By the end of the dinner, Mack was certain they'd won Jez over, although the older woman gave away nothing. She simply bid them farewell, not even telling Bev when or if she'd be in touch. She hadn't revealed what her potential donation would be, merely stating that she'd enjoyed her evening and had liked meeting them.

Now, they were alone in the parking lot, recapping the evening, and Mack couldn't stop thinking that Bev still looked drop-dead gorgeous in her dress. But it wasn't the dress. It was her. Just her.

"So, what do you think? That's a bad sign, that she didn't say anything at the end about her donation, isn't it?" Bev was leaning on the rusted hood of her jalopy, her hands twisted in an agitated knot. He was pretty sure she hadn't even thought about the fact they were alone. She was in full animal-rescue mode right now, and that made her even more appealing.

Huh. Who knew he liked it when women didn't notice him? Nah. Not women. Bev. That was it. A list of one. "I think Jez is on board, but she probably wants to think about things before she commits. That's how I'd play it." Mack stood in front of her, his hands dangling restlessly at his sides. Her fair skin curved over her collarbones, making him want to trace the outline with his finger. "You did great."

Bev snorted. "You're the star. I would've crumbled if I'd been there alone." She looked up, her dark eyes fixed on his. "Thank you. Really."

His knees almost quivered at the genuine appreciation in her eyes. If only the positivity was for something more than bailing her out of a tight situation, which he was causing in the first place. "My pleasure. I'm glad you called." He paused, then said, "Why did you call me? You weren't real high on me last time we parted." He wanted to hear that she'd forgiven him for buying the property, wanted to hear that he could kiss her again.

Yeah, he really wanted to hear that. A lot.

She cocked her head. "I called you because you were my best hope."

Her best hope? He liked that. That sounded positive. He wondered if she'd smack him if he leaned down and kissed her right there, outside Chez Pierre. "Hope for what?"

"To negotiate a donation. I don't know anything about how to persuade Jez to give a donation of the magnitude I need." She gestured to his suit. "I also knew you'd be nicely presentable and up my stock. And since you'd prostrated yourself trying to make up for making my dogs homeless, I figured I'd give you a chance to do something that might make you not hate yourself so much every time you look in the mirror. I'm thoughtful like that."

He grimaced at how close she'd skated to the truth. He'd felt like a complete ass since the moment she'd cornered him at his party. "I was happy to help."

She cocked her head. "Does it alleviate the guilt? I almost hope it doesn't, you know."

Yeah, okay, he was pretty sure the answer to his earlier thought was "yes," she would smack him if he tried to kiss her. He sighed and jammed his hands in his pockets. Damn, he hated his job right now. "My guilt for stealing your property and ruining your life?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't be condescending."

"Trust me, I'm not. That's how you think of me, isn't it?" How he wished she'd deny it.

Bev hesitated just long enough to give birth to a swell of hope. He looked at her face, and for a moment, saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes. Then she said, "Yes, I guess it is."

"You guess?" That was an opening he was going to seize full force. He casually lifted his hand to her hair, tucking a stray tendril behind her ear. She didn't pull away, and his heart began to thump. "Does that mean you're having second thoughts about how much you hate me?" he asked.

"Maybe." She lifted her chin. "I mean, no. My assessment of your character is complete."

Mack leaned closer, so close he could smell on her breath the decadent chocolate pie she'd had for dessert. "So, which is it? Yes, or no?" He braced his hands on her car on either side of her, trapping her.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Um."

He grinned. "Bev?" If she didn't stop him soon, he was going to go in for the kiss, and risk a knee to the groin. It would be worth it.

She opened her eyes, searching his face. "Why'd you come tonight?"

Mack leaned closer, letting his forearm rest gently on her collarbone as he continued to play with her hair. "Because you asked me to."

"Oh." She peeled her hands off the car and set her hands on her hips, clearly giving him the power stance. "Thanks for coming. I appreciate it." She pretended to ignore the fact he leaned closer. "My dogs appreciate it. My business appreciates it."

Screw business talk. He didn't want to go there right now. "Did I mention that you look beautiful tonight?"

Her cheeks turned pink. "Sort of."

"You look beautiful. Like an angel." He bent his head until his lips were only a breath from hers, and his hands slid closer to her until the sides of his thumbs were resting against her hips. "An angel I can't resist."

If she leaned forward the tiniest bit, their lips would touch.

She began to lean, ever so slightly. "I still think you're heartless and I could never trust you with my heart, but..."

