"What a damnably condescending description! And for your information, I'm not a rock star."

"Whatever," Tamara said with a shrug, and this seemed to please him even less.

"You've really never seen me perform?" he asked, shaking his dark head disbelievingly. With the simple endearing egotism of a child, he added, "I didn't think that was possible."

She smothered an involuntary smile and tried to frown sternly at him. "This is all completely nonessential, Mr. Brody," she said briskly. "Now, will you permit Aunt Elizabeth to return that gift and forget about all this nonsense of pressing charges?"

"Oh yes, your Aunt Elizabeth," he said absently, and Tamara had the odd impression he'd forgotten about the threat that had made her almost frantic with worry. Then his dark eyes became shuttered and he once more leaned back against the balustrade and smiled mockingly. "It's not going to be that easy, sweetheart. I happen to be as protective of my aunt as you seem to be of yours. I'm afraid I'm going to need a hostage for your aunt's future good behavior."

"A hostage?" Tamara asked warily. "You can't mean you're still suggesting that I become your mistress?"

"Oh yes, I still intend that you occupy my bed eventually," he said gently, his dark eyes regretful. "But I must admit you've complicated things enormously by appealing to my protective instincts. When I thought you were just a tough little cookie with a fantastic body, I was sure we could negotiate a mutually pleasant exchange of favors." He sighed morosely. "Now I guess I'll have to resort to a little blackmail."

"Blackmail can be a very ugly crime, Mr. Brody," she said, her voice shaking with anger.

"Just calm down, sweetheart," he said coolly. "I've no intention of inviting you into my bed until you're as eager to go there as I am. I like my women willing. All I'm bargaining for at the moment is the pleasure of your company for the next four weeks. I open in New York day after tomorrow, and then I go on a cross-country tour. I want you to come with me."

"Come with you?" Tamara repeated, feeling as if she were caught in the center of a whirlwind. "You mean you want me to just drop everything, disrupt my entire life, and trail around with you like some sort of camp follower?"

"Yep," he drawled blandly. "That about covers it. In return, I promise to leave your slightly larcenous relative to her own devices as long as they don't involve Aunt Margaret. I'll also promise not to bed you until you say the word."

"You have it all worked out," she observed dryly. "Didn't it occur to you that I do have a career of my own? I just can't abandon it to become your own private groupie."

"I hardly think Bettencourt will be too enthusiastic about retaining your services after the debacle this evening," Brody said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. "No matter how valuable an employee you are or how close you were in the past, I got the distinct impression tonight that he's very fond of his Celia. If it comes down to choices, you'll be out on your ear, love."

She wondered uneasily if he were right. Despite Walter Bettencourt's business acumen, he'd always been blindly indulgent in matters concerning his daughter. Was all the work and effort of the past five years to be wiped out in a matter of hours?

Brody frowned with concern when he saw the stricken look on Tamara's face, and he moved instinctively to cradle her once again in his arms. "Hey, don't," he said huskily, as he buried his face in her hair. "You look like a little girl who's just lost her favorite doll. I told you I can't stand that." He rocked her tenderly, while his deep voice murmured consolingly. "Who in the hell cares about Bettencourt's job anyway? At the end of the tour, I’ll buy you your own flower shop anywhere you want to set up. How about Rodeo Drive?"

"Herb shop," she corrected automatically, and then chuckled. "I think you actually mean it. One minute you're blackmailing me and the next you're giving me the most fabulous present imaginable. Are you always this generous?"

"It's only money," he said and shrugged. "I've pots of the stuff. Why shouldn't I replace your doll, little girl?" His deep voice was like dark honey.

Tamara felt her throat tighten helplessly. This particular Rex Brody was much more dangerous than the sexy aggressor who had brought her body to electric awareness early this evening. It was so hard to fight his warm, touching, caring, and almost boyish sincerity. Nevertheless, she said huskily, "I'm a big girl and I buy my own toys now. I couldn't accept your offer, Mr. Brody."

His arms tightened about her. "We'll work something out. I'll advance you the money as a long-term loam."

She shook her head, trying hard not to smile. "You're certainly offering extravagantly generous terms for your bargain. You know you've no real guarantee of getting what you want, don't you?"

He tilted her head back and his hand stroked the curve of her cheek with sensuous enjoyment. "You have the most exquisite skin. It's like warm satin," he said. She stood quite docilely, still curiously content under that caressing touch, almost as if he had a perfect right to stroke and caress her. This remarkable man had the most extraordinary effect on her, Tamara thought in bewilderment. She would move out of his arms in a moment, she promised herself. But there was no threat in that gentle touch, and it was pleasurable to let herself be fondled like a beloved child.

"I fully expect to get what I want, love," he said lazily. "We're a highly combustible mixture, and I assure you I'm going to bend all my efforts toward a Fourth-of-July explosion. Besides, there sure any number of women who are attracted to the glamour of the spotlight and make a nuisance of themselves. A beauty like you would prove a valuable deterrent."

"And what if I resist your fatal charm and refuse to occupy your bed for the entire month?" she asked curiously.

"Then you walk away with your aunt free and clear, and an exclusive little boutique on Rodeo Drive. You also have the satisfaction of seeing me with egg on my face," he said lightly.

Her eyes narrowed. "I think I may call your bluff. I don't think you'll really press charges against my Aunt Elizabeth if I don't go with you."

His hand stopped its stroking and dropped to her shoulders. "Don't try it, babe," he warned so softly that Tamara barely detected the steely menace in his voice until she noticed the faint hardening of his lips and the dangerous flicker in the dark eyes. "I grew up as a slum kid on the streets of New York and I never learned how to bluff. If you couldn't deliver what you promised, then you ended up in a gutter or a hospital bed. Don't make the mistake of thinking I don't mean exactly what I say."

She twisted away from him with a little nervous shiver. How could she have forgotten her first impression of Brody? He was every bit the tough, menacing stranger of that first meeting. He was all the more dangerous for the chameleon quality that allowed him to alter his personality at will and keep his antagonists in a constant state of imbalance.

"Oh, I believe you, Mr. Brody," she said. "I'm quite sure you can be just as unscrupulous as you say. I suppose I'll have to agree to your terms, but at the end of that month, I want nothing from you but my release." Her mouth tightened.” You’re going to look funny with egg on your face."

He smiled gently, his eyes once more warm and caressing. "We'll have to see about that, won't we, love?" He leaned forward and gave her a quick, impudent kiss on the tip of her nose. "Now I think I'd better take you home. You've had enough strain to cope with this evening. Shall I get your wrap and bring it to you here?"

She nodded wearily, feeling suddenly as exhausted as if she'd fought a major battle. And so she had, she thought ruefully, and a losing one at that. "Yes, please. It's a black velvet cloak."