What was the point? She'd messed up. She couldn't appear on his doorstep in a skirt now. It would be too obvious, not to mention downright pitiable.

Charlotte closed her eyes and tried to relax. But she was slammed by her own memory instead, treated to a play-by-play of what had happened thirteen years ago, what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

"… some men are put on this earth simply to make women happy…"

The images rushed into her head in high-definition clarity, in bright color, and in painfully exact detail.

Her legs had been shaking as she took the exit off the parkway that day. She watched in the rearview mirror as the man drove right up on the bumper of the Miata, his smile getting bigger and brighter.

She felt like a fish on a hook, aware that she was a fish who was asking for it, opening her little fish mouth and pulling out her own little fish cheek so the hook could find purchase in her flesh.

Charlotte had known she was taking a huge risk, but right at that moment, it didn't matter.

It was a small parking lot with about twenty spaces marked by diagonal white lines. A wooden National Park Service shelter displayed a map under Plexiglas. She saw two other cars but no other people-they must have been out walking. And the man had pulled right up next to her. When she got the courage to look over at him, he'd taken off his sunglasses.

She felt the hook pierce her; but it didn't just sink into the flesh of her cheek-she was also hooked deep down in her gut, and it was a fatal wound.

His eyes were dark, shining, and full of the promise of pleasure. She wasn't completely ignorant. No, she'd never actually done it, but she knew seduction when she saw it, and die way he smiled at her with that chiseled mouth was primal and dangerous and full of entitlement.

She couldn't swallow. She couldn't move.

He opened the door of the black Jeep, and she watched his long legs swing out before he hopped down with the grace of an athlete. He was the most amazingly male creature she'd ever seen. He hooked his sunglasses into the belt loop of his worn jeans, and her eyes followed his movement, giving her an excuse to look at his long, lean lower half.

She couldn't breathe. She made some sort of squeak and she heard him laugh in appreciation. Then he was standing at the side of her car.

"Hello there." His voice was deep and dangerous. His voice was the sound of sin. And then she watched as the devil himself put his hand on her door latch.

"I think I've got something you want"

Oh God, she couldn't look into his eyes. If she looked at him, it would be all over for her. She'd plummet into the abyss.

But all she could think was: One slice… one slice… for the rest of my life… one puny, stingy, dried-up slice of sex…

"Do you want it, baby?"

She felt the hook pulling her, turning her head, and the car door was opening, and she placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet and she tried, she tried so hard not to raise her eyes to his, but suddenly he shut the door behind her and backed her up against it.

"Everything you need is right here in my front pocket."

His body was hot and hard and she kept her gaze downcast in order to avoid those dark eyes. Unfortunately, she'd somehow picked the junction of his pelvis and her stomach on which to fix her stare.

She knew there was no way she was going to get out of this in one piece.

"All you have to do is reach in and pull it out."

She wished he'd stop talking. His words were too hot and too sexual and she was getting a little dizzy.

He probably did this to women all the time.

He was obviously the kind of man who chewed up females and spit them out The kind of man she'd always avoided. The exact opposite of Kurt Tasker, who was going to be her husband.

One measly slice…

She raised her chin, looked way up, and swore she heard a loud click as her eyes connected with his.

"It's yours if you want it."

He was probably a few years older than her, but not many. His skin was a smooth, rich olive. She wondered if he had Hispanic ancestry. He might be in the military- his hair was buzzed that short, and he held himself like he meant business. She watched his smooth lips spread into a wide smile, revealing a set of straight white teeth.

Or maybe he was a male model.

Then he pushed a little harder against her, and it was suddenly clear that this was not a game and this was not a fantasy and that she may have just done something that would turn her into a newspaper headline.

"I know kung fu," she lied.

"Lucky him," he replied.

"Don't hurt me."

The man laughed at that, bringing his hands to the sides of her face. He gently caressed her cheek with one set of hot, rough fingers. "I'm one of the good guys." Then he softly touched her hair. "Besides. You're just about the sweetest little piece I've ever laid eyes on."

That did it. She was horribly offended. And really, really turned on. Her brain was boiling and her body was catching fire, because Kurt had never said anything that impolite to her. He told her she was beautiful and he called her sweetie and told her he loved and respected her, but nothing like this.

"Ask me for it, dumplin'."

The words were forming in her mind. Her mouth was opening. Her lungs were providing the air…

"Give it to me," she said.

One of his eyebrows shot up. "You talking about your little notebook, or something else?"

She liked this teasing. Kurt didn't tease her. Apparently, teasing excited her. A lot

She pressed her hips against him.

"Something else," she whispered. His hands had taken a slow, hot slide down her neck, along the slope of her bare shoulders, down her arms, and he'd just laced his fingers into hers. His hands were huge.

"Tell me more."

Oh God. This was it; It was finally going to happen to her. She was finally going to know.

"I want to have sexual relations with you."

The man laughed, and her heart sank. That had probably sounded like something a virgin about to get her nursing degree would say. Because that's exactly what she was. She turned her face away in embarrassment.

"You are a wild little thing, aren't you?"

That made her turn back around, and she was in such shock from those words that all she could do was nod her head in silence.

The man scanned the parking lot, released one of her hands, and pulled, her toward the trees near the overlook. She followed, stepping over brambles in her sandals, trying not to think too much, trying to be brave, feeling the thud of her heart in her throat.

He stopped under a big tree already in full leaf. He turned to her and tugged on her hands as he lowered himself to the ground. He sat, leaning his back against the tree trunk, and smiled up at her.

She was confused. What did he want her to do?

"Straddle me."

She sat on him, her legs spread over his, and she looked down at her bare thighs against his jeans and for the first time worried about what she was wearing. A peach-colored tank top and a pair of camp shorts-certainly nothing revealing. She wondered if they'd take their clothes off or stay mostly dressed.

"I want to see every inch of that beautiful little body of yours," the man said, running the fingers of one hand down her tummy, then hooking them inside the waistband of her shorts.

She nearly swooned.

Kurt had put his fingers in her several times. It had never been enough. Nowhere near enough.

"What's your name, baby?"

That question sliced through the brain fog and caused her to gasp. Panic cut through her. She tried to get up, but he put his hands on her hips and held her in place.

"Look, it's okay if you don't-"

"I don't have a name and neither do you, all right?" she snapped.