"But you've fallen in love with me anyway?"

She jerked back so suddenly she would have fallen over if Mack hadn't caught her. "What?"

"Figure of speech." Mack tried not to sound as surprised as he felt. Where in the world had that remark come from? Since when did he think about love? He must be sleep deprived or something. "Silly words, incited by your incredibly tempting body so close to me, and the fact that I really want to kiss you."

Bev tightened her hands around his arms. "You do?"

"Yep." Mack's hands were still wrapped around her waist from when he'd kept her from tumbling to the ground, unable to let go.

She took a deep breath. "Then kiss me." The words tumbled out fast, as if she wanted to get them out before she stopped herself.

He certainly wasn't going to make her ask twice.

He went in for the kiss immediately.

When his lips finally met hers, he felt like he was going to explode. This time, he didn't start slowly. He kissed her hard and deep, pouring every last bit of his I-need-you-now into the kiss, and she responded just as fiercely, which then, of course, ignited that same fire in him, which turned up the heat, to which she responded, making him even hotter, in the best endless loop he'd ever been trapped in.

He couldn't get close enough, couldn't kiss her deep enough, couldn't touch enough of her body. He was vaguely aware that she wasn't leaning on the car anymore, that her body was pressed against his, that her arms were draped around his neck, that his hands were destroying her pristine hairdo.

What he was acutely aware of was that her body felt like it was on fire, her kisses the kind that tore his soul from its hiding place. It was a different Bev tonight, one who was no longer hesitant. A woman who had come to terms with her sexuality and decided to embrace it in his arms.

The thought nearly made him explode right there.

Mack was astounded by the response from Bev as she melted against him, her body and lips responding to every suggestion he made. The little murmurs in the back of her throat called for him to answer with sounds of his own, sounds that spoke of his raging desire for her. He flattened his palm against her bare upper back, feeling her muscles contract in response to his touch. The passion that drove her to save her animals ran deep in Bev, passion that drove her to press her lean body against his, to entwine her fingers in his hair as if she were afraid he'd stop kissing her.

As if there was a chance of that. Not this time, not with all of her hesitation gone.

"Ahem. Excuse me." A proper male voice interrupted them.

Mack felt Bev tense, reality slamming into his gut. He cursed, remembering they were standing outside Chez Pierre in a public parking lot. What had he been thinking? Oh, he knew exactly what he'd been thinking...about sliding the silk dress up her hips, moving aside her panties, and making love to her right there on the hood of her car. Which, on the list of Classless Things to Do, was right there at the top.

The man cleared his throat. "Excuse me," he said again.

Taking a deep breath, Mack tore his mouth away from hers, unable to peel his hands off her body. He turned his head, enchanted by the fact that Bev buried her face in the crook of his neck while she tried to regain her composure. Great. So she was also adorable, in addition to being sexy as hell? Because he really needed another reason to be completely into her.

The maître d' was standing next to them, his face red.

"Yes?" Mack was unable to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"The lady left her purse in the restaurant." He held up the sleek white bag that was so atypical of something Bev would carry. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Ah, thanks." Mack disentangled his right hand from Bev's hair and accepted the bag. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

"No problem." The man inclined his head and headed back to the restaurant.

Mack set the purse on the hood of Bev's car and rested his cheek against hers. He couldn't believe he'd let himself get carried away like that in public. What in tarnation was wrong with him? It was as if he'd never kissed a woman before in his life. "Bev?"

Her chest pressed against his as she took a deep breath. "Yes?"

"Let's go back to your place." Her hair was now loose, cascading down her back, allowing him easy access to tangle his fingers in its silky softness. He would never become tired of playing with her hair.

"Oh…" Bev unburied her face from his chest and pulled back. "Not a good idea."

"Why not?" He nibbled gently on her collarbone.

"Because you are way too good at kissing."

Mack chuckled against her skin. "That's a bad thing?"

"Yes." She sighed and tipped back her head, giving him room to nibble.

"Why?"

"Because."

"That's not a reason, sweetheart."

"Damn. I can't think with you doing that." She flattened her hands on his chest, pressing gently, as if to push him away without actually having the willpower to do so. "Because I can't get involved with you."

He decided not to help her out, and stayed where he was, pressed against her. "Is that so?"

"Yes." She curled her fingers around the lapels of his jacket, contradicting her words. "Unless you've changed your mind about the shelter."

Mack ground his teeth. Damn job. "That shelter has absolutely nothing to do with us. That's work. You're...something else." He didn't even know what she was, other than something he didn't want to let go of. Ever.

