He grinned. "Good morning, sweetheart," he said cheerfully.

Go to hell, Nichols. Clenching her teeth, she lengthened her stride.

His long, muscular legs easily and effortlessly kept him by her side. "Beautiful day, don't cha think?"

It was until you snowed up. Taking a quick detour, she jogged up a grassy knoll, leaving him momentarily behind.

Deep laughter rippled along her nerves, men he was beside her again, undaunted by her obvious attempts to elude him. "Can't say I mind being behind every once in a while. The view is quite nice."

He continued to jog beside her and talk to her, heedless of the fact that she wasn't responding. She kept hoping if she ignored him he'd go away.

No such luck. He was in a great mood. They passed an old lady sitting on a bench feeding the pigeons, and Grey winked and wished her a good morning. As they jogged around a man-made lake he picked up a fly-away Frisbee and flicked it back to the little girl who owned it. He was being entirely too nice, and she silently cursed him for making their breakup so difficult. Why couldn't he be a cretin, as she'd learned Richard could be?

Her final date with Richard the previous night had come to a nasty conclusion, with him expecting something a little more than a thank-you for their time together. And when she'd told him she didn't sleep with men she'd only known a few weeks, he'd spouted a few choice words, then had left in a huff.

"You know, I have to say you're getting good, sweetheart," Grey teased. "Usually by now you're passed out on the curbside."

His subtle jibe provoked her. On impulse, she hooked her foot around his ankle and tripped him. He stumbled and fell to the grass with a string of curses.

Grinning and enjoying her small victory, she turned around and jogged backward so she could look at him. In her sweetest voice, she said, "My, Grey, when did you get so clumsy?"

Faster than a lithe panther, he sprang back up. A determined, you're-gonna-pay look glinted in his eyes. Her heart gave a frantic leap of apprehension. Knowing she was in big trouble, she whirled back around and ran as fast as her legs would allow.

She was no match for his speed and agility. He anchored an arm around her waist, throwing her off balance. With a shriek, she twisted and grabbed a handful of Grey's shirt for support. She fell anyway, pulling him down with her. He swore and grappled to cushion her fall. He managed to cradle her head in his hand so it didn't hit the ground, but he ended up sprawled on top of her, their faces inches apart.

Mariah was instantly aware of his hard body, slick with perspiration against her own sun-warmed skin. His chest crushed her breasts beneath her thin tank top, and his musky scent filled every breath she struggled to take. The heat he created threatened to consume her. She squirmed for freedom.

He cocked a brow and kept her pinned. "Clumsy, eh? And when did you get such a smart mouth?"

His gaze focused on the mouth in question, his eyes darkening. Alarm bells went off in her head. If she didn't do something fast he was going to kiss her, and if his lips so much as touched hers she didn't know whether or not she had the strength to stop him. God, did she have no shame when it came to him?

His dark lashes lowered, along with his parted lips. She turned her head just as his mouth landed on her cheek. Except that didn't deter him. His lips slid along her jaw, nuzzled her neck, while his body arched subtly, intimately into hers.

Biting back a groan of pure need, she wound her fingers through his thick, damp hair, and gently but firmly pulled his head back. "I suggest," she began in a voice more steely than she felt, "that you get off me before I scream my head off and have you arrested for assault."

His mouth curled into a smile. "Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" he drawled huskily. "Or just in the wrong bed?"

"Get…off…me." Her low, precise tone held warning.

That dark brow remained cocked but he didn't argue. Slowly-oh, so slowly-he slid off her and stood, then offered her a hand.

Furious with him, she slapped away his help. "You have some nerve!" She gave into the urge and walloped him one in the chest. Her fist bounced off honed muscles and he didn't even flinch. "If you so much as touch me again, I won't be responsible for my actions."

Frowning, he rubbed the spot she'd punched. "You're mad at me."

She released a low growl of frustration and stomped away, certain if she remained near him she'd do more bodily damage. "You catch on quick, Nichols!"

He caught up to her but wisely didn't touch her. "What did I do?"

She stopped. She was still breathing hard, from running and Grey's sensual attack. The second one in as many days. "You know damn well what you did!"

