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hadn’t been true. Kate suspected she was the single person who understood that, just this once, the vicious, mean-spirited Pleasantville grapevine was spreading a rumor actually based in truth.
    The old saying about the truth hurting had never been more appropriate. In this particular case, the truth made her ache. She’d never completely gotten over the shock and hurt of that life-altering moment when her childhood illusionshad shattered and her mother’s saintly image had become all too human.
    “Don’t leave.”
    She turned her attention back to the amazing stranger. He didn’t plead, didn’t cajole or coerce. He simply stared at her, all gorgeous intensity, tempting her with his smile and the heat in his eyes.
    “I have to go somewhere. I’m only in town for today.” She wondered if he heard the anger and hurt in her voice. Did he see her hands shaking as she watched the audience inside the doorway of the Tea Room grow and expand?
    Then, perhaps because the audience in the doorway was expanding, or perhaps because she simply wanted to know if he’d really kissed as well as she’d thought, she leaned up on her toes and slipped a hand behind the stranger’s—Jack’s—neck.
    “Thanks, Jack, for giving me one pleasant thing to remember about my visit back to this mean little town.” His lips parted as she pulled him down to press a hot, wet kiss to his mouth. She playfully moved her tongue against his lips, teasing and coaxing him to be naughty with her.
    He complied instantly, lowering his hands to her hips, tugging her tightly against his body. The kiss deepened and somewhere Kate heard a shocked gasp.
    As if she cared.
    Finally, dizzy and breathless, she felt him let her go. Somehow, a simple “Up-yours” to the occupants of the Tea Room had turned into a conflagration of desire. She found it hard to stand. Her whole body ached and she wanted to cry at the thought of not finishing what she’d so recklessly restarted.
    “I’ll be seeing you, Kate,” he promised in a husky whisper.
    And somehow, not sure why, she felt sure he was right.
     
    A FTER SHE GOT IN her SUV and drove away, Jack stood on the porch for several moments. He ignored the people exiting the Tea Room—his mother’s cronies who’d probably already called her. And the men staring unabashedly from the barber shop—his late father’s buddies who probably wanted to change places with him.
    They’d all watched while he’d done something outrageous. He’d seen a chance, seen something he wanted, followed his instincts and kissed a beautiful stranger. In his years playing the male/female sex/love game, he’d never done something so impulsive. Yeah, he’d probably had a few more women in his life than the average guy. But he’d never been as deeply affected by one, just from a heated stare across a nearly deserted street.
    Jack still had the shakes, remembering the feel of her in his arms, the way she’d tilted her supple, firm body to maximize the touch of chest to chest, hip to hip. Man to woman. Her dark eyes had shone with confusion, but had been unable to hide the unexpected flare of passion. “Kate,” he whispered out loud.
    He felt no sense of urgency to go after her since he knew who she was. As soon as she’d said her name, he’d remembered her face from the picture in the Chicago paper a few weeks ago.
    He hadn’t read the article, and couldn’t remember much—only that she owned some trendy new women’s store on the Magnificent Mile. But he definitely remembered her face, and her name—Katherine…Kate—because, with her thick, dark hair she’d reminded him of an actress of the same name. Kate Jackson? No…but something like that. He couldn’t place the last name yet, but he felt sure he would.
    What on earth she was doing in Pleasantville he couldn’t fathom. But tracking her down really shouldn’t pose much of a problem at all. A scan of the newspaper’s Web sitearchives and he’d be able to find the