The moment she straddled him, her body exploded into flames. Heat careened down her inner thighs, scorched her belly, and burned her heart. She was barely aware of Evan's hands grabbing her hips and pulling her down onto him, but she knew instantly where he'd settled her, the thin material of his suit pants giving his body the freedom to respond, just as she'd intended when she'd first kissed him.

But no gloating sense of satisfaction and completeness roared through her. Want. Need. Painful desire rushed through her veins. She wanted more. More of him. More of his kiss. More of his skin. Against her. Now.

As if he could read her mind, Evan's hand slipped under her shirt, his hands hot against her bare back. Touch me, Evan. She caught the words at the tip of her lips, before they fell free into the air.

His hands slid upwards, his fingertips sliding beneath the elastic of her bra, his thumbs tracing the bumps of her spine.

She wanted him.

It wasn't a game anymore, a taunt to see how far she could take it.

His hands moved along her ribs toward her sides...toward her breasts.

Yes.

She whimpered and shifted slightly to give him access...hold on a second. She whimpered?

Wait a sec. She wasn't detached. Stop, Josie. Stop!

But she didn't want to.

His hands slid around her sides, his thumbs brushed against the sides of her breasts. Her body jerked in response, involuntary and completely out of her control.

"No!" Josie pushed herself off him, tumbling to the floor in an ungraceful heap, her chest heaving with embarrassing desperation. Heaving? Her bosom was heaving. How completely mortifying.

She propped herself up on her elbows and glared at Evan...who was breathing just as hard as she was.

There were beads of sweat on his forehead. Sweat.

God, she was good.

No need for him to know that he was even better. "I told you that you wouldn't be able to resist me." Amazing how smug she'd managed to make those words sound, even as she wondered whether the blood would return to her head soon enough to keep her from passing out on the blue carpet she'd brought from her apartment.

Evan wiped his arm across his forehead and scowled at her. "Don't ever do that again."

"Do what?" Did she sound innocent enough?

"Kiss me like that."

"Why not?"

"Because you belong to Buddy."

It took her almost a full minute to remember who Buddy was. But when she did..."Buddy? I belong to Buddy? What in the world are you talking about?"

"You. Him. Together."

"Do you see him anywhere?"

"No. But we'll find him."

"And what?" Anger giving strength to her still mushy body, she grabbed the couch and hauled herself to her feet. "We'll find him and what? Get my money back?"

"He didn't steal your money."

"Yes, he did!"

"You're lying." Evan stood up, leaning over her and scowling, no doubt trying to intimidate her.

Well, it wouldn't work. She jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow, smirking when he let out a poof of air and grunted. "Don't try to intimidate me, Dorsett. Back off."

"I have no idea why Buddy loves you," he muttered, rubbing his stomach.

She was so angry at him, she barely thought about offering to rub his stomach for him. "Loves me? Buddy wouldn't know love if his own mother was run over by a truck in front of him."

"Don't bring my mother into this."

Oh, right. For a moment there, during the kiss, she'd actually forgotten that he and Buddy were brothers. Well, no more. "Tell me the truth, Evan. Why did you bring me here? It wasn't because you felt like you owed me. Why?"

He dropped his hand from his stomach. "His poems."

"Those rotten pieces of garbage and filth? I don't understand."

"They aren't porn."

"They're not exactly public library material either."

"The fact they aren't porn means he loves you."

"Whoa." She took a step back, wondering if it would be uncool if she passed out from shock. "You think he loves me?"

"I'm going to get you two back together again." He stuttered over his words, but recovered nicely.

"You have got to be kidding."

"My brother means everything to me. I'll do whatever he needs."

"He needs a parole officer."

"I'm sure there's a misunderstanding about the money. All we need to do is find him and clear it up. Then you guys can live your happy little life together."

"A happy little life? With Buddy? Are you insane? Deluded? Using psychotic drugs?"

"He's a good guy."

"No, he's not. He's a crook, and I wasn't attracted to him enough to sleep with him even before he stole everything from me. Now? Now I'd rather sleep with a rat-infested corpse than him."

