The gelato at Phil’s was delicious, as usual. It was yet another spot Keller had found in his off-the-Strip ramblings during his last business trip to Vegas. The proprietor, a portly little man with thick glasses, kept calling Samantha, “pretty lady,” and insisted that she try every flavor in the case—which was a lot since Phil’s prided itself on having at least fifty flavors at all times.

Samantha, for her part, seemed to enjoy the gelato immensely. Several times she gave Keller a taste of whatever she was trying and laughed if he made a face over a flavor he didn’t like. Keller found he was beginning to like her laughter—it was warm and feminine and completely genuine. In fact, he was finding that Samantha was one of the most down-to-earth people he’d met in a long time.

Careful, he told himself grimly. Remember that was what you thought about Rachel—that she was real and genuine, that she really cared. And then she broke your heart.

Yes, and he never intended to let any female break it again. Still, what harm could it do to enjoy Samantha’s company and listen to her laugh? To talk to her about subjects that ranged from science-fiction movies to thoracic surgery? Keller couldn’t help himself—he found her utterly fascinating. And even though he knew it would be completely ridiculous and impractical to fall for a woman whose Shifter Gene was stubbornly latent, he couldn’t help being attracted to her mind as well as her lush body.

On the way back to the hotel, he noticed her starting to wince as she walked. As she’d pointed out earlier, the shoes that went with her dress weren’t really meant for going great distances.

“May I carry you?” Keller asked. He could have just scooped her up again, as he had on the way to dinner, but he didn’t want to. He wanted Samantha to want him to touch her—to carry her. He waited for her answer, watching as she nibbled her ripe lower lip in indecision—an unconsciously erotic gesture.

“Look,” she said at last. “It’s not that I don’t like it when you, uh, pick me up. But seriously, I’m not one of those waifish little girls who weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

“Are you complaining about your curves?” Keller raised an eyebrow at her. “Because if you are, stop. You’ll never hear me complaining about them.”

She gave him an unreadable look.

“You’re saying you like, er, curvy girls?”

“Very much,” Keller assured her, hearing the hungry growl in his own voice and not doing a thing to disguise it.

“Well . . .”

“I’ll take that for a yes.” Not waiting anymore, he scooped her up into his arms, relishing the feel of her soft, yielding body against his own. God, but she was gorgeous! He felt drawn to her as he hadn’t to any other woman in a long time . . . which was dangerous, he told himself. He needed to avoid this kind of attraction, and holding her small, curvy form close to his chest wasn’t helping any. But somehow he couldn’t make himself put her down. Not even when they got back to the hotel.

One of the doormen held the door without comment so he could carry Samantha inside.

“Keller,” she protested breathlessly. “You should put me down now! There might be people we know in here because of the convention.”

“So?” he growled, carrying her over to the elevator that led to her suite.

“So what will they think?” Samantha demanded, but he noticed she didn’t struggle to get down. In fact, she seemed fairly comfortable with him carrying her by now—at least she was relaxed enough to put an arm around his neck as he held her.

“Probably that I’ve found my own private trauma surgeon and we’re going up to her room to play ‘doctor,’” Keller murmured, giving her a hungry grin.

“Keller!” She slapped at his shoulder and her cheeks went pink, but she still didn’t try to get down.

At last he stepped off the elevator on the forty-seventh floor and took her to the door of her suite. Only there did he finally place her on her feet, but he didn’t take his arms from around her. He couldn’t help himself—all the possessive playacting he’d been doing that day seemed to have somehow become a reality. He didn’t want to stop touching her—didn’t want to let her go.

“Keller . . .” She looked up at him, her blue eyes glimmering in the dim light like the dress she wore.

“Yes?” he murmured, holding her gaze with his own.

“This has been . . . a really surprising night.” Her lovely face wore a look of confusion, but there was no uncertainty in her body. Her scent was warm and aroused, and even though it wasn’t the maddening scent of a Juvie, Keller found that he liked it—liked it a lot.

“Surprising because you found out I’m not so bad after all?” he murmured. “Do you see me differently now that you know who I am?”

“If you mean now that I know about your company, that’s a complicated answer.” She frowned thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t say I think differently about you because of your bank account . . . but your brain is a different story.”

“You like brainy guys? Nerds?”

She laughed. “I don’t think you fall into the ‘nerd’ category exactly. But yes, intelligence is incredibly attractive to me.”

“To me as well.” Keller stroked a strand of long blond hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “But that’s not the only thing I find attractive about you.”

