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  "Did you get that little problem taken care of?"

  As if to betray her, her body tingled at the mischievous look on his face. "Yes."

  Gabe leaned back in his chair. "So, are you going to tell me about yourself now? What is your name?"

  Casey chewed her bottom lip. She wanted to wait until dinner was over. "I was intrigued by your article," she said instead.

  A puzzled expression crossed his face. He was obviously disappointed with her answer. He was going to be even more disappointed when he learned her identity.

  The waiter brought their entrees, and Casey sighed with relief. She nibbled the shrimp, frowning at the way Gabe raked his potato away from his fish and separated his vegetables.

  Uneasiness filled her. He ate like her stepfather, Lou, and seemed to be just as picky. She shivered, tearing her gaze away as dark memories assaulted her. Suddenly her appetite vanished.

  "Don't you like the creole?" Gabe asked.

  Casey nodded. "I'm saving room for dessert."

  Gabe groaned.

  Casey gave him a teasing smile. "I'm not sure which I like better, double fudgecake or strawberries with whipped cream."

  Gabe's fork clattered onto his plate. "Do you suppose we could get it to go?"

  Casey squeezed Gabe's hand. "First, tell me about the article and those silly dates. Did that woman really eat four pieces of fudgecake?"

  Gabe chewed a bite of fish. "Four. Big ones, too. I don't know where she put it." He looked at Casey, narrowing his eyes for a moment. "You want to know the truth?"

  Casey nodded. She thought she did, that is unless he had some more names to call her.

  "I didn't want that assignment in the first place. I was beat. I'd been undercover for two solid weeks with hardly any sleep trying to track down this junkie. When Hank gave me the assignment, I balked. My job is my life and dating through the personal ads: what a crock. I didn't want to try it. I wanted to look for... I thought... well, I've been thinking about looking for the right woman and you know... settling down."

  "I see." And Casey did. Lots of things she wanted to see. Some she didn't.

  Gabe looked sheepish for a minute, as if his admission made him less macho. He was wrong. His admission only fueled Casey's desire for him. She was actually beginning to like Gabe Thornton. That would never do.

  A heartbeat of silence stretched between them, the tension palpable as his gaze penetrated hers. For a second, something otherworldly transpired between them, as if they'd been connected by a strong sensual force. Sensual and almost spiritual.

  Then Gabe cleared his throat, and his gaze slid from her eyes to her mouth. Casey ran her tongue over her mouth in an attempt to wet her dry lips. Gabe's jaw tightened as he zeroed in on the movement, his stormy look echoing the thunder that had begun rumbling outside, and the storm brewing between them.

  "How about that woman with the alphabet ad?"

  Gabe chuckled. "That one was a surprise. I have to admit I was beat when I arrived at her house, but at least I'd saved a couple of kids from the streets. When we finally found the junkie, he had two boys about fourteen working for him."

  "And you helped them?"

  Gabe nodded. "They're back with their families now."

  Casey's anger wavered. How could he be all bad? He saved kids.

  Maybe she should cut him some slack. After all, he was exhausted because he'd been out all night playing Superman.

  Hadn't she made mistakes when she lived with her stepfather and asked for forgiveness only to be given a harsh no? She'd promised herself never to be like him. And she had to admit she had looked like hell the night before.

  "Anyway, from the time I walked into that woman's house, I felt like I'd been swept up by a tornado."

  Casey gritted her teeth. "What about her ad? Didn't you think it was... um, kind of clever?"

  Gabe's eyes narrowed. "Clever? It didn't make sense. Just a random list of words. It didn't tell me anything about the woman."

  Anger rolled through Casey, but she forced her voice to remain soft and seductive. "Oh? I thought it was creative. Each word described something the woman liked. Take the letter "a." The woman obviously loves antiques."

  Gabe's wine glass paused in midair, hovering near his mouth as if he was thinking about what she'd said. Then he took a long slow slip, his lips working as he savored the drink, and she had an insane urge to reach her tongue out and lick the wine from his lips.

  "You know you're right. I was so tired I didn't even see it."

