“Whatever the lady wants.” He released her, but only long enough to yank her dress down over her hips. Her bra slipped off, leaving her standing there in one sandal, an ankle bracelet, and a pair of waist-high white cotton panties.

“You sure don’t believe in spending your money on fancy underwear.”

Her confidence dissolved and all the old ghosts were back. She grabbed for her dress to cover herself, but before she could reach it, he had picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. As he dropped her onto the bed, her lone sandal flew.

He loomed over her, and he was no longer a fantasy figure, but a real man stripping off his denim shirt, revealing an alarmingly well-developed chest with bulging pectorals, mountainous biceps, and veins standing out like ropes on his arms. A thick pelt of hair in the middle of his chest tapered into an arrow-straight line that disappeared along a hard, flat stomach into the waistband of his jeans.

She knew that he worked out in the weight room every day, and she’d seen him do laps around the field in the evening, but she still wasn’t prepared for his powerfully muscled body. All thoughts of young Elizabeth fled from her mind. She felt like an eighteen-year-old virgin instead of a thirty-three-year-old woman who’d had both too many and too few lovers. She had set herself up to play with a pro when she couldn’t even handle the amateurs.

His eyes were on her breasts as he unsnapped his jeans. She grabbed for the edge of the bedspread.

“Drop it.”

“No, I’m not doing this.” She drew the corner of the quilted fabric to her chin at the same time she slid to the opposite side of the bed.

“Right on schedule.” Reaching down, he snared her ankle and sent her sprawling back against the pillows.

She let out a soft, strangled exclamation. The deadly sense of purpose in those ice green eyes sent fear rushing through her. She remembered his strength when he’d dragged her to the gazebo, and she clutched at the bedspread as her only protection.

“Please, Dan . . .” Her voice sounded helpless instead of strong, and she knew she had lost all control.

“You were the one who wanted fun and games.”

“I didn’t. I—”

“Shut up.” He unzipped his jeans. “Now show me those tits again.”

His rough vulgarity galvanized her. She spun away from him toward the opposite side of the bed, thrusting her legs out from under the twisted spread. She was off the bed and running toward the door. Dimly, she heard him grumbling from behind her.

“I’m getting too old for this.”

She snatched up a damp towel he’d tossed on a chair after his shower and frantically raced into the living room for the door. Just as she yanked it open, he slapped it shut again with the palm of his hand.