“Do you like it?” He wanted to touch her, hold her, and never let her go.

“It’s beautiful,” she gasped as she gently lifted the delicate gold chain, the jeweled fruit suspended daintily from it. “Where did you find this? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I had it made just for you. A perfect strawberry for my . . . for the most beautiful strawberry blonde in the world.”

“I can’t—I shouldn’t accept it. What will Bobby Jo think?”

“This is something between us. It has nothing to do with my brother.”

“Oh? But I’m going to marry your brother eventually.”

“I know,” he acknowledged, trying desperately to control the sensual yearning that threatened to consume him.

“I have to go in now.”

He leaned toward her. She didn’t move. She wanted to encourage him but knew she didn’t dare. He desired her. That was obvious, but he’d made it very clear that an affair was all he offered.

“One sweet strawberry kiss,” he implored. “Just a good-bye kiss that won’t mean anything to either of us tomorrow.”

She didn’t say yes or no to his request, and thus allowed him to decide for her. He took her face in both of his huge hands and looked at her in the shadowy darkness. His lips brushed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin. A wild, overwhelming desire coursed through her body like liquid gold into a waiting mold.

“I’ve never wanted a woman so badly in all my life.”

He knew it was wrong to admit even this much of his true feelings, but passion overcame his better judgment.

“Then kiss me. Really kiss me,” she breathed.

His lips touched hers gently, coaxing a response. She wanted him, body and soul. Wanted him in a way she had never known existed. He swallowed the sound of her moans, his tongue sliding between her lips, seeking entrance. He pulled her against him and she clung to him, wanting more.

“Open your mouth for me. Let me in.” His voice persuaded her.

His tongue plunged into her moistness, taking, giving, sharing in an adventure so intense that their bodies pulsated with pleasure too long denied. He had to touch her. He had to.

He covered her breast with his warm palm, caressing gently. “Please let me look at you.”

She moved his fingers to the front zipper opening of her blouse, inviting him to seek his pleasure. When the zipper stopped just below her waist, he eased his hand inside, touching the satiny smoothness of her skin beneath bra and panties.

“Oh God,” he groaned.

The halogen glare of a passing car’s headlights flashed briefly into the Thunderbird’s interior, breaking the sensual spell that had clouded Parr’s judgment. Realizing what he had done, he redid her zipper, holding her tenderly in his shaking arms a few minutes before releasing her.

“Forgive me, Mary Beth.” He never wanted to hurt this special woman, but he could already see the bewildered pain in her green eyes. “That was all my fault. I let things get out of control.”