“Keller—” she started, but he cut her off with a kiss.

It was a foolish thing to do, and he knew it—but he couldn’t help himself. He’d been drawn to her from the moment she touched him—from the moment she came to him as he lay dying on the floor and put her hands on him, fearless in her quest to save him.

At first Samantha stiffened in his arms, but then, to his surprise, she melted against him. Though Keller was kissing her urgently, he hadn’t pushed it, not wanting to hurt her. But when she started kissing back, he stroked the seam of her lips gently with his tongue, asking entry.

Samantha opened to him, parting her lush lips and inviting him in.

Keller’s blood surged and he crushed her to him. God, her mouth was so sweet. And her small, curvy form fit perfectly against his own. He threaded his fingers through the back of her long hair possessively, wanting to explore her mouth—wanting to own her completely.

He could feel her pressing against him, her full breasts against his chest. His cock was achingly hard, and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman.

That was when Samantha pulled back, breaking the kiss.

“Keller!” she gasped, putting a hand on his chest to hold him back. “Stop! We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Holding her eyes with his he growled, “I want you.”

“Well, you can’t have me.” She shook her head firmly. “You’re too young for me and I can’t . . . I just can’t.”

“All right.” Reluctantly, he let her go. She was right to stop things before they went too far, he told himself. He was getting in too deep—having feelings for Samantha that he’d thought were dead and buried many years ago. She was waking a part of him that was best left hidden and asleep—it hurt less that way.

“I’m sorry,” Samantha said, looking truly regretful. “I really did have a wonderful night.”

“I did too.” Lifting one of her small hands, he turned it over and placed a hot, gentle kiss in her palm.

Samantha drew in a little gasp of air, and he felt her pulse flutter against his thumb.

“Keller . . .”

“If you need me, I’m just in the other suite.” He pointed to the door down the short hallway from her own.

“Thank you.” She gave him a regretful smile. “But I don’t think it would be smart of me to ‘need’ you in the middle of the night.”

“Be that as it may, you have only to call me. I’ll be listening.”

He released her hand, though it was the last thing he wanted to do, and walked down the short hallway to his own door. He opened it and looked back before he went inside. Samantha was still standing there, staring at him, her big blue eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Good night, Sammie,” he murmured.

“Good night,” she whispered, and then fled into her suite and shut the door behind her.

* * *

Samantha leaned back against the door of her suite, heart pounding, legs trembling. God, what was wrong with her? She hadn’t had such a strong reaction to a man since . . . well, never, she admitted to herself. She’d never felt so physically drawn to anyone. It had taken every ounce of willpower she possessed to pull away from that hot, passionate kiss. And the look in Keller’s eyes when he’d growled . . . I want you . . .

God, I have to stop this. Stop it right now!

Samantha pressed a hand to her chest, trying to still her pounding heart. I don’t like him, she reminded herself. He’s a jerk!

Or that was what she’d thought of him before tonight. But that was before she’d found out he had an intellect to match or rival her own. Before she’d found out that his huge, muscular jock body housed a brilliant brain. And that he had a sense of humor . . . and a magnetic personality . . . and that he liked curvy women. . . .

Could have let him in just for the night—had a few hours of hot sex and then forgotten about it the next morning.

The problem was, she didn’t think she could do that. Though she had often advised her sister to go out and find a man to scratch her itch after Sadie finally got divorced, Samantha wasn’t very good at taking her own advice. She talked a good game, but to be honest, she just wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl. It was too hard to give her body without giving her heart—which had been broken more than once. Samantha found it much easier just to bury herself in her work, to hide her vulnerable side behind her intellect and impressive job title and pretend she didn’t mind being alone.

Still, the way Keller had looked at her . . . the feel of his big, hard body pressed against hers . . . the growl in his voice when he told her he wanted her . . .

Stop it, Samantha! Forget about him and do something to take your mind off it, she ordered herself. What about a bath in the pool-sized bathtub? That would be nice. Although the way she was feeling, a cold shower might be more appropriate than a hot bath.

Resolutely, she straightened up and squared her shoulders. Fine. Everything was going to be fine. She would take a relaxing bath and then sleep like a baby in the big, cushy bed. The next morning she would say good-bye to Keller and fly back to Tampa and resume her life. True, she’d been planning to hang around the conference for a little while longer. But since she’d already made her own presentation, there was really no need.

It’ll be better when I get home, she told herself. Better when I get away from Keller.

She hoped.