"No, those drivers are skilled, but they have no spontaneity. I'm much better at street driving than they are. Did I mention I was once a stunt driver in Hollywood?"

"No, you didn't. You said you were once an EMT driver. What else?"

"Oh, all kinds of things," he said vaguely as he started the boat. "I like change." He shot her a glance. "And I'm not like Grady or you, who are shackled by that psychic stuff. I do what I like and let other people tote the heavy burdens."

"How nice for you. But I have no intention of being shackled by anything but my own will. I chose medicine and that's what I intend to do."

"Good for you." He gunned the boat. "Then I only have to feel sorry for Grady."

GRADY WAS WAITING FOR THEM when their chartered flight landed at a small airport in Chantilly, a short distance outside Paris.

Megan felt the familiar tension tighten her muscles as she watched him cross the tarmac toward their plane. The wind was blowing his jeans and navy blue sweater against his lean body and there was something …different about him. Before he had given the impression of contained power, but now his stride was purposeful and charged with energy. The power was present but it was no longer contained. It was channeled, flowing, ready to ignite. She instinctively braced herself as if to combat that energy.

"It's okay," Harley murmured, studying her expression. "You can handle him."

Of course, she could. And that change in Grady's demeanor could be her imagination. She nodded, rose to her feet, and headed for the exit. "No doubt about it. He just looks primed."

"He's in action mode. He usually does." Harley followed her down the aisle. "But maybe not this much..."

"Any problems?" Grady asked Harley as he helped Megan from the plane. "A tail in Stockholm. I got rid of him."

"By driving like someone from an old Steve McQueen movie," Megan said dryly.

"I'm better than that," Harley protested. "That stunt driver would never have managed to shake that tail. He was pretty good." He glanced at Grady. "What next?"

"I've made reservations at an inn nearby. I've arranged for one of the cottages on the grounds. We'll stay there while you go check everything out."

Harley nodded. "I'm on my way. I'll rent a car and start tonight." He headed for the tiny terminal at the end of the runway. "Get her something to eat. She wouldn't have anything but peanuts on that flight from Atlanta." He grinned back over his shoulder at Megan. "I wouldn't want anyone to think I hadn't delivered you in tip-top shape. I take pride in my work."

"Whatever it is?" She made a face. "Now you're acting like a mother hen. I don't believe that was one of your previous occupations."

"God, no. Now that's scary. Much too much responsibility."

She found herself smiling as she watched him disappear into the terminal. Harley was odd and quirky and not like anyone she had ever met but she felt more at ease with him than she did with people she had known for years.

"You like him." Grady's gaze was fastened on her face. "It doesn't surprise me. Most people gravitate toward Harley."

"Gravitate? That's a strange word to use."

He shrugged. "It fits. He draws people to him like a sun does a planet."

"I think he'd laugh at that simile." She smiled. "Or maybe not. He'd probably be flattered and take it as his due."

"You did manage to get to know Harley well on the way here." He took her elbow and nudged her toward the waiting car. "I believe I'm a little jealous."

She shot him a skeptical glance. "And I believe you're lying to me. Why?"

"Because I'm detecting a hint of intimacy. For the past twelve years I've been the one living intimately with you." He stared directly into her eyes. "I don't like anyone else coming that close."

She felt a surge of heat move through her. His words had come out of nowhere, surprising her. So had her response to those words. "You may have been living intimately with me but it was completely one-sided. And do you think I haven't had genuine intimate relations with other men during those years?"

"Oh, yes. One of them was a lukewarm affair during your sophomore year in college. It didn't bother me at all. The other was with that young Latin boy. What was his name? Julio something." His lips thinned.

"Now your going to bed with him bothered the hell out of me. You were feeling too much. It was a cross between screwing you myself and erotic voyeurism. It was disturbing as the devil. After that I had to find a way to close myself off from you during intimate moments."

Her cheeks were stinging as the color flooded them. "Are you trying to embarrass me? Stop talking like this. You're almost a stranger to me."

"Almost." He opened the door of the car for her. "But that's the key word. You knew me very well that summer on the beach."

"I thought I did." She got into the car. "What are you doing, Grady? What are you up to?"

"My, how suspicious you are. You said you wanted me to be honest and aboveboard with you. I'm merely obliging."

And exerting that charisma and sexuality that had drawn her to him all those years ago. "Why now?"

"Because we're going to be very close in the next few weeks. I want to get everything out in the open so that you can focus. I don't intend for anything to get in the way. There's only one element that could cause immediate trouble." He got in the car and started the engine. "And there can't be any distracting subtle undercurrents. Sometimes they can be worse than—" He broke off as he backed out of the parking space. "You don't want to hear this, so I'll cut it short. I want to go to bed with you. I'd like to do everything that Medera kid did to you and more. From the moment I caught sight of you at the zoo, I wanted it to happen. Hell, maybe before."

She couldn't speak for a moment. "You're right," she finally said unsteadily. "I don't want to hear this."

"I'm almost through. If you see me looking at you as if I want to jump you, it's because I do. You're not going to have to wonder or worry about what I want or what move I'll make if you give me a chance. That part of me is purely basic and entirely selfish." He drove out of the parking lot into the street. "On the other hand, your primary value to me isn't between your legs. I'm not going to jeopardize having your help just to drag you into bed."

She tried to keep her voice level. "Are you done?"

"Yes. Is that aboveboard enough for you?"

If you could call being in the middle of a red-hot oven above-board, she thought. The rawness of his words could have offended her. Instead, they had aroused her. She was tingling, short of breath, and her body was readying. Memories of the Grady she had known that summer and this other Grady; darker, more dangerous, more experienced, seemed to blend and become one.

"Frank enough." His dark eyes were glittering in his lean face, holding her own. Her mother had compared him to a Renaissance prince and she could see it at this moment. The sensual curve of his lips, the hollowed cheeks, the expression that was as knowing as it was passionately intense. She quickly looked away from him. "It doesn't bother me that you want to go to bed with me as long as you don't try to rape me. If you did, I'd knock your socks off. Now may we talk about something else?"