He jammed his hands on his lean hips and tipped his head. "You talking about last night?"

"Yes!" You dolt!

A little smirk touched his mouth. "Oh, that." His tone was rough and sexy at the same time.

"Yes, 'that,'" she repeated heatedly. She tried not to think about the incredible, erotic fantasy he'd fulfilled and failed miserably. "Not only 'that,' but you walked away!"

He slowly swiped the back of his wrist across his sweaty forehead, his eyes golden and immensely pleased. "Is that what's bothering you? That I walked away afterward?"

"Ooh!" The enraged sound rumbled in her chest. The man's arrogance was showing, and the thing was, he was damn sexy anyway. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. "You seduced me deliberately!"

His expression shifted, showing her his serious side. "I can't stand the thought of you sleeping with another man."

He sounded and looked so vulnerable she wanted to weep. "It's not up to you to decide who I sleep with, Grey. Not anymore. And you have no right to…to…"

"Make love to you?" he offered. They hadn't consummated the act, but it had been just as intimate, if not more so because of their covert setting.

"Yes!" There weren't many people in the park, but the few that were around turned and stared at them. She gave them a wan smile.

Grey lowered his voice in deference to their audience. "I didn't hear that mouth of yours say no. Not once. And I didn't do half of what I wanted to."

She gasped. She couldn't help herself, because the images his words projected in her mind were shocking. He was so bad! "You didn't give me a chance to say no! You knew exactly what you were doing the day you sent me that package from P.J.'s."

"Ah, P.J.'s," he murmured reflectively. Standing with legs apart, he folded his arms across his chest and stroked his chin with his fingers. His eyes sparkled wickedly. "I quite enjoyed shopping for you there. And you weren't opposed to wearing what I sent." He perused the length of her lazily, visually stripping away her tank top and cotton shorts and leaving her breathless as a result. "As far as I was concerned, the moment I realized you were wearing the stockings I sent, you were mine."

"That is so chauvinistic!"

He shrugged. "It's the truth. I know you better than you think. You might have attended the party with Richard, but your heart and mind were with me all the way. And I don't think I have to remind you how hot your body was…for me."

He played dirty, getting her right where she was most defenseless. Unable to believe they were having this argument in a public park, she started in the direction of her condo. "You're crazy," she said, shaking her head.

He caught her arm. "Crazy for you, just like you're crazy for me." His gaze pierced her to her soul. "Look me in the eyes and deny it."

She couldn't. Any denial she might have spouted lodged in her throat and her gaze couldn't quite meet his. The fingers around her arms branded her, and when he brushed his thumb across the soft flesh of her inner elbow, she shivered.

He continued on ruthlessly. "You wore that garter belt and those stockings with the butterfly on the ankle because you wanted me to see it, think of you wearing it and drive me wild."

Again, she couldn't deny his claim. A part of her had done just that.

"Well, it worked, Mariah," he said, a hint of challenge in his tone. "You looked damned sexy last night and Richard was looking to score. And I thought of you leaving with him, and him seeing you in the lingerie I sent, touching you, and I couldn't stand it. You're mine, Mariah."

"You're being obsessive," she said on a low hiss of breath. "You treated me like a possession last night, and I resent that!"

"I treated you exactly the way you wanted to be treated." She opened her mouth to issue a retort, but he plowed on. "Maybe your mind is saying we're through, but your body feels differently. Last night proved it."

Her body, unfortunately, had been fine-tuned for Grey's touch, no one else's. Overwhelmed by everything, she squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten, feeling no more relaxed.

Grey let go of her arm and pushed his fingers through his tousled hair. "I can't believe you're wasting your time with this guy."

She didn't bother telling him she'd broken things off with Richard the night before. "Just like I wasted time with you?"

His mouth stretched into a grim line, and she would have sworn she'd seen a flash of hurt in his eyes. "Is that how you really feel about us?"

No, she thought, her heart aching for everything they'd shared. I loved every minute we spent together, and I'll treasure it always. But I can't go on like this, without a firm commitment and the promise of stability.

Swallowing the words and the rush of emotion rising to the surface, she started to walk away.