Intending to knock on one of the back doors, she headed toward them only to stop when she saw a half-empty bottle of expensive scotch on a nearby table. At the sound of someone bouncing with a vengeance on the diving board, she turned just as a pair of long, tanned, muscular legs disappeared into the water.

“Zach?”

He didn’t answer, of course, because he was underwater and speeding like a dark torpedo toward the shallow end. When she heard more splashing, she walked to the edge where the water lapped against the stairs. Centering her white heels precisely on one of the large navy tiles that bordered the pool, she waited for him to come up for air.

He was fast. Obviously, he’d stayed in shape since he’d been on the swim team in high school.

Oh, my God. He was naked!

Suppressing a cry at that realization, she saw his clothes discarded untidily on the far side of the pool. Still, instead of turning and fleeing, she stopped and stood her ground. Her nervous state was such that she felt it took him forever to surface.

Thankfully, since he was in the water, when he did stand up, she couldn’t see much of his lower body, but his perfect, muscular, wetly gleaming, tanned torso stimulated her overactive imagination anyway.

He shook his wet black head, flinging droplets of water all over her.

“Hey!” she cried, stepping even farther back.

He scowled up at her in shock even as his black eyes greedily raked her with male interest. Grinning, he made no effort to sink lower in the water or cover himself. “Why am I even surprised?”

“I knocked,” she said defensively as hot color rose in her cheeks. “On your front door.”

“Did you really?”

A warm breeze caressed her cheek. She looked anywhere except at his wide, dark chest and muscular arms. Even so, she was aware of his height, of his taut stomach and of that dark strip of hair running down his middle and disappearing into the water.

“You didn’t answer,” she said.

“A lot of women…women who weren’t looking for trouble…would have just left.”

“I…I’m not looking for trouble.”

“Well, you damn sure found it.”

“I have to know what you’re going to do about Tuck.”

“Since you’re obviously determined we’re going to have a chat on that subject, maybe you’d be so kind as to get me a towel out of the bathhouse. Since I thought I was alone, I didn’t think I’d need one. Or… Do I-need one?”

“Yes!” she cried. “You most certainly do!”

He laughed.

Thankful for something to do other than trying to avoid looking at his amused and much-too-sexy face, she all but flew to the bathhouse. Returning quickly, she set the fluffy, folded rectangle on the edge of the pool. Patting it primly, she turned her back on him.

Water splashed as his bare feet thudded across concrete. She felt her body warm as she listened to him towel off, visualizing his tall bronzed body behind her without a stitch on.

He was certainly taking his time. Was he trying to tempt her into turning around? She wanted to turn. Thankfully, she resisted. Surely he’d had time to secure the towel, but another intolerable minute passed.

Finally, as if sensing her impatience and interest in his physique, he chuckled and said, “It’s safe for you to turn around now.”

But it wasn’t. Not when his fierce black eyes devoured her, obviously reading her wicked desires. Not when he wore only that towel and they both knew he was naked and gorgeous and completely male underneath it.

She wished she didn’t feel so keenly alive every time she was anywhere near him. She wished she wasn’t drawn by his tanned arms and bare chest, that she didn’t remember lying with him as a girl after they’d made love and nuzzling that dark strip that vanished beneath the thick folds of his towel.

Oh, how she’d loved him that night after he’d made love to her. Like a foolish child, she’d thought he belonged to her, that he would always be hers.

Maybe he would have-if she’d fought Thurman and the town. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel as she did right now, as if she was starving for love.

“You’ve got guts to come out here all alone. Aren’t you scared of what I might do to you?”

Her heartbeat accelerated. She didn’t fully understand her motives. She’d just known that she couldn’t let him bully her, and that she couldn’t stand by and let Tuck be hurt because of her past sins.

Moving closer to him to prove her bravery, she said, “You ran away. Maybe you’re the one who’s scared of me.”

He flushed darkly. “And then again, sweetheart…maybe not.”

Sweetheart. The word ripped her heart. In the past, he’d always said the endearment so tenderly it took her breath away. Today, his voice was harsh with irony.

Before she knew what was happening, his hand snaked toward her, and he yanked her against his body, which was wet and warm and as hard as steel.

Her heart leaped into her throat as she caught the faint scent of scotch on his breath. Too late, she wondered how much he’d drunk.

