'Let go of me,' she hissed, giving a nodding smile to another director. 'You're breaking my hand.' 'Consider it a preview of things to come.' Parks pulled her through the open French doors, hoping to find a quiet spot. There was a three-piece band in the garden playing soft, dancing music. At least a dozen couples were taking advantage of it. Parks swore, but before he could maneuver her through the garden to a more private spot, he heard someone call her name. Immediately, he dragged her into his arms.
The hard contact with his chest stole her breath, the arm tight around her waist prevented her from finding any more. Ignoring the choking sound she made, Parks began to sway to the music. 'Just wave to him,' he ordered against her ear. 'I'm not about to be interrupted with small talk.'
Wanting to breathe again, Brooke obeyed. She was already planning revenge. When his grip lessened slightly, she drew in a sharp breath of air, letting it out on a string of abuse. 'You overgrown bully, don't think you can drag me around just because you're this year's American hero. I'll only take it once, and I'll only warn you once. Don't you ever grab me again.' Brooke stomped hard on his foot and was rewarded by having her air cut off again.
'You dance beautifully, Ms. Gordon,' Parks whis-. pered in her ear. He bit none too gently on the lobe. Between the fury and pain, Brooke felt a stir deep in her stomach. Oh, no, she thought, stiffening. Not again. The band switched to an up-tempo number but he continued to hold her close and sway.
'You're going to have a lot of explaining to do when I faint from lack of oxygen,' she managed. Who would have thought that lanky body would be so hard, or the limber arms so strong?
'You won't faint,' he muttered, slowly maneuvering her toward the edge of the garden. 'And you're the one with the explaining to do.'
She was released abruptly, but before Brooke could take a breath, he was pulling her through a clump of azalea. 'Look, you jerk…' Then she was back inside, dazed by bright lights and laughter. Without pausing, Parks dragged her through the center patio and into the adjoining courtyard.
There was no music here, except the liquid sound of the water falling into the grotto, and only a few couples more intent on themselves than on a man pulling a furious woman in his wake. Parks drew her close to the pool and into the shadows behind the high wall. Brooke was effectively sandwiched between him and the smooth rocks.
'So you like to play games,' he murmured.
For the first time she was able to lift her face and stare into his. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'No?'
She had expected him to be annoyed, but she hadn't expected this smoldering fury. It was in his eyes, in the hard lines of his face, in the poised readiness of his body. When she felt her heart begin to thud uncomfortably, she became only more defensive. 'You made all the moves,' she tossed out. 'You demanded that I give you my name. You called me at six o'clock in the morning for a date. All I did was let Claire drag me to a ball game.'
She made an attempt to push by him and found herself pressed back against the wall by a firm hand on her chest. 'You were sizing me up,' he said slowly. 'At the game, at dinner. Tell me, how did I come out?'
Brooke put her hand to his wrist, but was surprised when he let her push his hand away. She began a careless recital she knew would infuriate him. 'You move more like a dancer than an athlete-it'll be a plus on film. Your build is good, it'll sell clothes. You can be charming at times, and your face is attractive without being handsome. That could sell anything. You have a certain sexuality that should appeal to women who'd like their men to have it, too. They're the primary target, as women still do the bulk of buying in ready-to-wear.'
Her tone had been schooled to annoy. Even so, Parks couldn't prevent his temper from rising. 'Do I get a rating?'
'Naturally.' The bitten-off words pleased her enormously. It was a small payment for the scene on her porch, but it was payment. 'Your popularity quotient is fair at the moment. It should get higher after the first commercial is aired. Claire seems to think if you could get into the World Series and do something outstanding, it would help.'
'I'll see what I can do,' he said dryly. 'Now, why didn't you tell me who you were?'
'I did.'
He leaned closer. She caught a trace of sharp cologne over the smell of wet summer leaves. ' 'No, you didn't.'
'I told you I make commercials.'
'Knowing I'd conclude you were an actress.'
'Your conclusions are your own problem,' Brooke told him with a shrug. 'I never said I was an actress.' She heard a woman's laugh muffled in the distance and the rush of water into the pool beside her. The odds, she mused, were not in her favor at the moment. 'I don't see what difference it makes.'
'I don't like games,' Parks said precisely, 'unless I know the players.'
'Then we won't play,' Brooke countered. 'Your job is to do what I tell you-no more, no less.' Parks controlled a wave of fury and nodded. 'On the set.' He caught the hair at her waist, then let it slide through his hands. 'And off?'
'And off, nothing.' She'd put more emphasis on the last word than she had intended to. It showed a weakness she could only hope he didn't notice.
'No.' Parks stepped closer so that she had to tilt back her head to keep her eyes level with his. 'I don't think I like those rules. Let's try mine.'
Brooke was ready this time for the sneak attack on her senses. He wouldn't be permitted to seduce her, make her tremble with those feather-light teasing kisses on her skin. With a cool, hard stare, she dared him to try.
He returned the look as seconds dragged on. She caught the glint of challenge in his eyes but didn't see the slow curve of his lips. No man had ever been able to meet her stare so directly or for so long. For the first time in years, Brooke felt a weakness in her primary defense.
Then he did what he had wanted to do from the first moment he had seen her. Parks dove his hands into the lushness of her hair, letting them sink into the softness before he dragged her against him. Their eyes clashed a moment longer, even as he lowered his lips and savaged hers.
Brooke's vision blurred. She struggled to bring it back into sharp focus, to concentrate on that one sense to prevent her others from being overpowered. She fought not to taste the hot, demanding flavor of his lips, to feel the quick, almost brutal nip of his teeth that would tempt her lips to part. She didn't want to hear her own helpless moan. Then his tongue was plundering, enticing hers to answer in a seduction totally different from the teasing gentleness of his first embrace. She struggled against him, but her movements only caused more heat to flare from the friction of her body on bis.
Gradually, me kiss altered. The hard pressure became sweet He nibbled at her mouth, as if savoring the flavor, sucking gently, though his arms kept her pinned tight. She lost even her blurred vision, and her will to resist went with it.
Parks felt the change, her sudden pliancy. Her surrender excited him. She wasn't a woman to relinquish control easily, yet both times he had held her, he'd prized it from her. With gentleness, he realized, suddenly aware that the anger had fled from his body and his mouth. It was gentleness that won her, whereas force would only be met with force. Now he didn't want to think-not for a moment. He wanted only to lose himself in the soft give of her body, the white silk scent that poured from her and the dusky flavor of her mouth. They were all the seduction of woman, only intensified by her surrender.
Brooke felt the liquid weight in her limbs, the slow insistent tug in tier thighs before the muscles went lax. Her mouth clung to his, yearning for more of the magic it could bring with the gentle play of tongue and teem. His hands began a slow exploration of her body, kneading over the soft material. When she felt him loosen the narrow- zipper that ran from her throat to her waist, she roused herself to protest.
'No.' The words came on a gasp of breath as his fingers slid along her skin.
Parks gathered her hair in one hand, drawing her head back so that his eyes met hers again. 'I have to touch you.' Watching her, he glided his fingers over her breast, pausing briefly on the taut point before he roamed down to her flat, quivering stomach. 'One day I'll touch all of you,' he murmured. 'Inch by inch. I'm going to feel your skin heat under my hands.' His fingers trailed back to her breast, leaving a path of wakened flesh in their wake. 'I'm going to watch your face when I make love to you.' Bending, he touched his lips to hers again, tasting