  A small triumphant feeling drummed through her. "Maybe this woman is the creative type," Casey offered. "You know the theories of right-brained people."

  Gabe nodded. "Maybe. She certainly was creative with her hair color and her make up. And right brained? If she had a brain, then I guess it would be called right-brained." He chuckled at his own humor, and Casey bit the inside of her cheek to keep from telling him off.

  "Would you like dessert now?" the waiter asked.

  "I'll have the strawberries and cream," Casey said. While listening to Gabe's barbs, she'd worked a knot in her napkin.

  "The fudgecake," Gabe said. "We can share, or we could order it to go."

  Casey forced a coy smile. "You know a dessert like this is meant to be savored. Besides, it's very sexy watching you eat."

  Gabe squeezed Casey's hand. "You're the sexy one, lady. Now, tell me your name. The suspense is killing me."

  The waiter interrupted, bringing their desserts. Casey groaned at the oodles of whipped cream. If she wasn't so angry at Gabe, she could think of all kinds of places to put it. And lick it off.

  Still prolonging his torture was fun, so she sucked the tip of a strawberry and watched as Gabe squirmed in his seat. "I'd rather tell you about my dream instead."

  Gabe arched an eyebrow.

  Casey offered him a strawberry and watched him lick the whip cream off the top, then he sucked the ripe berry inside his mouth. It was the most seductive movement she'd ever seen.

  "I had a dream last night," she said, her voice husky. "It was a fantasy come true."

  He leaned forward on the edge of his seat, his interest obviously piqued.

  Underneath the table, she uncrossed her leg, kicked off her shoe and rubbed her foot against his calf.

  Gabe's smoldering look sent a sharp pain of desire through Casey. She wanted it to be real.

  She wanted to forget the hurtful things he'd written about her. She wanted to forget his father was a Pulitzer Prize winner and that he might be put off by her past. She wanted to forget the fact that he'd called her a loser and that he didn't think she had a brain, right side or otherwise.

  But she had to follow through.

  "Last night I dreamed about a man who looked like you," she murmured. "In fact he was you. Oh, you were a little rougher looking, you know unshaven, tough looking. You undressed me in the moonlight, and I peeled off your clothes, layer after layer, taking my sweet tune. We made love under a billowing oak tree with millions of stars glittering above us, a soft breeze fluttering my hair so that it tickled your stomach when I lay down upon you."

  Gabe, very methodically, placed his fork and napkin on the table, never once letting his gaze leave Casey.

  "It was chilly, and goosebumps covered my body. You wrapped your arms around me and hid me from the cold. My body was tight, and I was nervous, afraid someone would see us out in the open. But you mumbled such erotic things in my ear that I suddenly didn't care if anyone saw us. Or heard."

  Casey swallowed against the rising tension in her voice. This was exactly what she'd dreamed. And saying it out loud only intensified her yearning that it be real. "I felt the thick coarse hair of your chest touch my naked skin, and it made me go wild." Casey looked into Gabe's eyes. "I'm usually shy, not like this at all. But the dream was so vivid... you were so real... I had to meet you."

  "Let's go," Gabe said in a choked voice. He clutched Casey's hand in his, brought it to his lips, then tenderly kissed the
palm of her hand. With his other hand, he motioned for the waiter.

  When the waiter laid the check down, Gabe reached for it, but Casey quickly slipped it from his hand.

  "No, I invited you. I owe you for last night."

  "For the dream? It was that good?"

  Tingles raced up Casey's spine. Gabe's charcoal gray eyes were almost black. She nodded. "It was that good."

  "I want to hear the rest of it when we're alone."

  Casey forgot about Gabe the plumber, forgot about her plan, forgot everything as passion flared in his eyes. She wanted to tell him every detail of the dream and then act out the fantasy.

  The waiter handed Casey a pen, and she quickly signed her name.

  "Thank you, Ms. McIntyre," the waiter said.

  Casey nodded, then turned to face Gabe. It took a fleeting second for realization to dawn, and when it did a horrified expression turned Gabe's face chalky.

