "Three years ago, we came up to San Pico for my class reunion. I caught him, as you lawyers would say, in flagrante delicto in the backseat of our car with Lisa Doyle."

Zach's jaw tightened. "No wonder you freaked out when Carson mentioned her name."

"I probably shouldn't have told you. But you can see why she isn't my favorite person. Not that it was entirely her fault."

"Lisa's all for Lisa. She makes no secret about it."

"But you apparently enjoyed her company."

"I enjoyed the sex. We used each other. That's about all there was to it."

All there was to it? She couldn't imagine using a man for sex, as Lisa apparently had. "So why did you end it?"

"Because I was tired of feeling nothing. I taught myself that, to go through life feeling nothing, letting nothing in. For a while, Lisa was my perfect woman. We saw each other and anyone else we felt like. There were no strings attached. There was also nothing there when I woke up next to her in the morning."

Elizabeth said nothing more. She liked that he was being so honest, or at least seemed to be. The old Zach would have rattled off some phony line then laughed when she ignored it.

They reached the town of Mason, the county seat of San Pico County. It was just another valley town only bigger, with a Target and a Wal-Mart, and a few more restaurants.

Zach pulled into the parking lot of a place called The Captain's Table. According to the sign, the restaurant specialized in seafood, which she had learned never to order in the valley because it was so hot and the fish came from too far away.

They went in and got settled in a nice private booth. For an instant his gaze touched her face and the gold in his dark eyes seemed to glitter. Zach looked away.

"I've never been here, have you?"

She shook her head. "I don't come to Mason very often." But it looked as if the restaurant had been there a while, the red leather booths a little worn, the carpet a little faded. Still, the red glass candles glowing in the middle of the table gave it a nice kind of old-fashioned intimacy.

They made easy conversation until the waitress finished taking their order, then Zach turned the discussion in the direction she was there for.

"All right, you came out with me tonight so we could talk about the Santiago house. But I have to warn you in advance, I'm not sure I can help."

Hoping he could, she told him in detail about the eerie night she had spent in the house. "It was really frightening, Zach. The strange noises, the cold, that god-awful heavy rose smell. It got so bad, I almost couldn't breathe. It happened to Maria, too. It scared us both, I can tell you. I can't imagine what could cause those kinds of things to happen."

"To tell you the truth, neither can I. On the phone you mentioned getting someone out there to look at the place. I gather you think they might find some rational explanation?"

"Surely there is one. I don't believe in ghosts."

"I don't, either. Except for ghosts from our past, of course. Those always seem to haunt us."

She cast him a sideways glance. "You aren't talking about that day at Marge's, are you?"

He smiled. "Not really. But as long as it's taken to get you to go out with me, I could be."

Her lips lightly curved. "This isn't really a date. We're here to talk business."

"Oh, that's right. For a minute there, I forgot."

Elizabeth fought a smile then fiddled with the red cloth napkin in her lap. She looked up at him, found him watching her with those unusual golden brown eyes. "Does your past haunt you, Zach?"

He gazed off toward the window, but the red velvet curtains were closed, blocking the last glow of twilight.

"I suppose in a way it does. I lived in the fanciest house in San Pico, but my life was hell. I wasn't welcome there. No matter what my father demanded of my mother and brother, they hated me from the moment they found out I existed. My father couldn't change that. Carson and Constance did everything in their power to make my life miserable, and my father was rarely home to do anything about it."

"No wonder you got into trouble." She remembered it well, the trial in the summer after her senior year, the sentence Zachary Harcourt received for vehicular assault and negligent homicide. It had been the talk of the tiny town for weeks.

Zach's mouth edged up and a little shimmer of awareness went through her. God, he had the sexiest mouth.

"I can't really blame what happened on my parents. It was pure stupidity on my part. I guess I wanted my father's attention. But the worse I behaved, the less I saw of him. We didn't get to be friends until I got out of prison. He was there for me then. As far as I'm concerned, none of the rest of it matters."

"We all make mistakes, I suppose. We just do the best we can."

"That's what I tell the kids at Teen Vision. We all make mistakes. The trick is to figure out what you're doing wrong and stop doing it. Turn your life in a different direction."

Their food arrived, prime rib for Elizabeth, lobster for Zach, and they relaxed and enjoyed their meals. Well, relaxed wasn't exactly the word. She was too aware of him to actually relax. Instead, she found herself watching him, noticing things about him, the long, tapered fingers, the graceful way he moved, how easily he smiled. She couldn't remember ever being so conscious of a man.

And he was interesting, she discovered, well-read, and a good listener. She was attracted to him even more than she had feared.

Which meant he was trouble, plain and simple.

She didn't want to like Zach Harcourt. She knew too much about his past to trust him. After Brian, she didn't trust any man, not completely.

At least, not enough to let down her guard.

Still, by the end of the evening, she felt easier in his company, a little less tense but no less aware of him. They were on the road, heading back to her apartment by the time she got around to the subject they had left unfinished in the restaurant.

"So what do you think about the house? Will you give me your approval for someone to come in and inspect it?"

