"Well, I need my rest anyway," Micki said.

Rosa nodded, pleased. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, so why don't you go sit and have a drink?' She gestured in the direction of the dining room.

Micki had expected a casual dinner, but as she headed to the other room, she found the rectangular table set with a delicate tablecloth, good china and two glasses of sparkling water poured and waiting for them. Surprised, she turned to question Damian.

He stopped short, nearly walking into her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, except…why the formality?"

He shrugged. "Rosa thinks company's a reason to use the good dishes."

"I would have thought this room was for show," she said, laughing.

"If it were up to me, that's what it would be for. My sisters decided if I was going to have a big house and help, I shouldn't be serving on paper plates in the den."

"They have a point."

He strode around her, pulled out a chair and waited for her to be seated.

Suddenly nerves took over as she found herself next to Damian at the end of the table. In the silence that followed, the atmosphere around them grew more intense. She became aware of the ticking of the clock on the wall behind her, a synchronized accompaniment to her heart as it beat heavily inside her chest.

She searched for an easy topic of conversation. He had his prearranged doctor's appointment the next day and Micki knew he put a lot of stock in the doctor helping him get back to work soon.

"So how 'bout them Renegades?" she asked to break the tension.

It worked. He grinned and raised his glass. "To the division championship, then the NLCS and finally the World Series."

She lifted her water and clicked her glass with his. He seemed pleased at the topic of conversation and she didn't want to mess up by getting too serious. "I spoke to Sophie and she said the camp ran smoothly."

He nodded. "It always does. You Jordan girls have a knack for PR."

"Thank you. It's something we all enjoy, which I'm sure helps a lot. Nobody wants to get up and go to work every day and be miserable."

"Amen."

She smiled. "You love what you do, too."

"There's nothing more fulfilling than baseball."

She raised an eyebrow. "Nothing more fulfilling, huh? Are you absolutely sure? Because I can think of a few things that at least come close." And in case her insinuation wasn't clear, she reached out and ran her foot up and down his leg.

He blinked, obviously startled. Well, so was she. She hadn't thought she'd have the nerve to pull off Sophie's first suggestion.

"Micki Jordan, are you flirting with me?" he asked, stunned.

She tried for a relaxed smile. "I believe I am." Because she might never get another chance like this again. A rush of excitement flooded her veins.

Damian, meanwhile, still looked stunned.

"What's the matter? I can't imagine I'm the first woman who's propositioned you."

He placed the glass back onto the table and leaned closer. "Is that what you're doing? Propositioning me?"

She nodded slowly. "The question is are you up for the challenge?" Because Micki wanted him at peak levels.

Damian stared at the woman next to him. How had she gone from embarrassed ingenue to seductive vixen? And how did he get the shyer Micki back? No way did he want to be alone with the bold Micki, who seriously threatened his tenuous restraint.

"Oh, Rosa," he called. "Is dinner almost ready? I'm starving."

Micki met his gaze and chuckled. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"Is everything a sexual innuendo where you're concerned?"

She propped her chin on one hand. "Only since I met you." She paused in thought. "Actually only since Carter got me drunk, then you kidnapped me to a remote island off the coast of Florida."

"I tried to talk you out of the strip joint," he reminded her.

"That brings me to another point I thought you were a fun guy."

"I am a fun guy."

"You're going to have to prove it," she teased and his groin tightened with immediate need.

"Dinner," Rosa said, arriving with two plates, heaping with delicious food.

He'd hoped Rosa and dinner would break the tension, but as they began to eat, Damian realized they were just inching closer to the end of the meal and time alone-when he'd have to decide whether or not he wanted to meet Micki's challenge.

"Rosa, this is delicious," Micki said.

The older woman blushed. "Thank you. Steak, potatoes and green beans. All Mr. Fuller's favorites."

"So he ate his vegetables as a boy, did he?" Micki asked.

Rosa shook her head and laughed. "No but we've been piling them on his plate anyway. If we call them his favorites, we figure one day he'll forget and believe it"

"His mother's idea," Tino said, striding into the room with a wine bottle in his hand. "Wine anyone?"

Damian placed his hand over his glass. "No, thank you."

"Me neither."

Without warning, Micki ran her foot up and down his leg once more, blatantly teasing him. His gut twisted and he broke into a sweat. No way could he withstand a serious post-dinner assault.

"While you were having your wine, our daughter Sara called," Rosa said.

"The one who's getting married in a few months." Though he'd never been close with their children, Damian knew all their life stories and the depth of Rosa and Tino's love and pride in their brood.

"Well, not according to her. She had an argument with her fiance and just like that, she called off the engagement." Rosa snapped her fingers.

"As if a promise means nothing," Tino said, his disappointment and concern clear in his tone.

"I'm sure she didn't break the engagement lightly," Damian said.

"That's what we need to find out." Rosa glared at her husband. She obviously wanted him to withhold judgment. "So we need to leave early, but I promise to come back and clean in the morning."

"That's not necessary." Micki waved a hand, calling attention her way. "You help your daughter. I'm happy to clean up."

"Are you sure?" Rosa asked.

Damian had every intention of letting them go to their daughter. "We can handle it," he assured her.

“Thank you " Tino said.

"Both of you," Rosa added. She untied her apron as she quickly walked back to the kitchen. A few minutes later, the door slammed shut behind the couple, leaving Micki and Damian alone.

