Brogan Byrne never ceased to stun her afresh every time she laid eyes on him. It had been almost a week since they had seen each other, but somehow it seemed longer. They had to part. Carly had thought of nothing else since Montreal. Oh, God, the night in her suite… it never left her thoughts. In fact, what they shared had such an impact on her heart and soul she needed more time to think and consider her next move, if there was one. She pasted a non-committal smile on her face.

"What are your plans?"

"Spend some time with my brothers. Write some music. Stay sober. Not necessarily in that order," Byrne said.

They stared at each other, not knowing what else to say. She would be keeping in contact with Byrne by phone, but it wouldn't be the same. The last month they had been in each other's pocket. She was surprised to find she would miss his cute, tight Irish ass.

Byrne laughed and backed her up against the wall. "Remember this? Maybe you want to put a vise grip on my balls again." His voice was light, teasing.

Carly laughed in return, but his nearness affected her anew. Her fingers lightly touched his arm. "You were a pig that night."

Byrne's voice softened. "Aye, I know. I'm sorry, Carly. I'm sorry for a lot of things. I couldn't have got through this without you. Thank you." He moved closer. "For everything."

It seemed like good-bye, a permanent one. She didn't like it. Her hand trailed up his arm and caressed the ridges of his wool sweater. The muscles clenched underneath her touch. God, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

"Carly, what are you thinking about? Are you thinking about our first kiss on the beach, or are you thinking you want to kiss me right now?"

Arrogant rock star bastard. He was right.

"Kiss me. Kiss me now." His voice sounded husky, the invitation too good to pass up.

She gazed up into his eyes. There were swirls of intense passion mixed in with the greenish-brown colors. They were clear, alert, and also swimming with desire. The heat, the need, and the fucking want. He pulled her closer, and her hand went to his shoulder to steady herself, for her knees shook. Byrne cupped her ass through the leather skirt and brought her in tight against him. He was hard. Very hard. He rolled his hips so she got the message. She did.

"Kiss me—"

Slowly she rose up on her toes, and her lips moved closer.

They kissed. Deeply, thoroughly, and it was as earth-shaking as their previous kisses. Except this one had a hint of sadness mixed in as they were parting. Carly tasted every inch of his mouth, caressed with her tongue, wrapped it around his and pulled him deeper. She didn't want it to end. The kiss went on and on. Her lips were swollen and red from his aggressive kisses. Byrne would push, demand, then back off, and the kiss would be tender and gentle, then demanding in its desire again. Talk about a damned roller coaster. Finally, she pulled away. Her lips skimmed his chin. Byrne stepped back. It was over.

"Well. Not bad. Better than a vise-grip to the bollocks."

Byrne wanted to pretend the kiss meant nothing. A part of her throbbed with hurt, but she smiled nonetheless, though she imagined the smile did not go all the way to her eyes.

"It was all right, as kisses go."

"You take care, Carly."

"Yeah, you too, Byrne. Stay out of trouble."

She watched him stride away. Carly wanted to call him back and throw herself in his arms, but she wouldn't. Her pride wouldn't let her. The time wasn't right for them, and she knew it deep in her heart. Maybe it would never be right, and that was what hurt most of all.

Carly headed toward Ocean City. The drive was a little over three hours from her apartment in Baltimore, so she left at the crack of dawn. She sat behind the wheel of her brand new 1975 Mustang II, a bonus from Nigel for her work with Brogan Byrne. The car rode like a dream and seemed easy on gas, a plus during this energy crisis. It was a cool, late fall day and slightly overcast. She had the heater turned on low as she headed to the coast. The radio played top forty rock softly in the background.

She was nervous as hell. Carly had talked to Byrne exactly twice since their kiss good-bye in the Cascade offices in September. Both conversations were polite and professional. He'd called three days ago to inform her he was back from his court appearance in Toronto. She had offered to go with him, but he had politely refused.

Byrne wouldn't have a record, and she was relieved. He was on probation and had to pay a small fine. The judge also issued a stern warning. Byrne said he would tell her more when she arrived. She had packed a small overnight bag, wishful thinking perhaps as he had given no invitation for her to stay. There were lots of hotels along the highway, and she didn't fancy a three-hour drive home in the dark.

"(I've Been) Searching so Long" by Chicago played on the radio. The ballad was perfect background music for her thoughts. She had been searching for an answer. Just what were her feelings toward Byrne? Carly had thought of little else since they parted. Maybe it meant more to her than it did him. He was a man, after all, and a rock star. She'd never had these feelings before, the need to be with someone always and to protect them and to care.

Fate could be cruel. The next song was Byrne 'N' Flame's rock ballad "I'm on Fire." She had purposely avoided Byrne's music since they parted. His crystal clear voice soared and cut her heart clean in two. She wiped the tears from her eyes. Damn him for making her feel.

"The time is now, how I need you, love…" A sob escaped her lips. She reached to snap the radio off, but she couldn't. His voice had her in a trance. How many women did he do this to? It certainly explained why he was famous, why women fell at his feet, and why she had walked away. She had to protect her heart. As soon as he called and asked her to come to his beach house, Carly found she couldn't say no. He had things to discuss. He wouldn't elaborate. Damn her curious nature, but she had to know.

She picked up the piece of paper she had scribbled directions to his house on. After a multitude of twists and turns she was on a private drive sitting before an imposing wrought iron gate. Carly turned off the motor, climbed out of the car and hit the buzzer on the intercom.

"Yes?"

Oh, there was no mistaking his sinful, melting chocolate voice. "It's Carly—Carly Montgomery." She cringed, like who else would it be unless Carly Simon came to call. Wouldn't be surprised.

"Come ahead."

The high-pitched buzzer nearly burst her eardrum, so she scrambled back into the car and started the motor as the gates rumbled open. She drove up the hill and gasped as the house came into view. The home wasn't overly large but was very impressive. The two-story building had a light gray brick exterior. Floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded most of the lower level. The structure had a sloping white roof, and overlooked the ocean. The grounds were immaculate. Obviously a landscaping crew tended to the property. She pulled in next to a dark green MGB and turned off her motor. Carly took a couple of deep breaths, and then slowly exhaled. Yeah, she was nervous. Maybe he'd called her here to dump her as his manager.

She shook her head, grabbed her purse, and climbed out of the car. The sounds of the ocean and the bracing salt air breeze slammed her senses as soon as she opened the car door. God, she loved the sea. She headed toward the double door entrance, her heels clicking on the marble walkway. Before she could even knock, one of the white wood doors swung open. Carly gasped aloud. She hardly recognized Byrne. The shoulder-length white and black hair was no more. He had it cut into a long shag that stopped at his collar. The hair was a glorious deep brunet, the color of freshly brewed coffee. He wore crisply pressed dark brown slacks with russet dress boots. A white shirt lay open halfway down his chest, while a beige wool cardigan sweater completed the neat, casual appearance. His signature Celtic cross dangled between his impressive pectorals. He had put on a few healthy pounds. Gone was the haunted, gaunt look he'd had on tour.