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wanted more
of that touch. She had wanted more of him. And she had told him so,
adding, " I love you, Jesse ."

She had startled him—she had seen the surprise on his face as the wind
and rain pelted them. Then
finally he had smiled softly, gently.

"I love you, too, Katie, but I don't
love you like that. Besides, I'd only hurt you. It's my job to protect
you from guys like me."

"I don't want you to protect me. I
want you to love me. You and me, we're meant to be together."

He had squeezed her hand, though he was careful to keep a distance
between them they'd never had before, then he pulled her down from the
tree. He had left for college the next morning and never returned for
any length of time, proving her wrong.

Now he was back, holding her close as they danced, the feel of his hard
body as thrilling as it had been that night she slipped into his bed.
But what, she wondered, did she want to do about it?

Better sense told her to steer clear of this man. But all of a sudden,
she was tired of better sense.

Excitement and determination ticked to life at the realization of just
what she planned to do.
    * * *
    An hour and
a half later, Jesse
rolled down the long drive to the back of the house. As soon as he
braked and put the Jeep in gear, Gwen Randolph leaned across the
console and kissed him.
"Mmmm," the blonde murmured. "I've missed you. I hope you're not angry
that I followed you to Texas."

"I haven't been here a week."

"A single day is a long time away from you. Besides, what was I to do
when you weren't answering your messages? I called your dad and he
didn't have a clue where you were. You haven't even returned Hal's
calls, you naughty boy. I can't believe you're avoiding me, your
father, and your golf coach when you have the PGA coming up. I have all
sorts of media scheduled for you. Everyone is dying to talk to you
about your heroics. I decided it was only good business to fly out here
and tell you myself."

Hell, who would have known that being a hero would be so hard?

The fact was, he wasn't a hero. He had done what he had to do. When the
woman collapsed in front
of him, he had revived her instead of standing there and watching her
die. Hard to think of that as heroic—just necessary. And the last thing
he wanted was to talk about it. Which was exactly why he
had driven halfway across the country and was avoiding his publicist's
calls.

"Gwen, I've already said I'm not interested in interviews right now."

He pressed back against the leather seat, and she must have sensed that
she had overstepped her boundaries. She cooed and stroked his jaw. "I'm
sorry, baby. Let Gwen make it better."

Leaning closer, she put one delicate finger on his chin and turned him
toward her. The long French-manicured nail trailed low as she kissed
him with an expertise that was matched only by her
ability to get his photograph in every major print publication in the
United States and Europe. Gwen Randolph had single-handedly turned
Jesse from an up-and-coming golfer in a sport that wasn't all that
popular, to a media star. And it was that status that had gotten the
top agents in the country interested
in representing him. This despite the fact that while he had won plenty
of tournaments, he had never brought home a single one of the majors'
trophies.

So he owed Gwen. He knew it. But more and more, the casual affair they
had started had become less and less casual, and he wasn't interested
in being serious with any woman.

He started to set Gwen back, but before he could, her hand slid down
his chest and then lower until
she cupped him. Instantly, he hardened, his breath sucked in.

"See, Gwen knows how to make her Jesse happy."

His body came to life, and the fact was he didn't want to think
tonight, not about golf or the mounting pressure for him to win the PGA
Championship.

Which is why he gave in when Gwen's hand slid expertly against him.
"Let's go inside," he stated gruffly.

Helping her out of the SUV, he led her