Using caution, Damian turned to Micki. "I thought you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible." He hoped his reminder would get her to think about leaving again before he did something stupid. Like sleep with her.

"I changed my mind. I’m not so sure leaving is best for me after all. I like it here. It's relaxing, it's away from the press…and you're here."

Damian glanced toward the ceiling. How much could a normal guy take? She was sending out blatant signals and he couldn't deny his interest. Hell, he'd been interested for too long and now she was all but offering herself to him.

He'd never denied that he'd been spoiled, the baby brother of sisters who catered to his every whim and the athlete whose money assured him that any woman would do the same. Until now, he'd always known when to draw the line and respected the need to do so.

Micki deserved that same respect, but she so obviously didn't want it, and damned if he could stop himself from acting on what they both desired.

"You're serious?" he asked because he had to be sure.

"About you?”

He nodded.

"I can spell it put for you if you'd like," she said,leaning closer, her fresh scent enticing him. "I’m deadly serious about wanting you. About understanding your rules and not expecting anything beyond this. In fact, I'm so busy at home, I wouldn't have time even if you came crawling on your hands and knees."

He raised an eyebrow, wondering if he'd read her wrong in the past and she really was into short flings, or if she was telling him what he wanted to hear.

Either way, she'd given him a green light. He pushed his chair back and stood. Towering over her, he slid her chair back, too, then braced his hands on the armrests and leaned close, his lips inches from hers.

She swallowed hard and he sensed her nervousness, reminding him that despite the show of bravado, she wasn't the experienced, easy kind of woman he was used to. Somehow it made him desire her more.

He clenched his fingers around the hard wood. "I want you, too."

Her eyes grew wide, the blue pools deepening with pleasure. "So what's holding you back?"

"Not a damn thing." Without hesitating, he sealed his lips over hers and gave into the temptation he'd been fighting.

She sighed, the sound soft and full of complete relief as her lips parted and she took him inside. She tasted of pure woman. He slanted his mouth for better access and thrust his tongue deep and hard.

A part of him realized he was testing her, seeing if his unleashed need would scare her off, because he knew if he took this woman to bed there would be no holding back. He even wondered if a part of him hoped she'd retreat before it was too late.

But she wasn't running away. Instead she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck so he could continue his assault. And as he circled the warm, moist recesses of her mouth, their tongues tangling, their teeth grazing, he realized they shared an equally overwhelming desire. One that had to be sated immediately.

He reached back, untangled her hands and brought them down to her sides, while breaking the kiss slowly. Gently. In a way that let him savor every movement. The brush of his lips over hers, the soft licks of his tongue across the moisture they'd created, and the light nip of his teeth on her flesh.

She moaned and tried to entice him back into a soul-searching kiss, but he couldn't take another minute of kissing and teasing like they were horny teenagers who couldn't complete the act. Because they most certainly could.

"Let's go upstairs," he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

She nodded. "I think the dining room would be awkward."

"Not to mention, hard on my back."

Micki grinned. "Not as young as you used to be, are you, Fuller?"

He laughed despite how true that statement was. With Micki, he didn't feel the need to hide the painful truth. "Just keep that little secret to yourself."

She met his gaze, the moment suddenly too serious.

"I'm not too old for this." He bent down, lifted her into his arms, favoring his good hand, and carried her straight to his bed.

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU ASK FOR, Micki thought as Damian swept her off to his bedroom in true fairy-tale form. But if he was her prince, he wasn't the permanent, happily-ever-after kind. Just the fantasy she'd dreamed about for most of her life, and one she had every intention of enjoying.

His bedroom was large with oversize shuttered windows, dark wood furniture, and a navy-and-cream color scheme, all dominated by a California king-size bed. When he laid her back against the pillows, butterflies filled her stomach, but no second thoughts raced through her mind. Apparently he had none either. He straddled her lower body with his thighs and his gaze never left hers as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.

Micki swallowed hard. For a woman who'd spent a lifetime in male locker rooms, she would have thought she was immune to a muscled body. No such luck. The man was sculpted and gorgeous, from his stubbled beard, sexy chest, down to the sprinkle of hair disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

She'd examine what lay beneath that denim in a little while. For now she wanted to focus on his exposed upper body. "You have a golfer's tan," she mused. With one finger, she traced the tan lines that cut his forearms where his uniform sleeves ended.

He visibly shivered, reacting to her touch. "I'd prefer to call it a ballplayer's tan “

"Semantics." Emboldened, she drew an imaginary line beginning on his arms and traveling straight across his chest where his tanned neck abruptly changed to the paler hue.

She shut her eyes and continued to run her palm over his flesh, letting her senses take over. The texture of his hair-roughened skin, so different from her own, caused tremors of awareness to shoot through her body. As for Damian, when her fingertips touched his nipples, he sucked in a sharp breath. The sound echoed in her ears and gave her yet another taste of feminine power.

In the past, Micki had had her share of lovers. The relationships hadn't worked, not for her and not for the guy with whom she was involved. Most of the men had been sports guys she'd met through her job. Some had wanted an in with her powerful uncle; others had been interested in a short fling. The sex had been fine but had never been fulfilling. There hadn't been much give and take, and the relationships had left her empty in ways she hadn't understood.