Rex shook his head. "Sorry, mermaid, we've made other plans for the evening." As Tamara would have protested, he went on quickly, "In fact, we have to get moving right away."

"Breakfast tomorrow then," Jenny insisted firmly. "Ten o'clock, and ask that nice Scotty Oliver, too."

"Yes, ma'am," Rex said meekly, sketching a salute. "It shall be as you decree, mermaid."

"Wretch," she charged fondly. Then turning to Tamara, she said, "It's quite unfair for him to whisk you away before I get to know you. Well have to make up for it tomorrow."

"I'd like that," Tamara said earnestly. She had a notion that Jenny Jason was a person she might like very much. They said good-bye, then as the door closed behind Jenny, Rex was suddenly pulling her across the living room toward her bedroom.

"What's the hurry?"

"You have the nerve to ask me that?" Rex asked wryly. "Look, love, wear the crimson gown tonight, the one you wore that first night, okay? I have a special reason for asking."

"If you like," she said slowly.

"I like," he said, and gave her a quick kiss. "I’ll meet you in the lobby in an hour."

He was waiting by the elevator when she arrived in the lobby, looking wildly handsome in a black tuxedo and white, ruffled dress shirt that only served to accent his overpowering masculinity.

"You look as lovely as I remembered," he said huskily. "Do you know that when I first saw you, you reminded me of a princess in a fairy tale?"

Her violet eyes twinkled. "So you immediately attacked me," she teased. "Not very gallant, Rex."

"Sheer self-defense," he said with a breezy grin. "Come on, princess, I have some surprises for you." He took her firmly by the arm and escorted her swiftly to the parking lot to his rented yellow Ferrari.

An hour later they pulled up before a gracious, rambling building that could have passed for an English manor house. Set incongruously in the desert, it was still very impressive.

"The Lennox Inn?" she asked, arching an eyebrow quizzically, as Rex helped her carefully out of the car and tossed the keys to a waiting, liveried bellhop.

"You can find anything in Las Vegas if you look hard enough," Rex said, grinning.

The lobby was carpeted in rich crimson and the decor was strictly out of the eighteenth century. Expecting to go through the lobby to the dining room, she was surprised when Rex led her up a stately staircase to a carved oak door on the second floor. Taking a key from his pocket, he opened the door and gestured with a flourish.

"For my lady," he announced grandly, bowing gracefully and stepping aside for her to enter. There was a mischievous grin on his face and his dark eyes were dancing.

"I think I've just stepped into the pages of Tom Jones," Tamara said faintly, walking to the center of the room and looking around bemusedly.

The octagon-shaped chamber was straight out of the romantic past. A fire blazed in a huge fireplace at' the far end of the room. It was for romantic effect obviously and made possible by the labor of a powerful air-conditioning system. A white shag area rug covered a vast amount of gleaming oak floor. Three shallow steps led to a massive canopy bed draped in a delicate, rose and cream tapestry print. There were flowers everywhere and of every description. There was a particularly lovely bouquet of lilacs in a graceful copper vase in the Sheraton commode; the heady fragrance pervaded the room.

Rex followed her inside and shut the door, leaning against it indolently while he watched her with a curious tenderness. "I wanted my lady from another century to feel at home," he said softly. He straightened and moved forward, encircling her with his arms and bringing her gently into his embrace. "Just as I want you to feel you've come home when you lie in my arms tonight."

"Oh, I will. I will," she promised fervently. Her own arms wrapped tightly around his lean waist and she struggled to fight back tears at this extravagantly touching gesture.

A shudder rippled through his body as she pressed her soft curves against him. He put her firmly from him. "I've planned a terrific dinner that has an excellent chance of never being eaten if you don't get away from me, babe."

"I'm not really hungry," she whispered, watching the flickering firelight play on the hard contours of his face, highlighting especially the beauty of his sensual mouth.

"Get thee behind me, Satan," he quoted thickly. He moved purposely away from her. "Room service will be here any minute. Why don't you go into the dressing room and change. I'd like to wash up myself."

"Is there a sunken tub in the bathroom?" she asked with a twinkle.

"No." He walked to a door to the left of the massive bed. "But you can order a hip bath built for two to be set before the fireplace." He paused at the door and winked. "I left orders for that to be delivered after dinner."

"Rex!"

Ten minutes later she stood in front of an oval, full-length mirror and gazed at a woman who might well have stepped from the past. There had been no nightgown hanging in the small closet. The only garment Rex had provided was a long, full robe of rich, creamy satin that buttoned down the front. It had long, flowing sleeves and bared her golden shoulders, only hinting at the curves beneath. She felt as romantically lovely as a bride on her wedding night.

When Rex first saw her, his ebony eyes blazed with sudden feeling and he moved across the room impulsively. He'd removed the tuxedo jacket and his ruffled shirt was unbuttoned almost to the waist.

Tamara felt a sudden longing to reach out and run her hands caressingly over that muscular, hair- roughened chest, but she didn't get the opportunity.

Rex swiftly gathered her hands to his lips and, one at a time, kissed the fingers lingeringly. “‘She doth teach the torch to burn bright,' " he quoted huskily, then grinned mischievously. "Romeo and Juliet. I memorized that bit especially for tonight."

Tamara shook her head bemusedly. He was as changeable as a chameleon. Would she ever be able to predict the directions that Rex's quicksilver personality might take?

"You're impossible," she said, chuckling.

"Impossibly hungry," he returned promptly, turning her toward a damask-covered candlelit table in the center of the room. "Let us feed the inner man, princess."

Afterward Tamara could never remember what was said over that candlelit table, nor a morsel of what they ate. Her only memory was of sudden, breathless silences, smoky dark eyes, and a low baritone chuckle that sent shivers down her spine.

After the table had been removed, Rex threw down two enormous, scarlet-tassled pillows before the fire, and dropped down on the shaggy white rug. She came like a homing pigeon when he stretched out his arms invitingly, and he settled her beside him, spreading the shimmering blue black of her hair on the scarlet pillow. He poured her a glass of red wine from the bottle beside him and cuddled her close, fitting her cheek into his shoulder.

"Do you like your surprise?" he asked, stroking her silky hair gently.

"It is lovely," she answered contentedly, watching the light of the fire turn the wine in her crystal glass to a glowing ruby.

"I wanted it to be perfect for you," he said gravely. "No, that's not quite true. I wanted it to be perfect for both of us." He chuckled deep in his chest. "But I'm finding my patience is running out very quickly. Do you really want that wine?"

She went breathlessly still. "I never really cared for the taste of wine."

"Thank the Lord!" he said fervently, taking her goblet and placing it carefully with his own on a silver tray. Then he bent over her, his dark eyes blazing hotly. "I've been very patient, for me. Now sweetheart?"

"Now." She barely had time to murmur the word before his lips closed on hers in a kiss that seared through her like a lightning bolt. His hard body pressed down on her with hot urgency as Rex began to unleash his pent-up desire.