Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me

She'd never longed for the relative safety of the city more than she did now. At least in San Francisco she had a chance of kicking a mugger in the groin or yelling for help. Whereas if a mountain lion was hungry, she was going to be a Carrie sandwich. And if a rattler got her, she'd have to fashion a tourniquet out of her tank top and they'd find her poisoned and topless in the field the next morning. Neither was a pretty picture. The only good thing about her predicament was the certainty that turning down a marriage proposal paled in comparison to being eaten by a three-hundred-pound lion.

The rustling grew louder, and Carrie didn't know whether to scream or run or stop breathing and stay completely still. She knew from hiking in Yosemite that if she saw a bear she was supposed to jump up and down and wave her arms and holler to fool the bear into thinking she was bigger than it. But what if a mountain lion simply thought that made her a better target? More fun to kill and all that. Holding her hands out to protect herself, Carrie took a step backward. A loud snapping sound that seemed to come from beneath her right foot had her leaping forward, clinging desperately onto the nearest thing in her path.

Which just so happened to be an incredibly hard, tall cowboy. For a long moment, Carrie was so thankful to be spared from the fangs of death that she hardly noticed, or cared, that she had !her legs wrapped tightly around the man's waist. Or that her

breasts were smashed against his hard chest. Or that she was clinging onto his neck for dear life, pressing her face into his neck.

As her heart rate slowed, she realized he had an incredibly nice smelling neck.

That's when it hit her: This man who had saved her could just as easily rape her. Oh, God, why had she ever gone for a walk? If only she'd taken Vanessa up on the offer to lounge poolside.

Heart in her throat, Carrie told herself not to show any fear. If she acted like everything was perfectly okay, she might get the chance to disappear into the night by running away as fast as she could in some random direction that hopefully led to her hotel. But before she could do much more than send up another prayer for help, the man said, "Does every vineyard in town get to have a trespasser as pretty as you, or is it just my lucky night?"

His rich, low voice rumbled down her spine. All at once, every nerve in her body came to life. Especially the ones at the tips of her br**sts and in the vee between her legs. It was the oddest thing, but the sound of his voice, the way the words wrapped over her like a warm blanket, made her feel completely safe. What was wrong with her? Hadn't she gotten enough of the ! fairy tale yet? Prince Charming wasn't going to show up at sunset 1 in the middle of a vineyard to sweep her off her feet and show her perfect, endless love. As if he could read her mind, he said, "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. I saw you from the house and wanted to make certain that you were all right."

Her city-girl-training told her not to believe him. She should if, knee him in the balls or poke his eyes out and run for her life. But for some crazy reason, she felt that he was telling the truth, that she could trust him not to hurt her. At the same time, she became aware of how ridiculous the situation was. Like some crazy, trespassing slut, she was clinging onto a man who'd simply come to see if she needed his help. And to think, just yesterday she was on her way to having her engagement photo in Town and Country. I should really get off him, she thought, but her limbs wouldn't obey. Probably had something to do with the way the cowboy's heat burned through her, scorching her br**sts where they pressed against his large, wonderfully hard chest.

Pulling her face back from his neck, where, frankly, she wanted to hide forever-partly because she was so mortified, but mostly because he smelled like an intoxicating blend of bonfires and sugar-Carrie forced herself to make eye contact.

His eyes burned into hers, and she forgot how to swallow. The cowboy was the most gorgeous man she'd ever set eyes on. His face was all hard planes, and the only word she could think of to describe his mouth was rugged. Mouthwatering rugged. How could she have ever thought that James was good looking, with his whitewashed, featureless face? This, here, was a real man. Mr. Marlboro come to life. She opened her mouth to thank him for coming to her aid, but instead she found herself saying, "I'm so glad you found me."

His eyes crinkled slightly at the comers, and a bolt of lust burned through her. "I'm glad I found you too;' he said, and her ni**les hardened.

Good Lord, she was practically having an orgasm from the sound of his voice. She'd never felt this hot, this ready. This completely devoid of social skills. She couldn't think of anything to say, apart from, Could you take me right here, right now, hard and fast and hot? On the ground is fine, thanks. She was shocked by her utterly inappropriate thought. Had \Vanessa taken over her body? Her mind? She struggled to remind ['herself that she was barely out of a relationship, that she wasn't a casual-sex kind of girl. But none of that could keep her from blurting the first silly thing that popped into her head. "I thought I was going to die out here tonight." Why couldn't She keep it together? And why were her legs still wrapped around 1. stranger's waist?

The cowboy's large hands seared her butt cheeks as they held her firmly up against his body and his gorgeous mouth turned up '(at the comers, all the way this time. "Die? From what? Eating too many grapes?"

Carrie had never felt more stupid. "I thought you were a mountain lion;' she said in a tiny voice. This time, the cowboy flat out laughed. With his head thrown back, his neck exposed, Carrie saw the allure of being a vampire.For one wild moment she wanted to sink her teeth into his dark, lightly stubbled skin. She wondered if sex was different with a man who used his hands, his strength for a living. Her other lovers had all been businessmen and engineers. Never hard, muscular cowboys who could last all night long, and then some. Never magnificent strangers who could hold her up against them without so much as breaking a sweat.

Yet again, Carrie was stunned by her wanton thoughts. She'd never, not once in her life, considered having a casual fling. Sex had always meant love. Or so she'd thought. For the first time, Carrie wondered what would happen if she had sex for sex's sake. It couldn't possibly hurt any less than finding out she'd been lying to herself for two years, could it?

"You're worrying for nothing;' he finally said through a grin. "Mountain lions rarely come down to the valley floor. It's too hot. Not enough trees."

"Thank God," she said, amazed to find herself fluttering her eyelashes in a come-hither way. His grin turned into an intense look that made Carrie's rapidly fluttering eyelids still. "Tell me your name," he said.