She twisted so hard on his jacket he was afraid she was going to tear the lapels right off. Not that it would matter. It was just a jacket.

"That's the problem, Mack. I can't remove my heart from my work. It's all the same. I need someone who has the same passion, someone who can't separate me from the rest of their world. Someone who would put me above anything else." She looked up, her eyes begging for him to understand. "That's how I'll love someone."

He couldn't think about her loving anyone, except him. No, he didn't want that either. Did he? She'd demand way too much of him, more than he could give, even if he wanted to. Which he didn't. "I'm not looking for love." It was the line he'd given women hundreds of times…and it was the first time it had felt like a lie.

Hurt flickered in her eyes. "I guess that's it, then."

"I guess so."

But neither of them moved away. "Thanks for coming, Mack. Give a Dog a Bone is my life, and I needed help tonight."

He wrapped his hands around hers. "It was my pleasure, trust me." He kissed the tip of her nose, making himself stop before he started things going. She wanted and deserved love. He wasn't that guy. Not the guy who could love her, and sure as hell, not the guy who would take advantage of her. Which meant one thing: game over.

Those two words sucked. He sighed. "Are you sure I can't follow you home?" Shit. Had he really just said that? What had she done to his sanity? He'd meant to just say goodnight, not proposition her like some—

Bev groaned a delicate little feminine moan of longing. "Don't tempt me."

He blinked. She was tempted? All thoughts of being the moral good guy fled, replaced by a primal need to claim her. He slid his hands around her waist. "I could still tempt you? Bev, I know I'm not a guy who can promise love like you deserve. I don't know what I feel for you, but I know I can't get you out of my mind. It's just that you're asking me to give up my career. I can't do that. Ask me to do anything else, and I will." He meant it. God, he meant it.

Bev pulled his hands off her waist and pushed them away. "Play fair, Mack. Don't break my heart just because you can."

His chest tightened. "I could break your heart?"

She lifted her chin. "Don't act surprised. You've probably left a trail of broken hearts behind you. I don't want to be like all the other women."

"You could never be like other women." Other women didn't keep him up at night. Other women didn't get mauled by him in public. Other women didn't make him hate his job.

Bev jerked as if he'd slapped her. "I know I'm not the fancy, sophisticated woman you want."

He blinked at her misinterpretation. "You think I want that kind of woman? Do you know how tired I am of women who care more about the designer of their shoes than finding their life's passion? You're the one who makes me see the world in a different light. You're the one who makes me want to be a better man than I am."

She frowned. "Don't mess with me, Mack. We both know I'm the kind of woman who wears overalls and gets bitten by dogs, and that's not your type. I have scars all over me."

"All over?" This conversation was getting much too serious for him. He didn't even know what he wanted to say, how he was supposed to respond to her words. He sighed and slid his finger along her jaw. "I want to see your scars, Bev. I want to see and know everything that makes you special."

"My scars are not special, and they're definitely not romantic, despite how you make them sound." She shook her finger at him. "You. Stop. This thing between us can't happen, and we both know it, so just stop." She held up her hand to silence him when he started to protest. "Good night, Mack. Let me know if you hear from Jez, and I'll do the same." She picked up her purse. "I'm glad they found this. Josie would have killed me if I'd lost it."

"I knew it wasn't yours." He was beginning to know her, he realized, recognizing her style and her preferences. "It's Josie's dress too, isn't it?"

She shot him a defensive look "So, what now? You're saying I didn't pull it off? I think I did pretty well."

"Pretty well doesn't even come close. You rocked the dress."

She narrowed her eyes. "So, you want to kiss me because you liked the dress? See, I told you that women in dresses and heels were your type. Don't forget that these aren't my clothes. I'm a jeans and overalls girl most days." She pushed him away and pulled open her car door.

God. The woman was a master at turning a compliment into a brick wall. Mack caught the doorframe just before she slammed it shut. "For your information, Bev, the first time I kissed you was in a pen on a dog bed. Trust me, I like all facets of you."

For a moment she paused, her hand next to his on the door, her eyes searching his. Finally, she shook her head. "Sorry, Mack, I can't."

He frowned. "Can't what?"

"I can't trust you."

And then she shut the door, cutting him off before he could ask for clarification.

Mack stepped back, watching the rusty clunker rattle out of the parking lot. She'd said he could break her heart. He wasn't quite certain what he thought of that. And he was equally sure that hers might not be the heart that was at risk.