Mary jumped clean off her stool and landed on the slick tile floor. Unfortunately, her balance proved unequal to her unfamiliar outfit—a short skirt and high heels. She staggered, flashing an immodest amount of cleavage and leg. Her brief concern for decorum didn't last long. A healthy start of fear shot through her when she twisted her ankle and started to topple.

"Careful." The man's strong, solid grip on her elbow prevented her from falling over. Discomfort aside, his touch carried an electric charge that overloaded her senses. Her central nervous system went haywire.

Something like "Ah-bab-bab-bab" fell from her lips. Round-eyed, she gaped up at him. Up close, Mr. Drop-Dead Gorgeous appeared even better looking—if such a thing were even possible—than he had across the room. Based on his deep tan, he spent a lot of time in the sun. Either he worked as a model—a distinct possibility—or he earned his living in a tough, outdoorsy profession. His clothing seemed to fit with the common man persona, up until she noted the designer logo on the front of his shirt and the heavy gold and ruby ring on his middle finger.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Why don't you sit back down?" He had a laconic manner that was distinctly European.

"That's probably a great idea," Mary said. She'd never live it down if she face-planted here and on half a glass of white wine, no less.

"I'm all for great ideas." The man chuckled and helped her back onto her stool. He claimed the stool Tammy had vacated.

Grr—Tammy! Her friend's sudden desertion suddenly made a whole lot of sense. Mary vowed to have her revenge, but the thought failed to consolidate. Mr. DDG's presence beside her took up her entire awareness.

"I'm Mary." She extended her hand on polite reflex.

"Demetri." His hand engulfed hers. His fist was huge and hard, and she shivered, imagining how his callused palms would feel against her bare skin. Would he be a rough or tender lover? The fantasies flooding her mind definitely qualified as the X-rated variety. A hot blush crept up her throat. Now where the heck had that come from?

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Demetri." Mary couldn't shake the persistent sensation that she was babbling even though her words sounded perfectly reasonable to her own ears.

"Definitely a pleasure to meet you, too." Demetri flashed a big, warm smile. Like their owner, the man's teeth shone bright and shiny. Perfect—maybe too perfect. Mary's mother, Helen, had once warned her to never date a man who was better looking than her. Up until this moment, Mary had never imagined it could be a problem.

She exhaled with regret when Demetri finally let go of her hand. Self-consciously, she wrapped her fingers around her wine glass just to have something to do.

"What're you drinking?" He tipped his chin toward her drink.

"Chardonnay, but..." She licked her lips, on the verge of refusal. Tammy's scolding lingered in the back of her mind. In that moment, a wild and uncharacteristic impulse seized her. She wanted to do the exact opposite of what her safe, boring common sense told her. After all, what was the worst that could happen? She might have fun—and Demetri might prove to be a good guy.

Mr. Keats had already picked up on some nonverbal cue and drifted closer. He hovered at a socially polite distance, waiting for them to decide.

"I'd like to get your next drink." Demetri settled on the stool, the way a person does when they intend to be there for a while. His easy manner conveyed steady assurance. No pressure. At the same time, he remained vigilant—a guardian. Mary's estimate of him rose higher with each passing second. She bet his rapport with animals would be excellent.

"I guess one more glass wouldn't hurt," Mary managed with a shy smile. "But I'd rather have a beer this time. Whatever's on tap."

Demetri conveyed her request to the bartender and asked for one of the same. After Mr. Keats delivered their drinks, he headed over to clear a messy table a couple patrons had just vacated. Mary glanced down, studying her beverage. The beer had a frothy head and light body. She tested it and liked the crisp and complex flavor, which tasted more than a little like hard cider. With a hum of approval, she chugged a deeper gulp and shoved her unfinished wine toward the inside of the bar counter.

"That bad?" Demetri asked with a chuckle.

"Let's put it this way...I wouldn't use that swill to clean jewelry."

"I'll remember that for future reference. This is good." He hefted his own mug and took a sip.

"Yes, it is." Mary took a deep breath and turned her stool toward him to enable easier conversation.

"I'm pleased you approve." Demetri edged closer to her. He rested his forearm along the edge of the bar and spread his legs wide, almost but not quite enclosing her. Mansplaying. Normally the behavior would have annoyed or threatened her. Weirdly, though, his proximity filled Mary with a sense of safety. This was a man who'd stand in harm's way to protect her.

"So, Demetri, huh? Are you Greek? You don't look Greek. At least, I think—" The second the impertinent declaration left her lips, Mary winced and her face burned. Her hand flew to cover her mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"It's okay. I get that a lot. It's my blondness that throws people off. I get these from my Norwegian mother, Helen." He ran his hand through his curls and Mary ached to do the same. She desperately wanted to discover whether they were as soft as they looked.

"And your father?"

"Greek." Demetri spat the word out, definite anger underscoring his voice.

Mary gave a little jump and her heart accelerated.

