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run around the park. But if she thought she could run him out of her system, she was truly mistaken. With each step she took, she surreptitiously peeked over her shoulder, expecting, even hoping, that Justin would step from behind a tree to kiss her breathless once more. She swore she saw his face in every other man she passed. She imagined she caught a whiff of his cologne as a group of cyclists sped by. This is crazy, she mused, making the turn back onto her street. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead with her wristband and ran smack into Justin as he stepped out of her front gate.
    â€œWell, good morning,” he greeted, steadying her with a strong grip. “This is a great look for you,” he teased, his eyes roving over her.
    For the first time since she’d been a child, she was self-conscious about her looks. She knew that her dark skin must be about as shiny as a pair of polished shoes. Perspiration ran in rivulets down her face. This is just great, she thought. The very thought that he could have caught her in this very unflattering light suddenly ticked her off and all of her frustration and longing over the past two weeks overflowed.
    She took a step back so that she could look him full in the face. Her eyes narrowed and her neck arched to an arrogant angle. She planted her hands firmly on her flaring hips.
    â€œLet me tell you something…Justin,” she spat out his name with vehemence. “First you come on to me like gangbusters, then you plant yourself in front of my carand scare the hell out of me. Then you kiss me like you’ve known me all your life and follow me home.” And then I don’t hear from you, she wanted to say, but didn’t. “Then you have the audacity to pop up on my doorstep unannounced, and all you have to say is, ‘this is a great look for you’?” She leaned dangerously forward, rising on tiptoe to press home her point. “No, buddy, it doesn’t work like that. Not with me. Maybe this sweet-talking routine of yours has worked in the past, but I’m not buying it,” she concluded in a huff, pointing her finger at him like a dagger.
    The corner of his lip inched up in a grin and she instantly felt her resolve begin to waver. “Well, I guess I deserved that,” he said mildly, seemingly unruffled by her tirade. It took all his willpower to keep from staring at the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. “That’s why I stopped by this morning. I wanted to take you to brunch to make up for being such a…” he peered quizzically at her. “What did you call me again?” He placed his forefinger on his lip in contemplation. “Ah, yes, a gangbuster. Yeah, to make up for coming on like a gangbuster.” Mischief danced in his eyes. “I just don’t know what came over me,” he concluded, all innocence and light. “But most of all,” he took a step closer, “I couldn’t seem to get you out of my head.”
    Vaughn’s shoulders slumped. She expelled a long-held breath and shook her head, but she refused to give in to the smile that threatened to ruin her tough stance. Vaughn cocked her head to the side. “Mr. Montgomery, I hope your pockets are deep, because I’m starved and you have a lot of making up to do.” She spun away and headed for her door. “Wait in your car,” she instructed over her shoulder. “I’ll be out in twenty minutes.”
    â€œOoh, I love it when you talk to me like that,” he called out, amusement rippling through his voice.
    This time Vaughn did give in to the joy that bubbled within her. She laughed all the way up the stairs to her room and didn’t stop until she’d showered, finished dressing in a pair of designer jeans and matching shirt, put on a pair of Italian loafers, and grabbed a navy wool jacket from the hall closet. Just for today, she pledged, slipping into her jacket, I’ll put my