"I would if I could. But my brother controls the farm. He has since my father's accident. As the oldest son, Carson was named conservator of the estate in my father's will. He's in charge of the ranch and my father's medical care."

"So Carson has complete control. You're an attorney. Why didn't you go to court, make him give you some kind of say?"

"Because I don't give a damn about the farm and never have. Carson can shove the place as far as I'm concerned. I do worry about my father, though. My brother and I never seem to see eye to eye on Dad's health care."

Elizabeth settled deeper into the car seat. Outside the window, rows and rows of cotton rolled by, the white, open bolls of fiber the only thing visible in the darkness.

"I'll tell you what I'll do," Zach said. "You call someone to come out and look at the house. If Carson finds out, you can tell him I said it was okay." He grinned, a flash of white as bright as the cotton bolls out in the fields. "Nothing I like better than pissing him off, anyway."

Elizabeth straightened in her seat, wondering if Carson were right and goading his brother was the reason Zach had been pursuing her. "That's probably not a good idea."

"Where Carson's concerned, nothing is ever a good idea, but, hey—you want to know what's going on in the house, don't you? Well, this is the way to find out."

It wasn't exactly on the up-and-up, but then this was Zachary Harcourt talking. He might have changed in some ways but it was obvious he was still a little reckless. She found herself smiling. In a way, she was glad he hadn't changed completely.

He cast her a sideways glance. "What are you smiling about?"

Her cheeks went hot. She hoped he couldn't see them in the darkness inside the car. "Nothing. I was just…I was thinking you were right. I promised to help Maria. And if you're willing to take the blame—hey, that's okay with me."

He grinned. He did that a lot, she noticed, and it looked really good on him. "That's my girl."

"First thing Monday, I'll call and make the arrangements."

"Like I said, it's not that big a deal. Odds are Carson will never have a clue."

Zach drove through town, rounded the corner onto Cherry Street, and pulled his sporty black convertible up to the curb. He walked her up to the door of her apartment and she wondered if he would expect a good-night kiss.

"Thanks, Zach. I really appreciate what you're doing."

He tipped his head toward the door. "Aren't you going to invite me in for a drink?"

"I thought you said you didn't drink."

"I said I don't drink much. And never when I'm driving. Besides, I was thinking of a cup of coffee."

She knew she shouldn't. But it was Friday night and she rarely went out and so far Zach had been a perfect gentleman.

A thought she found oddly annoying.

She doubted Zach would behave this way with Lisa Doyle. Apparently, she didn't have as much sex appeal as Lisa had.

"All right, come on in. I'll make us a pot of decaf. That way we'll be able to sleep."

Zach's eyes found hers and her breath caught. There was nothing gentlemanly in the hot look he gave her. It was blatantly sexual, almost scorching. Sleep, it said, was the last thing on his mind.

Her stomach contracted. Now that they were there in her apartment, their business concluded, his manner seemed to have changed.

She swallowed. As she thought back over the evening, she had noticed that same look several times, but his gaze had quickly been shuttered and she figured she had imagined it.

"Decaf sounds good," he said, his eyes still on her face.

Turning away, she went into the kitchen. She was surprised when Zach followed.

"Nice place." He looked around at the bare tile countertops, just a toaster and a can opener; the small round wooden table with nothing but salt and pepper shakers in the middle.

"Nice and clean, you mean." She pulled a can of decaf down from the cupboard. "I keep meaning to decorate the place, but I can't seem to get my mind wrapped around the fact I'm back here in San Pico. When I was in high school, all I ever thought about was leaving."

"Why'd you come back?" He was standing right behind her, so close she could feel his breath against the nape of her neck. Her nerves kicked in. As she reached for the bag of coffee, she tried to keep her hand from shaking.

"I needed a place to recover from my divorce. My dad was here, my sister. Now Dad's gone and my sister's moved away. If it weren't for my job, I don't think I'd still be here."

He moved a little closer. "I'm glad you are."

The air snagged in her lungs. He settled both hands on her hips and slowly turned her to face him.

"What…what are you doing?"

"What I've been wanting to do all evening—getting ready to kiss you. I just hope you don't slap me as hard as you did that day outside Marge's."

She looked up at him, saw the heat in his eyes he no longer tried to hide. For the first time, it occurred to her that she had been wanting him to look at her that way all evening. "I won't slap you."

"Thank God," he said an instant before he bent his head and kissed her thoroughly.

It was an incredible kiss, his mouth like hot, damp silk. It burned across her lips, taking and taking, making her catch fire along with him. She could feel his heat, his hunger. She knew now it had been there all along.

Zach kissed her and kissed her, deep, penetrating kisses, hot, drugging kisses that made her insides turn to mush and her knees wobble. He backed her up against the table, trapping her as if he thought she might try to escape, and kissed her some more. Elizabeth looped her arms around his neck and slid the tips of her fingers into his thick dark hair.

His tongue was in her mouth and she could taste the maleness of him. No man had ever kissed her this way, as if he couldn't get enough, as if he needed to kiss her as much as he needed to breathe. Her nipples tightened, throbbed inside the cups of her white lace push-up bra.

