he Integrity Home Inspection truck arrived at the Santiago house on Tuesday morning after Miguel had left for work in the fields. Elizabeth met them at the property, left them there for the three hours they would be working, then returned when it was time for them to leave.

"What did you find?" she asked Wiley Malone, the owner of the company. He and two of his employees had been hired to make a thorough inspection of the home. She would have to pay the cost herself, but the price he had quoted hadn't been all that bad.

"Good solid house," Wiley said, a burly man in coveralls with thinning, gray hair. "No leaks, no problems with the plumbing. Walls have good insulation."

"What about under the house? Did you find anything in the crawl space?" The house sat about three feet off the ground, supported by a concrete perimeter foundation, with wooden floors beneath the carpet.

Malone grinned. He had very large teeth. "Found some fat black widow spiders. Sprayed 'em for you—no charge. Didn't smell anything unusual, though, just a little mold and musty-smellin' dirt. If you're worried about the soil, I'd get Higgins Consulting out here to take a sample. They look for contamination, environment problems. Maybe they can find something."

"Thank you, Mr. Malone."

"It's just Wiley, and you're welcome." The men collected their gear—ladders, flashlights and toolboxes—and headed over to the truck they had come in. Elizabeth watched them drive away, then turned to see Maria standing on the porch.

"What did those men find?"

"They said the house was sound."

Maria nodded resolutely. "I did not think they would find anything wrong."

"We still need to check the soil under the house, see if there is some sort of environmental pollution. I'll call the company today."

"They will not find anything, either."

Elizabeth sighed. "So you want me to believe there is actually a ghost in the house."

"What if there is?"

"I'll call the soil company. Once we see what they find out, we can go from there."

But Higgins Consulting didn't find anything wrong with the soil, certainly nothing that would explain the noises, or the cold or the sickening smell.

Or the hazy vision Maria claimed to have seen.

Frustrated and worried, Elizabeth was busy working at the office when Zach called. She dragged a curl of heavy auburn hair out of the way and pressed the receiver against her ear.

"You busy? It's Zach."

"Hello, Zach." Her fingers tightened around the phone at the familiar deep tones of his voice. "I'm always busy, but I'm not with a client right now."

"I just called to see how you were, and how it went with the house inspectors."

"I'm fine. The house is fine, too, unfortunately. I had Integrity Home Inspection and Higgins Consulting both take a very thorough look, and neither of them found a damned thing. In fact, they said the place was in very good condition."

"I suppose something that obvious would have been too easy."

"I suppose. Luckily, I don't think Carson knows they were there."

"Lucky for one of us, at least."

She chuckled.

"Listen, after I left San Pico on Sunday, I did a little research."

"Yeah, what kind of research?"

"Research on ghosts. Guess what?"

"I'm not sure I want to know."

"What you felt that night is called a cold spot. It's a commonly reported phenomenon in houses that are supposedly haunted."

"I don't believe this. Are you seriously thinking there may be a ghost in the house?"

"I'm just telling you what I found out. I thought you might be interested."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling the beginning of a headache. "Considering I haven't got a single clue what else could be wrong, I suppose I am."

"Listen, I'll be up there on Friday. I'll leave as soon I can get away from work. I'd like to take you out on Friday night."

"Zach, I really don't think—"

"I know, I know. I didn't mean to let things get so out of hand last weekend. It just sort of happened."

That was an understatement. She had been thinking of nothing but sex with Zach all week. The more she tried not to, the worse the obsession seemed to get.

"We'll just go out," he said. "Go to the show or something, get a pizza, maybe. You don't even have to invite me in when I bring you home. What do you think?"

Was this really Zach Harcourt? He'd been pushy back in his youth, determined to have his way. Then again, maybe he was just as determined now, in a slightly different manner. Whatever the truth, she wanted to see him even though she knew she shouldn't.

"All right, I suppose going to the show would be safe enough."

"Hey, is the old drive-in theater on Crest Lane still open?"

"What?"

"Just kidding."

She smiled into the phone. "You are an evil man. What time?"

She could hear him chuckling. "Movie probably starts at seven. Pick something out for us to see and I'll try to be there by six. I'll call if I get tied up in traffic."

