"Yes, you do." She nodded. "No, I mean… oh." Breathe, she told herself. Take a deep breath and try to locate your brain. "Okay, here's the way it is. I'm not cut out for a casual fling. I have to have a… solid connection with a man before I go to bed with him. I don't believe in recreational sex." She forced a smile in hopes of lightening the moment and added, "I'm a dinosaur."

"Did I mention I like dinosaurs?"

Oh, boy, she inwardly sighed. Oh, boy.

His fingers gently played with the hair at the nape of her neck. "Your hair is so soft," he whispered. "The color's like fire."

"I get the red hair and freckles from my mother," she answered, grasping for a rational thought.

"Did I mention I like women with freckles? I get this overwhelming urge to kiss every one of them."

"I've got freckles all over my body."

"We'll get to those."

She felt light-headed again. "It isn't going to happen."

"We'll see."

Lord, he was cocky. He really needed to work on that flaw, and she meant to tell him so when her head cleared. Right now,

she was too busy trying to stand on her feet. The man aroused her simply by touching her. Every nerve ending in her body responded to him.

When she realized she wanted to tear his clothes off, she pulled back. She gently pushed his arm away. Her legs felt like

Jell-O, but she managed to turn and walk to her bedroom. As she was shutting the door behind her, she made the mistake of looking at him. He was leaning against the doorframe smiling at her.

She wasn't going to let him know how potent his touch was. Mr. Big City Boy needed to be taught a lesson. He wouldn't get

his way.

"You mess with me and you pay the consequences," she said. "You can take a cold shower after I do." How telling was that?

Too late, she realized what she'd given away. "I'm taking a cold shower because I'm hot," she explained, and then realized she'd only made it worse.

"Michelle?" he drawled out.

"Yes?"

"I haven't begun to mess with you."

She shut the door and leaned against it. "Oh, boy," she whispered.

Michelle was counting all the reasons she shouldn't and wouldn't get involved with Theo. She'd gotten up to number twenty

when he knocked on the bathroom door.

"I haven't taken my shower yet."

"Yeah, I know. I was just wondering if you wanted me to hook up your computer for you?"

"You found it?"

She opened the door a crack and peeped out, holding her cotton robe together across her breasts.

"It was hard to miss. I tripped over one of the boxes when I put my clothes on the washer. So do you want me to or not?"

"Hook up my computer? Sure," she said.

She shut the door in his face and started counting all over again. When she got to number twenty-three-she'd have to change

the sheets-she realized she was getting desperate and went back to the number one reason. The man would break her heart.

She stepped into the bathtub and turned the shower on full blast. The icy cold water made her grimace. She adjusted the temperature and let the warm water soothe her.

By the time she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, she'd worked herself back up into a fit of indignation. Mess with her indeed. She wasn't so easily manipulated, she thought as she combed the tangles out of her hair and then turned on the blow dryer.

He'd probably be a demanding lover…

"Hell," she whispered. Slow and easy. Would she ever get those words out of her mind? It was like a song that kept replaying in her head.

She brushed her teeth, then put moisturizer on her face and stared at herself in the mirror. "Admit it," she whispered. "You want

to sleep with him."

She shook her head. No, that wasn't true. She wanted to have sex with him. And what was wrong with that? Absolutely nothing. She was merely fantasizing, and fantasy was a perfectly healthy function of the human psyche.

Acting upon the fantasy was another matter altogether. Reason number one… that heartbreaking thing… "Been there, done that," she whispered.

Oh, no, she wasn't going to get involved with Theo Buchanan. And so she didn't put on one of the short nightgowns that she usually wore to bed. She got her long blue silk pajamas out of her bottom drawer instead. She buttoned every button, including

the top one. The mandarin collar rubbed the sensitive skin underneath her chin. She reached for the matching blue slippers, but rejected those and found an old pair of thick white terry-cloth slip-ons under her bed. She brushed her hair to get it out of her

eyes, dabbed on a little colorless, moisturizing lip gloss, then hunted through her closet and dug out her heavy white flannel robe. The hem dragged on the floor. The robe had buttons and she secured every one of them. It also had a belt. She double knotted it.

Then she looked at herself in the mirror. Good, she thought. She looked like a nun.

Theo was in the library. He'd unloaded the computer equipment and had it up and running by the time she came downstairs. He was reading something on the monitor. He glanced over the top of his hornrimmed glasses at her when she entered the room, and his gaze froze. In a flash he noticed every little detail about her-how the blue pajamas matched the color of her eyes; how her hair, down around her shoulders, shimmered like russet gold in the soft light; how, without an ounce of makeup, she looked beautiful.

She was dressed for bed… as long as the bed was in Antarctica. Michelle was a physician, but she sure didn't know anything about how a man's mind worked. All those clothes… they just made him fantasize about what was underneath.

His imagination went to work, and he pictured her stripping off each layer before slipping between the covers. Ah, hell, don't think about it, he warned himself. For the love of God, don't think about the soft, warm skin underneath all that fabric.

Michelle walked over to the desk. Feeling extremely self-conscious because of the way he was staring at her, she fiddled with the knot in her belt and asked, "So? What do you think?"

"Theo?" she asked when he didn't immediately answer. He had a funny smile on his face now and was staring at her feet.

"What's the matter?"

"Are you expecting a snowstorm tonight?"

Her hand went to her throat. "I was chilly."

He laughed.

"I was,* she insisted. "I get cold when the air conditioner is on. I turned it down so you would be comfortable."

"Uh-huh."

Now she felt stupid because he wasn't buying her lie.

"Cute bunny slippers."

"Thank you," she said. "If you're finished mocking me, answer my question. What do you think… about my computer?"

"It's ancient."

"Will you stop staring at my slippers?"

Exasperated, she leaned against the side of the desk and removed the slippers. Theo laughed again when he saw that she

was wearing socks.

"Now what's so funny?" she demanded.

"I was just wondering if you were wearing long underwear too."

"I don't own any long underwear," she countered. "Now, will you answer my question. Does my computer work or not?"

"Where did you get this thing?"

"My brother Remy gave it to me. He picked it up secondhand the last time he was home. I haven't had time to set it up. I've

only been in the house a couple of weeks. John Paul wanted to put another coat of varnish on the floors, and if you knew my brother, you'd understand he does things on his own schedule. I've been using the computer at the hospital. I know this one is outdated, but eventually, when I can afford it, I'll get a newer one."

Theo angled the screen near the corner of the desk, adjusted the keypad the way he thought she'd want it, then leaned back in