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himself for inspection. "Dean Schubert's a good administrator and one hell of a politician, but we

both know it's part of his job to talk whichever way the wind's blowing," he said with an easy

smile. "And certain influential people don't want me to be seen in a favorable light lately. I'm

very glad that Mary has the good sense not to listen to idle gossip and find out things for herself.

I respect that, don't you? After all, appearances can be deceiving."

"Hmm. You have a point there, son." Wallis's bristling had died down, but he was still frowning.

Tim stood to one side, watching everything in fascination. "I also heard from Schubert how you

were quite the hero on his yacht Monday."

"'l just did what needed to be done," Chance replied with a hint of discomfort. He glanced at

Mary and rested a hand on her shoulder. Her bare skin shivered at his touch, and he stroked her

gently with a light, subtle caress that only they were aware of. He seemed to come to some

decision then, and said to Wallis, "Look, Mr. Newman. I appreciate your protectiveness, and I

share it to some extent. But Mary's done a pretty good job of looking after herself so far, and will

continue to make her own choices whether you and I like it or not. I can promise you, though,

that I won't be doing anything against her wishes."

After a moment of considering that, Wallis conceded with a sigh. Mary took Chance's hand,

stood and smiled down at the old man. "Don't worry so much, Grampa," she said gently. "I'm

looking forward to tonight. I'll tell you all about it in the morning."

"It's my job to worry," grumbled Wallis, but his eyes had softened when he looked at her; "Go on

now, you two, skedaddle. I'm missing my movie."

"Good night," Tim said brightly.

Mary gave him a quick hug. "Good night, Timmy. I'll bring you some caramel corn."

"See you later, Tim." Chance curled an arm around her shoulders and nodded down to Wallis.

"Glad to meet you. Maybe we can talk more again sometime."

His gaze fell on Wallis's chessboard on a corner table and he paused. "Perhaps over a game of

chess?"

Wallis's eyes lit up. "Oh, do you play?"

"A little," Chance said offhandedly, the devil-back in his eyes.

Mary recalled Cassie's warning on Thursday and covered her mouth to hide a grin. Who was the

prey, and who was the piranha here? Don't, don't say anything. Leave them to work out their own

footing. Wallis invited him for dinner next week, and then Chance and Mary escaped into the

sunny warm evening.

When they were outside, Mary glanced up at him. He still had his arm around her, and his lithe

body brushed against her side as they walked. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "Grampa can be

very old fashioned sometimes."

Chance gave her a quick smile. "Don't apologize. I like him. If I'm ever lucky enough to have

children and grandchildren, I'll be the same way."

He wanted children. Mary hugged that knowledge to herself and examined it carefully. She could

just imagine what kind of a father Chance would be: gentle but firm. nurturing, protective, those

square, capable hands cradling a newborn baby. She sucked in a breath, amazed and rather

disturbed at the strength of the ravenous hunger that gripped her.

Chance opened the passenger door and helped her up into the Jeep. Mary watched as he rounded

the front of the car, running his fingers through his hair in that familiar, habitual gesture.

They pulled onto the highway, Chance resting a hand on top of the steering wheel. The dark,

concealing sunglasses highlighted the precision of his chiselled features, the-clean angle of his

jaw, the carved mobility of that wide..sensual mouth.

He glanced at her. "If you want, we can roll up the windows and I'll put the air-conditioning on.

It'd help keep that floppy, pretty thing in your hair."

She felt as pleased as if he'd paid her an extravagant compliment. "No, it's all right. I enjoy the

fresh air."

"You look good in red. You should wear it more often." "

I will, she almost said. And bit her tongue. And thanked him demurely. She was starting to get

worried about how ridiculously uncontrolled her impulses had become regarding him. It was

another thing to think about when she had time. She was normally such a level headed, calm

person. Or was that because her life had been so predictable and ordered before now?

Maybe she was more tempestuous than she realized. Certainly she felt more alive than she ever

had.

Chance laid a hand on her knee. "I meant to ask how did work go yesterday? Did Dr. Pretense

make a stink?"

Dr.... She started to laugh in surprise. "No, we pretty much avoided each other. It was uncomfortable, but not as bad as it could have been, I guess. It's rather hard to tell how things

will be in the long run."

"And it doesn't exactly enhance a job you're already uncertain about," he added.

"Well; no." She sighed. "Still, I don't have to think about that until three o'clock tomorrow."

"Let's make it a rule," he suggested. "No talking about work at all tonight, starting now."

"At least not about my work." She smiled. "I'd love to hear more about what you do, though.

Cassie said that you were a war reporter."

They had reached the highway that led to the fairgrounds, where traffic was slow and heavy. He

took his hand from her knee to downshift. "I wouldn't call it that, a war reporter. I write a

syndicated column on international affairs, and write about peacetime as much as I do war. It's

just that a lot of it involves military action. And a lot of travel, of course."

Mary hadn't heard of him before, but she didn't really keep up on whose name was on the bylines

when she had time to read the paper. "Cassie worries about you. She said your family was hoping

to convince you to settle down."

"Getting back in touch with family is why I've taken a nice tame teaching job this summer. I may

just hang around Cherry Bay until something else comes up."

He must have sensed her troubled reaction because he gave her a reassuring smile. "'The university has offered me a permanent teaching position, so who knows? Maybe I'll take it. I

haven't decided yet."

She stared out the window, her brows drawn together. Visiting family was a good temporary lure,

but Cassie had said that he'd won awards for his work. He must be highly regarded and very

dedicated to his job. And settling down was harder than it first seemed to someone who was-used

to life on the road. "You must keep a close eye on the news." Did he ever see exciting things

happen and wish he were there?