"You drive me crazy," he said against the side of her neck. "I can't stop thinking about you." Her head fell back and he began to rain kisses along her throat and over her shoulders.

"This is insane," she whispered, but she was talking to herself and not to Zach.

She felt his hands on her breasts, cupping them over the fabric, gently kneading. "I want to make love to you. There's nothing insane about that."

She shook her head, knew she should pull away. But she wanted to feel the heat, the fire, just for a few minutes more. She tried not to think of Lisa Doyle, of the women he had in L.A. She tried not to remember what Carson had said, I can't believe you're letting Zach use you this way.

She heard the buzz of her zipper, felt his hands slide inside her bra to cup her breasts. Desire roared through her. Heat tugged low in her belly, speared out through her limbs. She had to stop him. This was happening way too fast. She wasn't Lisa Doyle. She didn't do one-night stands.

He nibbled the lobe of an ear. "God, you taste so good."

She swallowed, tried to move away, but his fingers were tugging on her nipple, his hands testing the size and shape of her breasts, making them swell into his palms.

She hadn't been with anyone since Brian. It was only natural, she told herself, to be excited by the touch of a man.

But this wasn't just any man, this was Zachary Harcourt and she didn't trust him. Couldn't afford to trust him.

He unfastened her belt and tossed it away, buzzed the zipper the rest of the way down over her hips. He started to slide the dress off her shoulders, but Elizabeth caught his hand.

"I can't do this."

He kissed the side of her neck. "Why not? We're both adults. We can do whatever we please."

She stepped a little away, took a deep breath and looked him straight in the face. "Carson says…he says you're just using me to get to him."

Zach's jaw hardened. He caught her hand, pressed it against his erection. He was big and hard. He thickened even more at her touch. "Carson has nothing to do with this."

"I'm not like Lisa."

"No, you were never like Lisa."

"Zach, please."

There must have been something in her tone, something that made him understand that she was fighting not just him but herself.

With a sigh, he reached behind her and zipped up her dress. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rush you. It's just…"

Her hands trembled as she adjusted her clothes. "Just what?"

"I've wanted you from the moment I saw you that day at Teen Vision. I've made myself go slow. I wanted to give you a chance to get to know me. I've tried to be patient, Liz. I'm not a patient man."

She fumbled for something to say, her heart racing madly. "No one calls me Liz anymore."

"Why not?"

"Brian didn't like it. He thought Elizabeth sounded more sophisticated."

He leaned down and very softly kissed her. "They're just names for different facets of the same person. I think Liz is your sensual side." He kissed her softly and she trembled. "You haven't done this a lot, have you?"

She shook her head. "I had a boyfriend before Brian. That's all."

"And since then?"

She looked away. "I don't think I can handle a man like you, Zach. You've been with dozens of women. I don't have that kind of experience."

He caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You said you weren't like Lisa and you're right. But a real woman doesn't need to use sexual tricks to satisfy a man. I'm hotter for you right now than I was when I was inside Lisa Doyle."

She flushed. Zach was a virile, sensual man and he made no bones about it.

"Besides, I could teach you those things. Whatever you want to learn. We could do anything you can imagine."

Her stomach clenched. Anything you can imagine. She had never thought of herself as a sexual woman and yet those words made a soft ache throb deep in her womb. "I—I need to think about this, Zach. You and I, we're different people—especially when it comes to sex. I—I'm just not that brave."

He dragged her against him and started to kiss her again, his tongue sliding deep inside her mouth. Her body tightened, trembled. His hand found the hem of her skirt and he shoved it up till it rode at her waist. He palmed her sex over her white lace panties. She was wet. And she was hot. She couldn't remember ever being so hot.

"I think you're brave enough," Zach said, sliding his hand inside her panties. "You just don't know it."

She gasped as he caressed her, stroked her, caught her moan in his mouth. She was on the edge of climax when he stopped kissing her and pulled his hand away, eased her skirt back into place. He stepped back a little, leaving her trembling with desire, aching to have him inside her.

"I want you, Liz. I'm crazy to have you. But not for any other reason except that I'm attracted to you in a way I haven't been to a woman in years. I want to see you again tomorrow night."

She wildly shook her head.

"All right. Next week then. I'll give you some time, if that's what you need."

"I…I don't know, Zach."

"Yes, you do, Liz. You know what you need and so do I. I'll see you next week." Turning away from her, he walked out of the kitchen, crossed the living room, and pulled open the door.

At the echo of it closing behind him, Elizabeth sank down in one of the kitchen chairs. As a game player, she was certainly no match for Zachary Harcourt.

Then again, maybe he wasn't playing a game. Maybe he wanted exactly what he said. Maybe he just wanted her.

Her body pulsed at the heady thought.

It was insane, of course, and yet, why shouldn't she consider it? Zach said he wanted her. After tonight, it was clear how much she wanted him. She had always been careful where men were concerned, never done anything wild or reckless.

And where had it gotten her?

Married to Brian Logan, who had cheated on her nearly every day.

Maybe for once she ought to do something daring. Maybe she ought to explore her very limited sexual education with Zach.

She had a week to think about it.

Surely by then she would come to her senses.