  A hollow, sad feeling washed over Casey. She'd never get to tell Gabe about the rest of the dream. She'd never get to act it out.

  Gabe stuttered something unintelligible, reminding Casey of the night before. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke.

  "That's right, Gabe. I'm Casey McIntyre."

  Chapter 3

  It was impossible.

  Ridiculous.

  A joke.

  Gabe clenched the tablecloth with white knuckles. The gorgeous, sexy woman who had just aroused him to the point of pain was Casey McIntyre? The same woman he'd met last night with the wild hair and green face? The woman he'd verbally maligned in his article?

  Gabe groaned and dropped his face into his hands as Casey walked away. Images of a woman in a tattered robe revealing slender, long, red toenails popped into his head. Following that vision flashed memories of lacy lingerie and neon green condoms, triple extra-large size. Casey's soft southern drawl echoed in his mind. Yes, it was the same woman. The woman of his dreams.

  He glanced up. When she reached the door, she turned back one last time. She wasn't just leaving; she looked mad as hell.

  Every word of the article, every detail of their conversation pounded through his head. He'd called her a loser, implied she didn't have a brain—what else? His article insinuated that people shouldn't expect personal ads to lead them to true love.

  He thought of the neatly typed list of requirements for the perfect woman hanging on his refrigerator and shook his head. Maybe Casey wasn't his future wife, but the images from her dream raced through his mind, and his list didn't seem to matter. The powerful attraction between them did. Answering her ad might not have led him to his ideal mate, but it had definitely led him to his fantasy woman. Only he hadn't recognized it. And now he'd blown it.

  He noticed the car keys lying on the table, grabbed them, then darted for the exit. He'd never groveled before, but he'd get down on his hands and knees to apologize if that's what it took.

  * * *

  Casey blinked back tears and searched for her keys. Making a hasty exit was important, and here she was locked out of the car! She peeked inside but couldn't see the keys.

  "Drat!" What if she'd left them in the restaurant? There was no way she'd go back inside for them. Hiking up her dress, she dropped to the ground and crawled under the car to get the spare one Brick kept taped underneath.

  Gabe stopped in the parking lot and sighed when he saw Casey. He was going to have to get down on his hands and knees. Come to think of it, it was the second time in two days she had him on his knees and not the way he wanted.

  But there was no other way to talk to Casey. She was lying on her back underneath the car, her shoes thrown aside, her dress hiked up, and she was definitely wearing a garter belt!

  He could see the lacy edge peeking out from the hem of her dress.

  What the hell was she doing sprawled underneath the car?

  His first instinct was to stand in front of her so no one else could see up her dress. His next instinct was to drag her out.

  "Casey?" Gabe stooped down and peered underneath, trying to avoid letting his eyes linger on Casey's legs.

  Casey arched her neck, glared at him and scooted further underneath the car.

  "Go away!"

  Gabe shook his head, half at Casey, half at himself. He wasn't giving up that easily.

  Then he unbuttoned his sleeves, pushed them up and squatted beside the car. "Casey, please come out and talk to me."

  "I said, go away!" Casey's muffled shout almost made him laugh, but the quiver in her voice quickly stifled that impulse. Was she crying?

  Damn. If she wouldn't come out, he'd have to crawl under there with her. He had to talk to her.

  He dropped to the ground, lay down and scooted underneath the car beside her. He wished he hadn't. The scent of peaches bombarded his senses, and the tears that streamed down Casey's face made his gut clench. He reached out in an attempt to wipe away the moisture, but she brushed at the tears with the back of her hand, smearing a line of grease along her jaw.

  "I told you to go away."

  Gabe ignored her icy tone. "I'm not getting up until you do." He'd dealt with criminals before. He could deal with a woman scorned. "By the way, what are we doing under here?"

  Casey fixed him with a stare that could freeze fire.

  Maybe he couldn't deal with her.

  "I know what I'm doing here, but I have no idea why you're here."

  "If you're hiding out, it won't work?"

  "Of course I'm not hiding out. That would be pretty stupid. Oh, yeah, but that's right. Brainless me might do that."