Elizabeth hung up the phone just as the intercom buzzed.

"Your next appointment is here," the receptionist, Terry Lane, told her.

"Send her in." Elizabeth straightened the jacket of her cream linen suit, determined to force her mind back to work and not wonder if she'd been a fool to agree to another date with Zach.

* * *

The intercom buzzed on Zach's big glass-topped desk and his secretary's voice filled the room. "You've got a call, Zach. It's your brother."

So much for Carson not finding out. He pushed the speaker button instead of picking up the receiver just to keep a little distance between them.

"Carson. Good of you to call."

"My ass. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

"Fine, I will. You told Elizabeth Conners she could bring people in to inspect the Santiago house. You had no right to do that, Zach."

"So what if I did? What the hell do you care? They didn't find anything wrong with the place. In fact they said it was in great condition. You ought to be ecstatic."

Silence on the end of the phone. "I don't like it, that's all. I told her no, so she ran to you. You don't have squat to say about anything on the farm."

"It was no big deal, all right? You're not out a dime. Liz is happy, and maybe Maria Santiago will be able to sleep a little easier."

"I still don't like it. Keep your nose out of Harcourt Farms business."

"I've never tried to interfere in your decisions, Carson. But remember one thing. I'm a lawyer and a good one. If I wanted some say in running that place, I'd find a way to get it."

"Don't threaten me, Zach."

"That's a fact, Carson, not a threat. Fortunately, for you, I don't want a damned thing to do with the farm. I never have. Just make sure you're putting Dad's share of the profits in his account and I'm a happy man."

Carson grunted in reply and hung up the phone and Zach's thoughts returned to where they had been before his brother's call. Liz Conners.

She'd agreed to go out with him again. In a way, he was surprised. He'd damned near scared her away, pressing her so hard to get her to go to bed with him. He hadn't meant to. He'd had a feeling Liz was inexperienced when it came to sex and she was already skittish where he was concerned. Somehow he'd just lost control.

It didn't happen often and the fact it had happened with Liz just showed how much he wanted her.

And she wanted him, he now knew. Liz was one hot lady. She just didn't know it. Zach couldn't think of anything he would rather do than awaken the sexuality he had sensed in her as far back as her senior year in high school. Still, he had meant what he said. He wouldn't press her, not again. Liz was a woman worth waiting for.

Silently, he vowed that this time when he saw her, he would take things slow and easy, be careful not to frighten her away.

* * *

Maria phoned Elizabeth at the office early Friday morning. Terry had not yet arrived and the front desk was empty, so Elizabeth picked up the phone. She recognized Maria's voice, though it sounded high-pitched and shaky, the woman very near the edge of hysteria.

"Elizabeth, Dios mio, thank God, you are there."

"Take it easy, Maria. What's wrong?"

"She…she came again last night. The ghost. She was there in my house."

Elizabeth ignored a faint shiver as she remembered the frightening night she had spent in the little yellow house. Still, there couldn't be a ghost. She didn't believe in ghosts. "Was Miguel there when she came?"

"He was sleeping. I tried to wake him, but I couldn't. It was the same as before, only I could see her better. She said that I should leave the house. She said that if I stayed they would…they would kill my baby."

"Maria, listen to me. We're going to figure this out."

Maria started crying. "Señor Harcourt, he is sending all of the overseers to the County Farm Implement Show up in Tulare. Miguel will be gone for two nights. I am supposed to stay with Lupe Garcia. She is Chico's wife, another of the other overseers. I do not want to go. They all think I am loco, that I am behaving like a child." She started sobbing into the phone.

"Don't cry, Maria, please. What nights will Miguel be gone?"

"Tomorrow night and Sunday."

"All right, then. You have a place to go for those two nights and in the meantime…In the meantime, I'm going to try to find out what is happening in the house."

Maria's breath hitched. "You are not…you are not thinking to stay there yourself?"

The notion had only been swimming around in her head. Now it seemed like a good idea. Sort of.

"Yes, I am. I'm going to find out what's happening. I think this is the best way to do it."

"But you should not stay there alone. It is not safe."

