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she said again, then smiled. His pulse reacted instantly to the wide curve of her lips—his muscles vibrated with desire. She was definitely a beautiful woman.
    You’re not interested, he reminded himself. Despite what his body might think. And it thought being alone in a vehicle with her was a freaking fantastic idea. Still, he ignored his body’s enthusiasm.
    “So, if you aren’t having car problems, and your ride hasn’t left you, then I’m not sure why you need a ride from me.”
    Her smile turned indulgent as if she knew that he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being alone with her.
    “I have my motorcycle,” she said, tilting her head toward a silver-and-black bike parked against the bar. “Not a good night for driving on these twisty roads.”
    She held out her hands, palms up, as if to display the rain falling on them. “At least not on two wheels.”
    Jensen couldn’t argue with that, but reluctance still kept him motionless. He couldn’t be alone with this woman.
    “But I guess if you aren’t interested in helping a lady in distress... ” Her words trailed off, and she started toward the bike. A bike that looked too big for her to handle on a dry, straight road, much less a rain-slicked, winding one.
    Shit. He couldn’t have her on his conscience, too.
    “My truck is this way,” he said, walking away from her, not waiting, not looking. Like that would stop his body from reacting to her.
    Just give her a ride, then go home. No big deal.
    He heard her boots on the gravel, then she was beside him. Though she was at least a couple of feet away, he swore he could feel the heat radiating off of her body.
    This was not good, he told himself. His body sizzled merrily in her heat, not listening.
    She didn’t speak until they reached the truck; he unlocked her side first and opened the door, making sure he made no contact with her.
    “Gallant,” she murmured with another smile as she slid up onto the bench seat.
    He laughed wryly. “I don’t know about that.” Not with the way he was feeling at the moment.
    He crossed to the driver’s side, unlocked the door, and joined her in the dark vehicle. He didn’t glance at her as he slid the key into the ignition.
    “I wouldn’t want you to be too gallant, though,” she said, her husky voice brushing over him. The desire crackling through his limbs flared.
    He shot her a quick look, then shifted the truck into Drive. When they reached the road, he braked. “Which way to your house?”
    “Right,” she said, pointing in the correct direction, her eyes never leaving him.
    He nodded, trying to concentrate on driving, which was no easy task. He could feel her eyes locked on him, studying him.
    “I guess I should introduce myself,” he said after a moment, the uneasy silence making him more aware of her gaze. “I’m Jensen.”
    She smiled. “Hi, Jensen.” She didn’t offer her name.
    Again silence filled the vehicle, the only sound the whir of the tires, and the rhythmic swish of the wipes. Yet, his senses were overwhelmed. He could feel her just a few inches away, smell her, realizing the spicy, rich scent he’d smelled in the bar had been her—although that didn’t seem possible.
    “You can turn here,” she said, her voice almost startling him. She pointed to a narrow dirt road that he wouldn’t have even noticed if she hadn’t gestured toward it.
    Slowing, he made the sharp turn, and the truck was quickly encompassed by gray, nearly bare maples and oaks and thick evergreens.
    “You can stop here,” she said after they had driven only a few hundred feet.
    “Here?” He glanced around, seeing no sign of lights in the thick woods, no sign of a house. But he braked as she asked. He put the truck into Park, then turned to look at her. As seemed to be her way, she regarded him with those spookily pale eyes, saying nothing.
    “Where is your house?”
    “Close,” she answered. Then she reached out her hand and brushed her fingertips over