"I'm sorry," Demetri apologized immediately. Spots of ruddiness filled his cheeks, the first sign he'd shown of being less than perfect. Oddly, she found the flaw reassuring. It made him more approachable.

"It's okay." Through a heroic act of courage, she grasped his wrist. Soft golden fuzz covered the back of his arm, and his skin radiated toasty warmth. "Why do I suspect your ire has more to do with your father than being half-Greek?"

Demetri pressed his lips together and stayed silent for a long moment. "That's remarkably insightful."

The compliment brought renewed bashfulness crashing over her. "I didn't mean to pry. If it's too personal—"

"No, it's all right." He reclaimed his assurance with dizzying speed. She couldn't even imagine possessing the self-confidence necessary to make such a rapid recovery. "You might say my father is something of a Greek magnate. Krios has spent his entire life playing the role of wealthy globetrotter, seducing women around the world. He's had a whole lot of lovers but never stayed with one more than a couple years."

"Including your mom?"

"Yeah, including my mom. I've spent half my life traveling the globe—searching. I've found over a dozen half-brothers and sisters spread out across the four corners of the world."

"Holy cow! Your dad sure does get around." Mary's eyes rounded and she lifted her hand to her mouth. Thank goodness, her mind-mouth barrier proved operational. Krios sounded like a real manwhore. She didn't say it aloud. Based on the way he talked, Demetri already held his father in low esteem.

"That he does." Demetri pressed his lips together, giving the distinct impression he wanted to say something more.

She eyed him speculatively, wondering whether he took after his mother or his father. His forbidding expression convinced her it was better not to ask about his parents. Better to stick to the subject he'd demonstrated he was comfortable discussing—his siblings.

"Are you close with any of your brothers or sisters?" Mary asked.

He flashed a warm smile. "I'm closest to my younger brother Jace and my older brother Mic, but there are others. I probably have another dozen siblings I've never met."

"Wow, that's amazing!" Mary couldn't even begin to imagine having so many brothers and sisters. "I'm an only child. My father passed away three years ago of a stroke and my mother died a year later, I'm convinced, of a broken heart."

"I'm sorry. It sounds like your parents truly loved each other."

"They did." She smiled and sniffled, more than a little teary-eyed. She blamed it on the beer.

"Hey, I didn't mean to make you sad." Demetri stroked the underside of her chin, lifting her face. He bent his head and stroked his lips across hers in a light kiss.

She giggled. "I'm not sad. Really, tonight has been wonderful. The night started out pretty crappy and it's so much better now."

Thanks to you.

Heat flooded her face, and she ducked her head, afraid she'd said too much. For a moment, she felt horribly exposed. Relief washed through her when Demetri only chuckled.

"I'm delighted if I made your day even a little bit better." He polished off a draught of his beer, leaving a thin foam mustache.

"It sounds like you inherited at least one thing from your father," Mary said, redirecting the subject back to something a little less personal. Unable to resist, Mary smoothed her paired fingers across his upper lip, wiping away the froth in a bold gesture that was wholly unlike her. Her heart beat wildly, and she seemed to possess no control over her own hand.

"What's that?" He caught her wrist in a tender grip and pressed a gentle kiss against her fingertips. Delicious shivers tingled along her nerve endings.

"Wanderlust." Mary giggled and Demetri laughed.

Mary wondered whether she'd taken leave of her senses. As a rule, she marched to the beat of responsibility and duty. Right now, she ought to pack up and head back to the farm. She had to be up before dawn to care for the sheep. At ten, she had an interview with the new potential ranch hand, and then there were her financial woes. A sensible Virgo woman like her had no place flirting with the rich, itinerate son of a Greek mogul. Yet she was doing just that.

"I'll tell you what," Mary began, but then Demetri drew her thumb into his mouth and sucked on the tip. Her brain shorted out, taking coherency with it. She gasped and clutched his thick forearm to stop from falling off her stool.

Demetri popped her thumb out of his mouth. The insides of his denim-clad knees brushed against her bare thighs, and suddenly the black skirt with its daring hemline turned out to be the best choice she'd made all year. Her feminine sensibilities screamed that her legs ought to be wrapped around his hips, and only the barest shred of common sense kept her from climbing onto his lap.

Trapped in the back of her head, her good-girl modesty screamed bloody murder. What the heck was she thinking? Behaving like a...like a floozy? Like a tramp? Few patrons occupied the bar, but all of them were locals, and they certainly recognized her. Her reputation was toast. Given that the damage was already done, the devil on her shoulder urged her to go ahead and seize the day.

"What were you saying?" Demetri prompted.

"Ahhh." She blinked and it took a ridiculously long time to organize her thoughts. "Nothing."

"Oh." He frowned, looking disappointed.

In the back of Mary's mind, Tammy whispered in her ear, "Flirt a little. Have fun. If it works out and you like him, then take him home." Oh, it flew in the face of sound, practical judgment, but Mary wanted to cast those boring things to the wind. Just once, she longed to live life without fear. And if her reputation was already ruined, she might as well make the most of this dalliance.