"You're feeling a little emotional right now. Once you see him and hear his explanation, everything will be fine."

"No, Evan. This time you're wrong. About your brother, about me, about everything. You're going to have to come crawling on your knees to beg my forgiveness for calling me a liar and for being so insulting as to suggest I would ever be with your brother again."

She walked over to the windowsill and grabbed Zeus, who'd been enjoying the summer breeze in the only peaceful part of the room. "I'm outta here."

"Moving out?" There was a tinge of worry in his voice.

"No, I'm not moving out. Sorry to disappoint you."

"You're staying because I'm right."

She stalked across the room and stood toe to toe with him. "I'm staying because your beloved brother stole my entire savings from me, got me evicted and fired and made it impossible for me to start school this fall. Not only am I staying until I figure out what I'm going to do, but if I can find a way to swing tuition, I'll stay for the whole year and live off you."

"Stay. It'll give me that much more time to find Buddy."

"Give it up, Evan. The only Dorsett I'm remotely attracted to is you, and I find you way too annoying to ever want to kiss again." Even if you did make me whimper. Her ex-husband had never made her whimper. In fact, no one had. Either she'd led a deprived life or Evan was a man to be reckoned with.

"Don't be attracted to me," he ordered.

"Then don't kiss me like that."

"You kissed me."

Ah, good point. "A mistake I won't make again."

"You sure?"

"Just keep being yourself and I'll be so annoyed with you all the time I won't be able to remember that you're the first man to make me whimper." Argh! How could she admit that to him?

"I am?" He had the gall to look pleased.

"Yeah, big deal. So what? I've already forgotten." If he called her a liar now, she had no defense.

"Not that it matters. You belong with Buddy, not me."

"I belong with neither of you."

"We'll see."

He was so aggravating she felt like stomping her foot and screaming. Instead, she shifted Zeus, cradling her against her chest. "Listen, Evan, obviously we're not going to agree on Buddy tonight, so let's give it up. I'm tired and I have to go put my head in a grinder so I can forget about the kiss before I'm going to get any sleep."

"I swear I didn't intend to kiss you like that."

Oh, and now he was apologizing, like she was a pathetic waif he needed to protect. Appear strong, Josie. She flipped her hair haughtily. "It isn't your fault."

"What isn't?"

"The kiss. You had no chance against my incredible sexuality."

The corner of his mouth curved up, and he touched her cheek. "Thanks, but I can take responsibility for my own actions."

Something about the intensity of his voice struck a chord, and then she knew the guilt he was feeling. As misplaced as his trust in Buddy was, it was obvious how dearly he loved his brother. Kissing the woman he thought his brother loved would no doubt torture him. How bad could a man be who would be so driven by brotherly love that he'd see past imperfections the magnitude of Buddy's? So devoted to his brother that he'd actually host a woman who drove him crazy just because he thought his brother loved her?

Okay, so the man had some redeeming qualities.

Just none of them were aimed in her direction.

Which was fine.

She wasn't going to be aiming any of her assets his way either.

But, dammit! Why did he have to have a decent, humane quality? It was one thing to be attracted to him while hating him, but if she had to start respecting him or even liking him...that simply wouldn't do! How was she supposed to resist him then?

She shuddered at the thought of what a mess her life would become if she became involved with Evan. Another Dorsett. Another man, with the power to hurt her. She simply wasn't getting involved with anyone again.

"Why do you look so annoyed?"

Jerk. And he was even perceptive. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Being decent." She glowered at him. "I absolutely have no intention of liking you one bit, or wanting to get involved with you. Physical attraction is one thing. Even if we went ahead and had a brief affair, if it's just sex, then it's all fine. But don't you dare try to make me like you."

He looked surprised. "I don't want you to like me. You're supposed to like Buddy."

"Good. Keep talking about that. Reminds me how much I can't stand your idiotic logic." It was all she could do to stop herself from catapulting through the air and crashing into his arms with enough force to knock them both into the couch, tearing her clothes off on the way.