  "Listen, I'm sorry—"

  Casey threw up a hand. "I don't want to hear it. I'm getting the key and leaving."

  "You put your key under the car?"

  Casey elbowed him, catching him in the groin.

  "Ouch!"

  "It's an extra one," Casey muttered. "I locked the other one inside. And don't you dare say a word."

  Gabe dangled the keys in front of her, and Casey fumed. Then he tried to move, but bumped his head on the engine and moaned.

  "Listen, Casey, be fair about this and hear me out. I'm sorry. It's just... you look so different than last night."

  "So do you, you lying snake. In fact, I think I liked you better as the dimwitted plumber."

  "Dimwitted? You thought I was dimwitted?"

  Casey nodded and snatched the keys from his hand. "Yes." You stuttered when you came in." She heaved a disgusted sight. "I guess it was all an act, so I'd believe you were the plumber. What I can't figure out is how you knew I needed one."

  "I didn't. I mean I came to take you out, then..." Gabe clamped his lips together, realizing he'd just stuck his foot in his mouth.

  Casey's eyes widened in understanding. Fury practically oozed from her mouth. "I see. You came to take me out dressed like a bum, then you saw me and decided I wasn't attractive enough for you! That's just like a man. You want a combination Suzy Homemaker sex slave."

  Casey began scooting out from beneath the car, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. She kicked him, and he yelped, then released her.

  "Dammit, Casey, stop kicking me and give me a chance to talk to you."

  Casey quickly escaped his outstretched hand and scrambled to her feet. Still flat on his back, he had a great view of her ankles. But her accusations stung.

  He wasn't normally obsessed with a woman's looks. In fact, he'd placed looks number three on his list of qualities to look for in a woman, the first being neat and a homemaker, the second understanding the demands of his job. Casey's implication that he was shallow hurt. Excuses raced through his head, but how could he defend himself when she was right?

  Excuses or not, he couldn't let Casey get away.

  He slid from underneath the car and stood then straightened his clothing, Casey ran a hand through her disheveled hair, drawing his gaze to the decadent silky strands. He itched to finger the luscious mass, but jammed his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her as Casey unlocke
d the door.

  "So, all this today was payback? You wanted revenge."

  Casey glanced up at him and squared her shoulders. Gabe towered over her, but relaxed his stance when she took a step backward. He knew his height was intimidating, and she was a small woman. The last thing he needed was to frighten her. She'd probably sue him for slander and intimidation tactics, too. He had enough to grovel over already.

  "I wanted you to see what you missed last night." Casey planted her hands on her small hips, then jutted up her chin. "If you'd shown up at the right time, I would have been dressed exactly like this. I bought this dress for our evening out."

  She put up a good show of anger, but hurt shimmered in her eyes.

  He sucked in a deep breath as the dress stretched across her breasts and hips, accentuating her soft feminine curves. She looked young and vulnerable, and made him feel like a heel. Maybe he should crawl back under the car and let her run over him a few times.

  "The purple and orange hair? The blue lips?"

  "Henry S. put Kool-aid in my hair while I was asleep. The blue came from his jawbreaker."

  "The green gunk?"

  "It was a facial mask. I was trying to... oh, rats, forget it." Casey gripped the door handle and took a sudden interest in the toes of her shoes.

  Gabe tensed. Dammit, she was going to cry again.

  He wanted to take her in his arms and wipe out all the hurt, but judging from her expression, she'd never allow it. Hell, he had caused it. "If the mask was supposed to make you more beautiful, it worked." He hoped his voice sounded sincere, not like a come on. She was beautiful. How had he missed those violet eyes last night?

  Casey laughed, a soft sound that held no mirth. "Right."

  "It's true. But I don't understand." He reached for her, but she flinched away. "I was on time. Our date was for seven."

  Casey's expression softened a little as she studied him. "I was running late because of some problems at the juvenile home where I volunteer, but you came at 6:00."

  Gabe frowned.

  "In your article, you said you'd just flown in from out of state. What time zone were you coming from?"