He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "It's what I know. Mostly I'm a teacher now, with nothing

more serious on my mind than whether or not I want to try writing that book I always meant to

write:"

She dragged herself out of her preoccupation and asked, "What sort of a journalism class do you

teach?"

"It's called Government-Press Relations. How to talk to generals; senators, ambassadors,

receptionists-you know, annoy powerful people who really wish-you'd just go away." He

grinned. "I've become very good at that."

She stared at the look of amused nostalgia on his face. Annoying powerful people, good grief!

She drew a breath, again seeing the fascinating, alien species in him-and wondering how much

they could really have in common. Mary didn't like to annoy anybody if she could help it. "Have

you been in any conflicts?" She winced again. He would have had to have been, wouldn't he?

"A few." The grin was fading. "The military doesn't like the press to get too close, and once

we've ignored their advice and come in anyway, we're on our own. They -don't have time to

baby-sit. Most people want to talk to the press, though. The really famous tragedies involving

journalists, like hostage situations and executions, are pretty rare." His mouth twisted wryly. "It's

not quite a walk in the park, but most of the time it's just a job."

He made it sound so easy. She knew he had to be glossing over some things. Had he ever been

wounded, maybe lost friends? He must have been friends with Cassie's husband, who'd been in

the military. When he'd driven her -home-the day they'd met, he'd said that he'd lost touch with

his friends, and everybody he knew was a work contact. What an alienating job. And what if

something blew up half a world away? Was he going to leave again?

The words fell out of her mouth. "Have you ever been hurt?"

He hesitated. "Once. Not badly."

"What happened?"

"I was in Belfast. A car bomb went off and I caught some glass in my shoulder from a nearby

window."

She stared out the window again and confessed, "It sounds terrifying."

His fingertips brushed her cheek, and she jerked in startlement, turning to face him. For a

moment she saw him in an entirely different light-a hard-faced, enigmatic stranger -with shielded

eyes and impenetrable thoughts. Then he took off his sunglasses and crinkled his eyes at her, and

her vision realigned itself until she was looking at Chance again.

"It was a long time ago," he said quietly. "And I don't like that worried look on your face."

She smoothed her expression over quickly. "I'm not worried."

"Good, there's no reason to be. I'm a teacher for now," he said firmly. "And the only terror in that

is what I inflict on my students, if they try to slide by without doing their work."

She chuckled. "Now that sounds terrifying."

"You better believe it. I'm their worst nightmare. There are rumours to that effect on campus, and

trust me, all of those are true."

Mary knew from her student days that the university was one of the worst gossip mills in town.

She could just imagine all the other rumours that would have circulated about such a good-

looking, sexy, eligible man. The university was probably where all the gossip about him had

started.

The fair rides had been in sight over the tree line for-several minutes now. They finally reached

the turnoff where traffic controllers motioned for the cars to park in lines set up in nearby fields.

Mary hopped to the ground and stretched while Chance came up beside her and took her hand.

They went through the front entrance line, bought wristbands for unlimited rides, and paused just

inside the gate.

The fair was noisy, crowded, dirty and very colorful,: Mary looked around excitedly. So much to

do, so little time.

Chance was watching her, the corners of his mouth quirking in amusement. So what; she didn't

care. She inhaled deeply of the delicious smells coming from the food booths.

"Ladies' choice. What do you want to do?" he asked. "Eat something, go on a few rides, try to

win Timmy a stuffed tarantula? There're the farm exhibits, too."

"I want to do everything, but could we eat first?"

Hungrily she read the signs advertising shaved-steak sandwiches, Polish sausage, corn dogs,

cotton candy, candied apples, lemonade ... "I'm starving-I haven't eaten since I got home this

morning."

His eyebrows rose. "Somebody needs to feed you more regularly. Between work and sleep,

you're not getting your three squares a day."

She grinned at him self-consciously. "I have a high metabolism, too. I can keep up with Tim, and

he's fourteen."

He laughed. "I can believe it. Come on, let's eat supper. Just don't complain when we hit the

roller coaster."

She trotted to keep up with him. "Did I mention a cast-iron stomach as well?"

"Maybe I should worry about myself. It wouldn't be too genteel to be sick all over your shoes,

would it?"

They bought Polish sausages on kaiser rolls, cheddar fries, candied apples and sodas, and went to

sit at a nearby picnic table. While they ate the spicy meal, Mary was overly conscious of how his

hard, denim-clad thigh pressed against hers, and how he turned to her when he spoke. He was

finished before she was and propped one hand behind her on the picnic bench, leaning over her.

He was making a cave of himself around her again, and she had no doubt that it was very

deliberate. The teasing, flirting light from earlier that week was back in his eyes, and the constant

awareness of him was a febrile tension that underscored everything she said or did.

She finished her apple and licked her sticky fingers slowly, eyes sparkling. Was he trying to

seduce her? And was he succeeding?

I find you attractive, he said with every glance and brush of his body, with his instant responsiveness to her moods.

And she found that she felt attractive in a way that Victor had never managed to make her feel.

When she gestured as she talked, and every time she moved her body, she was aware of herself

as a desirable young woman in the presence of an extremely sexy man. It was heady stuff, and it

went to her head like an exotic wine.

They walked through the farm exhibits next. Mary liked the horses best and so they lingered,

petting the soft, inquiring noses of the curious ones. There was a small gray donkey in one stall

with his nose in a far corner and his back to the passersby. His long ears were laid back against

his head and he looked so disgusted, she had to laugh.

"Poor fellow, it looks like he's had enough and wants to go home."

Chance leaned one shoulder against a post and regarded the donkey. "Reminds me of a bad-