On impulse, she asked, "Would you like to play a game of pool?"

He grinned. "I'd love to."

In a smooth motion, he slid to his feet and offered her help up. She placed her hand and her faith in him. He touched her with such gentleness and intimacy, as though they were already lovers, that she found herself thinking maybe they were soulmates. It defied good caution and logic to trust a stranger so fully. Her instincts told her that this was a man worthy of her confidence.

One game turned into another. As pool players, they turned out to be pretty evenly matched, which brought out her competitive streak. And it didn't hurt that every shot meant Demetri had to bend over so his jeans became snug across his tight ass.

Time zipped along. They chatted and laughed, and worked their way through another round of beers. Mary caught herself having more fun than she could ever recall enjoying before. As a rule, men made her nervous. But Demetri had a way of drawing her out of her shell. She opened up and shared secrets with him that only her closest friends knew. She definitely liked what she'd seen of him so far.

"You're not the only one whose name gets a rise from people, you know."

"Mary seems common enough." He cocked his brow.

"Try being a Mary who lives on a sheep farm." She flashed a wry smile. "Growing up, I got teased about it endlessly. I've heard every stupid joke under the sun, and then some."

"You own a sheep farm?" Demetri stilled. His handsome face set into a mask of disturbing intensity, which left her more than a little spooked. Off the top of her head, she couldn't perceive of a single reason the information should bother him.

"Yes," she said carefully. "I supply high-quality fleece for spinners and also plan to sell organically dyed yarns." She shook her head. "It sounds silly when I say it."

"No, it doesn't sound silly." Demetri set down his pool cue to take her hand. "You sound like a woman who knows what she wants and is doing everything she can to get it. You're living your dream. Most people don't get beyond the daydream phase."

"Yeah, some dream. More like a nightmare." She gave a harsh laugh, which earned a decidedly odd glance from him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound bitter. It's just the last month has been rough. First my divorce—"

Shit! Shit! Shit! She hadn't meant to dump that on him.

"What else?" Demetri didn't blink. In fact, he gave no reaction to indicate that the news of her recent divorce bugged him at all.

"I lost a pregnant ewe to a coyote today," Mary finished in a weak voice. Abruptly, her brief euphoric rush ended, and she regretted the loss. Any escape from the unpleasant reality of her life was a blessing, and talking about her troubles proved to be a real downer.

"A coyote you say?"

"Yeah."

"Just one or a band?" Demetri conveyed the distinct impression of a man taking notes, which further confused her. She couldn't figure it...unless maybe his interest in her went beyond a potential one-night stand. She squashed the sudden upwelling of hope that had lifted her heart. Such foolish optimism was a luxury she couldn't afford.

"I don't know."

"Have you left out bait or tried traps?"

"Not yet." Guilt assailed her. She should've researched all the things he'd mentioned. More than that, she shouldn't have left her flock unattended.

Before coming into town, she'd bedded the entire flock down in the barn for the night. The structure had a solid roof, walls, and floor, and locks on the double doors. It should be coyote-proof...unless the coyote in question possessed the ability to turn into a man. An awful vision entered her head—all her sheep slaughtered. She cringed, imagining what it'd be like to arrive home to such a massacre.

"I have to go." Mary stumbled, searching for her purse. Distress crashed through her when she didn't find it right away. She turned in tight circles, scanning the area around the pool table for it.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Demetri caught her elbow in a steady grip.

"I have to get home to my flock. They're all alone." As soon as she said it, Mary winced. She gritted her teeth, fully expecting him to make the stupid requisite joke at her expense.

"I'll drive you home," Demetri said, completely serious.

"I can drive myself if I can just find my damn purse!" She kicked, aiming for the floor, and caught her toes on the foot of the pool table. It hurt something awful. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she bit her lips to stop from sobbing.

"Here." Demetri stooped and recovered her purse from wherever it'd been hiding. He passed it over to her. "Mary, you've had too much to drink. It's not safe for you to drive. Let me take you."

"I..." She hesitated because he was right—she was tipsy.

"Look, if the idea of me taking you home makes you uncomfortable, then call a friend to come get you. I'll wait with you until they get here. All I want is to be sure you get home safe."

Mary stared at Demetri. She gnawed her lower lip, torn with indecision. He struck her as wholly sincere, and even though he hadn't yet shared his last name, she knew him. She trusted him and that scared her senseless. Since she barely possessed the presence of mind necessary to admit that to herself, it startled the heck out of her when she heard herself speak.

"I don't want tonight to end, Demetri."

He smiled, slow and bright, and it warmed her like the rising sun. "I don't want tonight to end either, but don't let that determine your decision. I'll still be in town come morning, even if this stops here and now."

Tension crackled in the air. Talk about blowin' up a storm; their attraction defied description and maybe even the laws of physics. Mary had never experienced anything like it before, and she feared not ever feeling it again.

She gathered her courage and made a conscious choice to risk her heart one more time. "Demetri, please take me home."