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keep it professional.”
    With that she turned into the parking lot by the exhibition hall. She found a parking spot by the main walkway and put up the top on her convertible. She’d barely finished collecting her leather briefcase when a black four-wheel-drive Ford Explorer pulled into the spot next to her. As she stepped out of her convertible, she had the feeling her car looked like a gnat buzzing beside an elephant. Then the tiny hairs on the back of her neck all stood up and a shiver raced down her spine. She couldn’t think about cars or even breathing because she knew. He was there.
    Sure enough, a tall, handsome guy climbed down from the driver’s seat and circled around the front of the Explorer. Arizona wore khakis and a long-sleeved dark green shirt. His hair needed a trim, his boots were scuffed, and none of that mattered because there was a glint in his green eyes that made her wonder if the devil was half so appealing as this man standing in front of her.
    “Morning,” he said. “I thought I saw you zipping by me on the freeway. You were talking to yourself.”
    Chloe tightened her grip on her briefcase, then faked a casual chuckle. “Dictating, actually. I’m a journalist. It’s an occupational hazard.”
    “I see.” His gaze traveled leisurely over her body. The attention was as tangible as a blast of hot air. She found herself wanting to move close and rub up against him, just to make the moment complete. Before she could make a total fool of herself, he turned his attention to her car.
    “Nice,” he said, pointing at the silver BMW Z3 convertible. “You ever pretend you’re James Bond?”
    Chloe rolled her eyes. She’d heard the question before. Yes, the car had been featured in Pierce Brosnan’s first film as James Bond, but that wasn’t why she’d bought it. Some of her trust money had become available a couple of years before, she’d needed a new car and she’d always wanted a convertible. She’d bought the car on a whim and had never regretted it even once.
    But she wasn’t about to explain that to Arizona. She was in a lot of danger with this man. He was the subject of a story she intended to write, so she had to get the upper hand. His respect for her professional abilities was required. But she had a feeling he wouldn’t care about her years of study or how many articles she’d written. He exuded power the way flowers exuded scent. He would respect someone who gave as good as they got. She was having enough trouble trying to forget about the dream and ignoring her unexplained attraction to him. She refused to let him best her in a game of wits.
    She made a great show of glancing around the parking lot. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Dr. Smith, but Bradley is firmly located in an area referred to as the Sacramento delta. This part of California is completely flat. So unless you plan on scaling a building or two, this four-wheel-drive monstrosity you’ve rented seems a great deal like overkill to me.” She kicked the closest monster tire and smiled. “Of course, you’re the expert in archaeology. Perhaps there’s something I should know to explain this.”
    Their gazes locked. Chloe didn’t dare back down. Better to have gone too far than not far enough, she told herself.
    A slow smile pulled at his mouth. His eyes brightened with humor. “Yeah, yeah. You called me on that one. I couldn’t help it. I hate little cars.” He took her arm and led her toward the exhibit hall. “Let’s get one thing straight. I prefer Arizona to Dr. Smith, okay? Let’s keep things informal.”
    The victory was sweet, although not enough for her to ignore the tingling in her arm or the way her heart fluttered in her chest. “Works for me. I want you to feel comfortable.”
    He looked at her. “I do. I feel very comfortable.”
    If they ever made love, they would be in danger of experiencing spontaneous combustion.
    She didn’t know where the thought had come from, but she knew it