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Tanner was passing through, a man who seemed out of place in a small town. Even his Italian shoes looked out of place. He held a dark presence that made her tingle in alarm yet intrigued her more than she cared to admit. Then there was the problem of how they’d met. What kind of man hid behind bushes to hook up with women? Certainly not someone she wanted to know. Yet she’d come to meet him anyway.
    She inhaled, suddenly aware of his presence. She jerked her head toward the other side of the restaurant, the side containing the bar, and saw him.
    Damn, but he was hot.
    Hilly swallowed, her mouth gone dry. He found her, his mesmerizing silver-blue eyes melting into her then pulling her to him. His dark hair, tied back, shone under the dim lights of the bar, and his black shirt and slacks shimmered as though allowing a small part of his inner essence to escape.
    Meg was right. Tanner was a bad boy. The ultimate bad boy without being obvious about it. She could sense his magnetism compelling her to give him whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted it. Danger seethed around him, edged in his strong jawline, pulsing in the hollow of his neck. Unbridled power ebbed from him, a power born of enormous strength and sexual energy.
    Once again, she told herself to leave. Once again, she disobeyed.
    Praying her legs would hold her, she walked toward him, clutching her purse in a death grip.
    Tanner rose to greet her, and she settled into the booth opposite him. The power she’d felt several feet away intensified, surrounding her with a sexual need. The closer she came to him, the harder it was to think, to breathe.
    “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”
    Although he sounded sincere, Hilly recognized the lie behind his words. She doubted any woman had ever stood him up.
    “You look amazing.” He took her in, the hunger in his eyes almost palpable.
    “Thank you.” She sighed, relieved at how normal her voice sounded.
    Tanner motioned to the waitress and without bothering to ask Hilly, gave her directions to bring them the best champagne in the house. The waitress shifted from one foot to the other.
    Hilly smiled at the girl, understanding her dilemma. “Um, they don’t carry champagne here. But I’d love a glass of chardonnay.”
    The young girl gave her a look of thanks and took Tanner’s order to refill his drink. She paused, reached toward Tanner, then yanked her hand back as though he’d tried to bite her. Hurrying away, she glanced back over her shoulder several times before making it to the bar.
    Hilly kept her eyes on the girl, hoping to give her heart time to slow down. At last, she blinked, then looked at Tanner to find him staring at her.
    “What is it?” Please don’t tell me I have a wardrobe malfunction.
    Tanner leaned back, resting against the booth cushion with an air of nonchalance, yet the air around him thickened, sizzling with electricity. “I know what you are.”

Chapter Four
     
    Hilly gripped the edge of the cushion. “I’m sorry?”
    Tanner’s silver-blue eyes darkened, changing to a smoky gray. “I said…I know what you are.”
    She forced a laugh and inwardly cringed at the brittle sound. “Well, of course you do. Everyone in Cottageville does. I’m the part-owner of a bakery.”
    The waitress returned with their drinks, glancing at Tanner so many times she managed to slosh Hilly’s drink onto the table. Hilly took the goblet from the entranced young woman, grabbed a napkin and wiped up the spill. The girl stayed where she was, playing with the ends of her hair.
    Was she waiting for payment? But no, the girl wanted something— someone —more.
    Tanner waved his hand, dismissing the waitress. “Thanks. Just put it on my tab.” But the girl didn’t budge. Instead, she stared longingly at Tanner.
    If Hilly hadn’t been worried about what Tanner was going to say to her, she would’ve found the girl’s infatuation amusing. Did she expect him to sweep her into his arms and carry her