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find another meal ticket.”
    â€œI can run it,” she flared, turning pale. She had to; it was all she had.
    â€œNo way, honey.”
    â€œDon’t call me honey!” The ragged fury of her own voice startled her. He called every woman “honey.” It was a careless endearment that meant nothing, because so many other women had heard it from him. She couldn’t stand to think of him lying in the dark with another woman, his voice lazy and dark as they talked and he called her “honey.”
    He caught her chin in his big, rough hand, turning her face up to his while his thumb rubbed over her lower lip. “I’ll call you whatever I want… honey , and you’ll keep your mouth shut, because you owe me a lot of money that you can’t repay. I’m going to think awhile about that debt and what we’re going to do about it. Until I decide, why don’t you think about this?”
    Too late she tried to draw her head back, but he still held her chin, and his warm mouth settled over hers before she could jerk free. Her eyes closed as she tried to ignore the surge of pleasure in her midsection, tried to ignore the way his lips moved over hers and his tongue probed for entrance. If anything, this was worse than before, because now he was kissing her with a slow assurance that beguiled even as he demanded. She tried to turn her head away, but he forestalled the movement, spreading his legs and pulling her inside the cradle of his iron-muscled thighs. Michelle began shaking. Her hands flattened against his chest, but she could feel his heartbeat pulsing strongly against her palm, feel the accelerated rhythm of it, and she wanted to sink herself into him. Slowly he wedged her head back against his shoulder, his fingers woven into her hair as he held her. There was no way she could turn her head away from him now, and slowly she began to give way to his will. Her mouth opened beneath his, accepting the slow thrust of his tongue as he penetrated her in that small way and filled her with his taste.
    He kissed her with shattering absorption, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Even the dim thought that he must have practised his technique with hundreds of women didn’t lessen its power. She was utterly wrapped around by him, overwhelmed by his touch and scent and taste, her body tingling and aching with both pleasure and the need to have more of him. She wanted him; she’d always wanted him. He’d been an obsession with her from the moment she had seen him, and she’d spent most of the past ten years running from the power of that obsession, only to wind up practically at his mercy anyway—if he had any mercy.
    He lifted his head in slow motion, his dark eyes heavy lidded, his mouth moist from kissing her. Blatant satisfaction was written across his hard face as he surveyed her. She was lying limply against him, her face dazed with pure want, her lips red and swollen. Very gently he put her away from him, holding her with his hands on her waist until she was steady on her feet; then he got to his own feet.
    As always when he towered over her, Michelle automatically retreated a step. Frantically she searched for control, for something to say to him to deny the response she’d just given him, but what could she say that he’d believe? She couldn’t have been more obvious! But then, neither could he. It was useless to try to regain lost ground, and she wasn’t going to waste time trying. All she could do was try to put a halt to things now.
    Her face was pale as she faced him, her hands twisted together in a tight knot. “I won’t sleep with you to pay that debt, no matter what you decide. Did you come here tonight expecting to whisk me straight up to bed, assuming that I’d choose to turn whore for you?”
    He eyed her sharply. “The thought crossed my mind. I was willing.”
    â€œWell, I’m not!” Breath rushed