She laughed up at him as they walked toward her door. "I had the best time. That's twice now I've had the best time with you, and in two continents. I feel very cosmopolitan."

"See me tomorrow." He turned her into him, slid a hand up her back to the nape of her neck.

"Okay." Her eyes fluttered closed as he drew her closer. "Where?"

"Anywhere." He whispered it, then touched his lips to hers.

It was a simple matter for a man to deepen a kiss when a woman was all but melting around him. It was easy to take as much as he wanted when she sighed and wrapped her arms around him.

And when what she gave back was sweet and warm and unbearably soft, it was damn near impossible not to want more.

He could have more, he thought as he changed the angle of the kiss. He had only to open her door, step inside with her. Already there was a purr in her throat and a quiver along her skin.

And he couldn't do it. She was half drunk and criminally vulnerable. Worse, somehow worse, the want for her was a great deal more personal than he'd bargained for.

He eased her back with the sudden, certain knowledge that his plans had just suffered a major snag. And the snag could become a large and tangled knot.

"Spend the day with me tomorrow."

She felt as if she were floating. "Don't you have work?"

"Spend the day with me," he repeated and tortured himself by leaning her back against the door and taking her mouth again. "Say yes."

"Yes. What?" "Eleven. I'll be here at eleven. Go inside, Tia."

"Go where?"

"Inside." God help him. "Inside," he repeated as he fumbled a bit with her lock. "Damn it, one more." He yanked her back against him, kissed her until the blood was roaring in his head. "Lock the door," he ordered and, giving her a little shove inside, shut it smartly in his own face before he could change his mind.