"I'm not afraid of ghosts, Maria. I'll be fine."

"I do not think—"

"Someone has to do this. We have to figure out what's going on."

Maria's voice trembled. "You are right, but still I am frightened."

"Everything's going to be all right." Elizabeth hung up the phone, beginning to formulate a plan.

Tomorrow morning, she would go over and see Maria, make arrangements to get a key so she could get into the house that night. She owned a gun. With the kind of work she did, she even had a permit to carry, though she had never done it. Tomorrow night, she would take the gun with her just in case. Perhaps someone was playing a terrible joke, or maybe whoever it was meant to hurt the family living in the house. If they came while she was there, she might need the gun to defend herself.

Or maybe something had been wired into the walls and the inspectors had somehow missed it. If someone was there, manipulating the eerie happenings, she would be ready.

She worked hard all day, her mind skipping from her client appointments to the task she had set for herself tomorrow night. In a way, she was excited. Maybe there really was a ghost!

She laughed at the notion. Something was going on, but she doubted the place was haunted.

At five o'clock she finished up for the day and left the office. Her thoughts were on Zach now, on the evening ahead. All week she had tried not to think of him and rarely been successful. She had tried to imagine herself as the femme fatale Zach believed her to be but couldn't seem to conjure the image.

Still, by the time six o'clock rolled around, she was restless and growing more so by the moment. She had picked out a movie for them to see, but discovered she was no longer in the mood. When Zach called to tell her he was going to be half an hour late, she found herself prowling the apartment thinking about him, remembering the way he had kissed her, touched her, remembering the promise he had made.

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

Her stomach contracted. Desire slipped through her and her nipples tightened. It was ridiculous.

Wasn't it?

Then again, she was a woman just like any other. She had the same wants and needs.

By the time Zach knocked on the door, her breasts were tingling, her skin sensitive in a way she had never experienced before. Her hand trembled as she reached out to open the door.

"Hello, Zach." Her voice sounded husky and unfamiliar, as if it came from a different woman.

Zach's warm brown eyes instantly darkened. He must have some sort of mating instinct, she thought, an ability to read exactly what she was thinking.

"Hello, Liz." His gaze slid down to the sleeveless scoop-neck top she wore and he noticed her nipples were pebbled into little peaks. "You've been thinking about me."

She looked up at him, saw the glittering heat in the gold of his eyes. She should have been embarrassed but she wasn't. "Yes," she said softly. "I have."

For several seconds, Zach just stood there, looking like a man at war with himself. "I've been thinking about you, too," he said, and then he hauled her into his arms.

* * *

Damn, he'd planned to be on his best behavior tonight, been determined to control the throbbing sexual need he felt whenever he saw her. Then he had stepped through the door, looked into those pretty blue eyes and read the need she no longer tried to hide.

Christ, he wanted her, wanted to be inside her so much he ached with it. Instead he kissed her. Kissed her and kissed her, ravaging her lips, taking her with his tongue, filling her mouth as he longed to fill her body. She was slim, yet beautifully curved, a womanly figure that perfectly fit his taller frame. He reached beneath her pale blue, short cotton skirt and cupped her bottom in his hands, pulling her closer, into the vee of his crotch, letting her feel how hard he was for her.

Her slim hands dug into his shoulders and he felt her tremble. He was wildly aroused. He wanted to rip off her clothes, wanted to drag her down on the carpet and bury himself inside her. He clamped down on his control, determined not to let it get away from him as it had before. Liz wasn't fighting him, wasn't resisting, and yet he was determined that if she made the least attempt to stop, he would let her.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. But God, he was glad it was.

He trailed kisses along her jaw. "I want you so much," he whispered against the side of her neck. Waves of burnished dark hair brushed his cheek and his groin tightened. "I can't remember wanting anyone so badly."

"I want you, too, Zach."

He took a deep breath, fighting to remain in control, but the feel of her breasts pillowing against his chest made it nearly impossible to do. Feeling no resistance to another penetrating kiss, he lifted her into his arms and carried her across the living room to the bedroom, set her on her feet beside the queen-size bed.

