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brought his hard mouth down on her parted lips and staked his claim.
    She did not return his kiss, only went rigid at the intimacy of his action.
    He pulled back and stared deep in her eyes, but held her close.
    Struggling free, she faced him furiously, only to find herself back in his arms. “Nick, you always know where you’re headed.”
    â€œMy head does, but my heart does funny things without asking me.” His breath burned on her cheek.
    McCall swallowed the emotion caught in her throat, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull her gaze from Nick’s suntanned face.
    Deep inside, he made a primitive groan and reclaimed her lips, pulling her tightly against him.
    McCall tried to twist out of his grip, only to have him increase the pressure on her mouth, his probing tongue making his desires crystal clear. His tempo increased.
    Her emotions swam through a maze of feelings and spiraled out of control. Yet, his lips were more persuasive than she cared to admit, and she found herself swallowed up in his slow, drugging kisses.
    Like a life preserver, rationality towed McCall out of the moment and back to reality. She was in the arms of the man she had just professed to hate. She eased out of his grip. He let her go.
    Eyes as dark and powerful as he was pierced her own. His forehead furrowed and a panicked expression crossed his face. “I’m so sorry, Mac.” Nick ran his finger along her trembling lips, then stepped back. “I got caught up in the moment. I’ve always known you were a beauty, but I’ve never seen you look as stunning as you do right now.”
    Her heart refused to accept his explanation. More furious at herself for responding than at him, in one stalwart motion, she struck him across the face. In disbelief, her fingers shot up to her throbbing lips.
    â€œI deserved that.” His fingers rustled through his hair.
    â€œNicodemus Dartmouth, you need to learn you don’t get everything you want. Some things have to be earned, not bought.”

Chapter Four
    McCall sat in the dinky living room of her terra-cotta bungalow on Hollywood Way in Burbank, barefoot, wearing a white, ribbed T-shirt, boxer shorts, and the stunning, several-hundred-thousand-dollar diamond necklace.
    The Dartmouths’ chauffeur had escorted her back to her house not far from MGM Studios. She’d hung the borrowed ball gown on the back of the bedroom door and taken a moment to touch the delicate beading. Even Cinderella had to return to the real world, a world without champagne, beef Wellington, or a constant flood of beautiful people dripping in costly jewels and furs.
    Tomorrow, her fantasy would vanish. Mrs. Dartmouth’s valet would pick up the ball gown and necklace, leaving behind only McCall’s memories of the night she went to heaven and back.
    Absentmindedly, she brought her fingertips to her lips, remembering Nick’s ravishing kiss. She wasn’t angry that he’d kissed her, only at the way he’d gone about it . . . and the physical power he had over her. There had been a demand, a forceful urgency in his kiss, but no violence. She had felt his need. If only he had kissed her because he wanted to, not to make a point that he could take what he wanted without asking.
    Dropping her hand to the jewels around her neck, she let her mind wander back to earlier in the day.
    After McCall’s miracle transformation, Madeline had stepped back and admired her creation before handing McCall a wine-colored velvet box containing a Dartmouth family heirloom—Madeline’s mother’s diamond necklace. After placing the jewel around McCall’s neck, Madeline had simply said, “This has never been worn by anyone outside my family. May you find your knight in shining armor.”
    Banging on the front door brought McCall back to reality. Not just knocking, but banging with purpose like a policeman demanding immediate access.
    â€œBy damn,