But with incredible strength and fortitude, she managed to flounce out of the room with only two backward glances at his magnificence.

Perhaps sleeping in an alley with a cardboard box would have been the better option after all.

Fending off drunken sex maniacs might have been safer than trying to live with Evan Dorsett.

* * *

Total and utter misery.

There was no other way to describe her night.

Josie pulled her pillow over her head and tried to convince herself she was fourteen again, living at home, her biggest problem being that one of her brothers had finished off the milk so she wouldn't be able to have cereal for breakfast. She scrunched her eyes and concentrated, until she could almost smell the bacon her mom was frying up. One of her older sisters was shrieking about no hot water, and the dog had just eaten all the lunches her mom had set out on the counter. Pandemonium. Crises galore. Heaven.

Then it faded into reality.

Great. Another delusion. She wasn't fourteen again. She was twenty-seven. Divorced. Emotionally damaged. Broke. Waffleless. Stuck across the hall from the first man who had truly made her feel like a woman. Grr.

After wallowing in self-pity for a few more minutes, Josie decided it was enough. Her life would never change if she let herself become part of the mattress. And it really wasn't that comfortable of a mattress.

She yanked the pillow off her face and hurled it across the room so she'd have to go retrieve it if she lost her motivation and decided to hide under it again.

But she couldn't quite manage to get her eyes open.

Be positive. List three good things in her life.

One: her cat hadn't killed her yet.

Two: she was divorced.

Three: she had discovered her sexuality. Except she couldn't touch him.

She ground her palms into her eyelids.

Let's think about this. Why couldn't she touch him? It wasn't as if she had any obligations to Buddy. Granted, she wasn't getting in any relationships, thanks to her miserable judgment when it came to men, but what about an affair?

Small problem: she had started to let herself think of him as a decent human being last night. But if she could refrain from doing that, then maybe, just maybe, he could become the key to her sexual liberation. To have the ability to relish in her body, yet not make herself vulnerable...that's what being a woman was all about!

A thrill of excitement whirred through her. Could she do it? Maybe, maybe not...but it was definitely worth getting out of bed to find out.

This time her eyes opened quite willingly, and she sat up in bed, only to have all her excitement kerplop right out of her body, replaced by nausea.

Not just any nausea. The kind brought on by the unexpected shock of something truly horrible.

Like having her poster of Buddy framed and hung up on the wall across from her bed.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. But when she opened them, he was still there.

Disgusting. Some sick joke? Had her ex-husband found her and decided to engage in psychological warfare to get her to relinquish the CD collection she'd won in the divorce?

Then she narrowed her eyes as another framed photo on the nightstand caught her eye. An eight by ten of Buddy graduating from high school. Behind that, a five by seven of Buddy at what looked like a prom, with some girl with big hair and too much makeup.

Evan.

Anger began to simmer inside her, bubbling and popping. How dare he march into her room and erect a Buddy Shrine? A total violation of basic human decency standard. And of her privacy.

Whoa. Her privacy. He'd been in here while she was asleep. She looked down at her old, torn tee shirt. Great. No doubt, he'd been overwhelmed by her beauty.

Okay. This was war.

Which was fine.

It was a good test of her strength and fortitude.

Josie kicked off the covers and swung her feet to the floor.

First, secure the battlefield. She grabbed all the photos of Buddy, which included three more she found in the bathroom, dumped them in her pillowcase and tossed it out in the hall for a trip to the garbage can later.

Next...She marched back into her room, lifted down the giant frame, set it on her bed and removed the poster. It simply wouldn't suffice just to put the monster in the garage. Some kinds of evil simply had to be killed before it would be completely eradicated. And certain kinds of death deserved a carefully chosen audience.

She smashed the poster under her arm, yanked open her door and thudded her fist against Evan's bedroom door. "Open up!"

Nothing.

He couldn't already be up, could he? Skulking away to hide from the effects of his actions?

She banged again. "Evan!"

Still silence.

"Fine." Before she had time to talk herself out of taking control of her life, she barged into his room.