His mouth settled softly over hers. He loved kissing her, loved the way she tasted, the slickness of her tongue over his, the little ripples of pleasure that moved through her body whenever he deepened the kiss. Catching the hem of her sleeveless knit top, he drew it off over her head, then pressed soft kisses along her throat and shoulders.

She was wearing the same kind of lacy white bra she had been wearing before, sweet but incredibly sexy. He popped the catch, drew the straps off her shoulders, then gave himself a moment to enjoy the sight of her lovely bare breasts.

He didn't take too long. He knew this was difficult for her. Any minute he expected her to bolt from the bedroom. He palmed her breasts, circled the nipples with his thumb, tugged on the ends, pinched lightly, then replaced his hands with his mouth.

The creamy texture of her skin made an ache throb in his groin and he fought to stifle a groan.

"Zachary…"

"Easy, baby." He suckled the fullness, bit the ends, then returned to exploring her mouth. He could feel her trembling, feel her heart pounding nearly as hard as his own.

He unzipped her skirt and eased it over her hips, let it fall into a puddle at her feet. Her toes were painted a pretty pale pink, and he liked the feminine way they looked peeking out of her open-toed, high-heeled sandals. She was wearing a tiny pair of lacy, white thong underwear, he saw, and another jolt of heat rocked through him.

"Did you wear those for me?" he asked, palming her sex, feeling the heat there, making her tremble.

"No, I…maybe I…yes, I suppose I must have."

She hadn't meant to do this, he figured. Or if she had, the decision had been subconscious. He knelt in front of her, blew on the folds of her sex through the panties, pressed his mouth there, his tongue against the fabric, dampening it and giving him even better access to the soft flesh beneath.

He thought of stripping the panties away and taking her with his tongue, but she was a novice at the game of pleasure and he didn't want to frighten her.

"Zachary…?"

Hearing the faint note of uncertainty in her voice, he moved up her body, tasting her breasts again, kissing her until she relaxed once more.

She reached for the buttons on his shirt, her courage apparently returning. "I want to touch you," she said. "The way you touched me. I want to see you naked."

Zach kissed her. "I want that, too."

She unfastened the last few buttons, her hands shaking, then eased the garment off his shoulders and tossed it over a chair in the corner. He kicked off his loafers as she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly, hesitated only an instant, then shoved his pants down his legs to the floor.

He stepped out of them and took off the rest of his clothes, his eyes on her face as she studied his erection.

"I hope I can…handle all of that."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I'll be there to help."

She reached out and touched the tattoo on his arm. "Born to be wild." She looked up at him, desire clear in her eyes. "Make love to me, Zach."

She didn't have to ask him twice. Lifting her up, he settled her in the middle of the bed, took care of protection, then came down slowly on top of her. He kissed her, slid his hands down her body until he found her softness and began to stroke her. She was incredibly wet and slick and it made him want her even more.

"Zach, please…"

"Soon, love." But not until he had her on the edge of climax, until she was close to screaming. He liked sex and he was good at it. He wanted to be good for Liz.

He stroked her slowly, skillfully, kissed her breasts, her throat, her lips. He increased the rhythm and she arched up off the bed, made a soft little pleading sound in her throat.

"Zach, please…I need…I need…"

"I've got exactly what you need, baby." And then he was parting her legs, fitting himself between them, sliding his erection into her softness.

Liz arched upward, driving him deeper still, burying him all the way to the hilt. He groaned at the feel of her gloving him so sweetly, heard her soft little mewling sounds of pleasure. Her nails dug into his back, and she trembled beneath him.

"Oh, God, oh, God, Zach, you feel so good."

"Easy." Out and then in, deep, rhythmic strokes, giving her as much of himself as he knew how, but the pleasure was beginning to overwhelm him and he was afraid he would lose control. Not yet, he told himself. Not until she's ready. Just hang on just a little longer.

He surged deeply again, and sweat popped out on his forehead. Faster, deeper, harder. Sweet Jesus! He couldn't take much more.

He was clinging to his last thread of control when he heard her cry out his name, felt her body tighten sweetly around him. She slipped into a powerful climax, and Zach let himself go.

He reached his own, earth-shattering release and wondered why it seemed so different with Liz.