“I wasn’t scared of you, you little fool. I was scared of me. Of what I might be tempted to do if I didn’t get away from you. Then you come here…and deliberately invade my privacy. You tempt me…into this, into holding you again. Sweetheart, you’re playing with fire.”

Again too late, she realized he hadn’t had time to swim off any of the liquor he’d drunk.

“Well,” she hedged, “I…I see you were right… And I was wrong. Maybe it would be smarter to set up another meeting tomorrow morning, as you suggested.”

Echoing her thoughts, he said, “It’s too late for such a sensible decision. You came here because you want something from me, and you want it very badly. You saw I was naked. You knew you were alone with me and you stayed. Since I told you I still wanted you, maybe you thought if you excited me again, I’d be easier to deal with.”

“No!”

“Hey, don’t back down. You were right. It’s good for your cause that you’re here. As it turns out, I know exactly what I want from you. I was just fighting the temptation earlier.”

Oh, God.

“I didn’t stay because you weren’t dressed…and I thought I could manipulate you…or whatever horrible thing you think I was up to.”

His swift grin was savage. “You’ve always been good at pretending. Like back in high school-when your stepfather bullied you into graduating early, you pretended you wanted what he wanted. He wanted you to be a teacher because he thought that was a respectable career for a woman. Did you ever once tell him how important theater was to you before you starred in Grease and made him so angry at the end of your senior year? You dated me behind his back, too, because you knew he wouldn’t approve. And when he hung me out to dry, you lied to everybody in this town about me. Your whole life was a lie. So, you’d damn sure lie now.”

“No…”

“I think you’ve gone on lying to yourself for years. You know how I know? Because I’ve been doing the same thing. In my arrogance, I thought you’d taught me such a bitter lesson I was immune to women like you…and to you specifically. Until I kissed you…”

She swallowed, suddenly not liking the way he was holding her, or the way he was looking at her with that big-bad-wolf grin.

“I’d better go.”

“You’re so damned beautiful.” He was staring at her as if she were a puzzle. “How can you look so innocent? I have enough money to buy practically anything, anybody, I want and I usually do. I want you. Why should I deny myself?”

Drawing her closer, he reached up and gently brushed away the lock of blond hair that feathered against her skin.

Her tummy flipped. Tenderness from him was the last thing she’d expected, and it caused hot, unwanted excitement to course through her.

He smelled of chlorine and sunlight, scotch and of his own clean male scent, which somehow she’d never forgotten. All of it together intoxicated her.

Her reaction frightened her. When she tried to back away, his grip on her wrist tightened.

“I want you to move in with me for a while. I want to figure out this thing that’s still between us.”

“Impossible!” He wanted sex. He just wasn’t going to say it. “There’s nothing between us.”

Again, she tried to jerk free, but his hand and body were granite hard.

“You’re such a liar. Before we kissed, I would have agreed. I wanted to believe that,” he said. “But unlike you, I’m uncomfortable lying to myself.”

“I’m under contract in New York. I’ve got an opening night in eight weeks. We’re going to be rehearsing, and I have several scenes to shoot for a movie in L.A. My calendar is full. Crammed.”

“So reschedule.”

“I have commitments, a life… Other people are involved. Producers, my director, the rest of the cast.”

“Odd-you failed to mention your movie-star boyfriend… Hugh, I believe?” His eyes darkened.

“Yes! Of course-Hugh. We’re in the same film.”

Zach’s grim smile held no satisfaction. “And you think I don’t have someone special or plenty on my plate?”

Someone special.

The thought of him having a girlfriend he truly cared about tugged painfully at her heart-which was ridiculous!

“Even I, who know next to nothing about the theater world, have heard the term understudy,” he continued. “Reschedule.”

“I hate you.”

“Good. We’re on the same page.” His voice was harsh. “You’ll live here, with me, weekends only-until your opening night. I don’t care how you live the rest of the week. Or with whom. I’ll be commuting here from Houston.”

“I have to know exactly what you want from me,” she whispered.

“I’m a man. You’re a woman. Use your imagination.”

“This is crazy.”

“You forget, I’m a gambler. Ever since you pulled your little stunt and nearly destroyed me, I’ve gotten to where I am by operating on my gut. If I feel like it’s right to go ahead with a deal, I do…whether or not I have all the facts to support my decision. Even if the facts tell me it might be the wrong thing to do-as in your case-I do it. It’s worked for me so far.”