Tamara lazily rolled over on her back, adjusted her sunglasses carefully, and gazed at the exotic landscaping around the Olympic-sized pool. She sighed in contentment. The Santa Flores was a truly beautiful hotel casino, with an islanchmotif and sumptuous air of quiet luxury that was unique in a town like Las Vegas. The penthouse apartment that had been lent to Rex by the hotel's owner was also exceptionally lovely. She was going to like it here, she thought dreamily. But then she would like it anywhere with Rex.

The last three days had passed with lightning rapidity and, despite the mad pace set by Rex and Oliver, she'd thoroughly enjoyed them. She'd found the companionship bred by being on the road was unique and intimate and had even extended to her relationship with Scotty Oliver. If not exactly on cordial terms, they at least had developed a mutual respect which might eventually lead to friendship.

As for Rex, it seemed with the winning of her promise he'd decided he could relax, and the tempo of their relationship eased to a warm, friendly camaraderie. Not that there hadn't been moments that had sparked into near-flame. Their physical chemistry was too strong not to generate its own fireworks. She was conscious that Rex was carefully damping down the blatant sexuality that was a natural facet of his make-up, but she could still detect a virile magnetism that was very disturbing.

There had been many moments when she'd wanted to give in and tell him three days was a lifetime too long to wait. Particularly since her herbal ointment had worked so beautifully that he was almost back to normal by the end of the Houston concert. It wasn't shyness that made her hesitate but caution. They needed the time to probe each other's minds and personalities before entering into a physical commitment she had an idea would eclipse every other facet of their relationship, at least temporarily.

Now she was glad she'd waited. She was sure her love for Rex was based on more than that magical desire he could provoke with only a long, slumbering look from those intense black eyes. The Rex Brody she had come to know in the past few days was a complex combination of tough, aggressive street kid, brilliant creative artist, and witty, cynical man of the world. Add a dash of mischievous little boy and that occasional, irresistible tenderness, and there emerged a man any woman would be proud to love. And love him she certainly did, she thought ruefully. He seemed to encompass everything she wanted in the world now, and she desired that final physical commitment as much as he. Not only for the wild pleasure she was sure he would bring to her, but for the possible bonds that pleasure might forge between them. She had less than a month to make him feel some of the love she felt for him, and she grew terrified at the thought of failure. She shook her head firmly. She wouldn't fail. She would pursue this most important goal with the same perseverance and intelligence she'd demonstrated over the years and she would succeed. Heaven help her, she had to.

Tamara checked her watch and noticed with satisfaction that it was almost five. Rex had asked her to meet him back in the penthouse suite at five, and then left her to go off on some mysterious business of his own. She'd decided to spend the hours until she saw him again at the pool, but it had been a long four hours. She'd grown used to being with him constantly in the past few days and she felt strangely incomplete without him.

She stood up, slipped on a royal purple beach robe over her lavender bikini, and set off eagerly for the penthouse. Using the key Rex had given her, she entered the apartment and tripped through the foyer to the living room.

"Rex," she called, "Are you-"

She stopped in the doorway, feeling as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. The woman in Rex's arms was tiny but voluptuous, with dark hair flowing almost to her waist. Dressed only in a halter top and short shorts, she was embracing Rex with an enthusiastic fervor. But no more enthusiastic than the way Rex was holding her, Tamara noticed miserably.

"Excuse me," she muttered, as the two looked up in surprise at her entrance. She ran blindly to the guest bedroom she'd been allotted, wanting only to get out of sight so she could release this agony. She slammed the door closed only to have it explode open behind her.

"Oh no you don't!" Rex growled. "I'm not having you run in here and sulk, damn it! You're coming back into the living room to meet Jenny."

"I'm quite sure you'd rather be alone with her," Tamara said huskily, not looking at him. "I'm sorry I interrupted you."

Rex ran his fingers through his dark hair distractedly. "Listen, I'm sure as hell not going to risk any misunderstandings today so I'm going to explain very carefully. That lovely person out there is your hostess, Jenny Jason. She and her husband, Steve, are not only my best friends, but I'm godfather to their son, Sean. Now will you come back and act like a civilized human being?"

Sheer relief made Tamara light-headed. "She's just a friend?" she whispered, her violet eyes starry with unshed tears.

"Scout's honor," he said, his own eyes twinkling. "Do you think I'd be crazy enough to risk tonight for a moment's gratification? I've barely been able to hold out for the past three days. It seemed more like three years."

"For me, too," she said, and the glowing radiance in her eyes caused him to catch his breath.

"Don't do that to me, babe," he said huskily. "We've still got a few hours to get through before I can follow up on what those pansy eyes are saying." He drew a deep breath and took her gently by the arm. "Come on and meet Jenny."

Jenny Jason was even lovelier than Tamara had first thought. She had the most magnificent, silver gray eyes Tamara had ever seen, and certainly the – warmest smile. She accepted Tamara's shy apology with a friendly grin and wry grimace. "Actually, I was quite flattered," she said breezily, flopping down into a burgundy velvet armchair. "It's not often an old married woman like me is mistaken for a Femme fatale. It was quite a boost for my ego."

"Poor old lady," Rex scoffed. "How old are you now, mermaid? Twenty-three?"

"Twenty-four," Jenny corrected indignantly. "And I'm the mother of a very hyper two-year-old, so that ought to count double." Her eyes were bright with curiosity as she appraised Tamara from the top of her head to her feet. "You're absolutely gorgeous, you know," she added approvingly. "And definitely not an Amazon."

"I beg your pardon?" Tamara asked bewilderedly.

"Rex has a positive antipathy for six-foot showgirls," Jenny explained, her silver eyes dancing. "Once one of them got hold of the key to his suite and-"

"It's an old private joke," Rex interrupted hastily, and Tamara felt a twinge of envy at the obvious long-standing intimacy between them. "Where's Steve, Jenny? Don't tell me he let you come to Vegas by yourself?"

"He's in San Francisco on business. I was with him, but I had to come back early to take Sean to the pediatrician to have his six-month checkup. After his appointment, I sent him back to the ranch with Mike and came on to the apartment to see you," Jenny explained lightly. "Steve should be back by the weekend. He said to tell you he was sorry to miss your opening tomorrow night."

Rex shrugged. "It doesn't matter," he said, his dark eyes dancing. "I'll be just as good the third night."

Jenny chuckled and glanced at Tamara. "I hope you’ll work at ridding him of that terrible inferiority complex."

"Are you going back to the ranch tonight?" Rex asked, then turned to Tamara. "When Sean was born," he explained, "Steve and Jenny bought a ranch just outside Vegas. They only use the apartment occasionally now."

"To answer your question," Jenny said, "I have a meeting at the Chamber of Commerce tomorrow morning. I'll probably be going back tomorrow evening." She lifted an inquiring brow. "Am I to have the honor of your company at dinner tonight?"