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"Let me taste you." His voice was unrecognizable, his face harsh with passion. "I will die if I don't. Let me have all of you."

She could no more say no -- could no more deny him than stop breathing. Taking that as a yes, he used his mouth on her. Shock came first and then was overcome by the sheer passion that tore through her body like a lightning bolt.

Tears spilled from her eyes. Her lips were trembling, body vibrating.

He was doing things to her that she never dreamed possible.

Not even the romance novels she read had ever described the emotions tumbling through her young body.

She clung to him, feeling everything and wanting it all.

She wanted to put her brand on him and wanted his brand on her.

To keep, to savor, to hold when he finally left as she knew he had to. One day.

When he lowered his body over hers, she reached for him, ached to feel him deep inside her.

She was sobbing by the time he covered her body with his.

She was not the only one. His body was shuddering, and he was as hard as steel.

His hands framed her face. The words he wanted to say were stuck inside his throat.

He could not say them with his mouth. But they were hung there between them.

When he slid into her, he had to wait for a few seconds before he could move again.

And he tried to be gentle. But her arms wrapped around his neck, her body easing towards his with an eagerness that spurred him on.

He swallowed her gasp, his body driving into hers. He knew he was lost and could not do anything about it.

Present day…

She dragged herself from the throes of what was to her a nightmare of memories from the past and sat up in bed, her breathing shaky, her body coated with moisture.

Taking a deep fortifying breath as she glanced automatically at the bedside clock.

Two A.M. Great! Now it was debatable if she was ever going back to sleep.

Dragging long, elegant fingers through the tangle of hair, Maxie swung her legs off the bed and almost stepped on Brutus. Hissing out a breath, she crouched down to feather soothing fingers through the dog's thick pelt. Crouching down, she hugged the animal to her and felt the soothing comfort.

"That's it boy, just a damn dream. Nothing more.

" If she felt like weeping, it would pass.

Just like always. It had been a long time since she dreamed of him.

It must be due to the fact that she had seen his photo in a magazine, a customer had left at the store.

And there he was, big as life, looking sober and completely gorgeous, with one arm around the waist of an equally stunning Asian beauty.

A woman she recognized as being the star of a long running soap opera.

The pain that had lanced through her heart had been unexpected and unwelcome. She was over him, she told herself. They were welcome to each other.

"Bastard," she whispered in Brutus' thick coat. "Jerk. He broke my heart. Shattered it into a million pieces."

Sucking in a breath and smiling as her dog nudged her chest as if in comfort, she took another breath and rubbed his head.

"I'm fine. It's time to get some work done. Paperwork that I have been putting off far too long."

Giving Brutus another rub, she rose to go and get her robe.

When he started yipping, she shook her head.

"Okay boy, I hear you. Time to take a run outside."

Snapping his collar on as a precaution, she led him downstairs.

She followed him out and stood there in the blast of cold air -- her robe wrapped securely around her as she watched him running off to do his business.

The morning air was bracing, and she could smell the fall weather approaching.

The leaves on her trees were yet to start changing, but she knew that in a few weeks she would have to think about calling Ben, her handyman to start raking and cutting down branches.

She had opted for a house instead of an apartment.

Her parents had been very disappointed when she announced she was moving out of their place.

They had sold the home she had grown up in and were now living in a swanky townhouse uptown.

She had preferred to go her own way. They had been annoyed and baffled when she had chosen that route.

Just as they had been when she had chosen not to follow in either of their footsteps and had been further horrified when she declared she was opening a boutique.

They loved her, she knew that without a doubt. But they were also self-absorbed, each caught up in their own respective careers. She did not begrudge them the time they spent focusing on themselves and knew in their own fashion they loved her.

She called them every other day to do her usual check, and they would talk about this and that.

Mavis Priestley was still acting -- a regular on a very enterprising and popular soap that had been running for more than two decades.

Her father was still running his practice and kept saying he was going to retire shortly.

They were also constantly trying to pair her with one attractive man after another.

Hugging her elbows, she realized that she had never been much for relationships.

After what had happened with Kai, she had concentrated fiercely on her studies and stayed away from the boys who had been drawn to her.

She had been so successful, that she had been dubbed 'ice queen' at NYU and that had suited her fine.

She had tried again when she finished college and had failed. Brian, that had been his name, had accused her of being a damn tease and as cold as a fish when she had shied away from the intimacy. It occurred to her then that she was frozen in time.

"Come on boy. Let's get back inside."

Snapping her fingers, she had the dog bounding towards her and up the steps.

Damn him! she thought angrily as she locked the door and reset the alarm.

"What you need is a good bout of reckless sex with a random guy," her best friend, Yvette announced as she topped off the glass.

She was practically naked, the shorts inching towards indecency as they skimmed her crotch.

The top was molded to her generous breasts, highlighting the fact that she was not wearing a bra.

Her hair was in spikes; finger combed into a style that suited her narrow face.

Maxie had no idea how such a completely outrageous and flamboyantly beautiful woman had become her best friend.

They were as different as night and day.

They were having lunch at the swanky new restaurant on Picking Street, a few blocks from Maxie's store.

Yvette was a model and a very popular one.

She had just dumped husband number three and swore that she was off men.

"They're such heartless bastards. I think I'm going for women now." She had given her friend a considering look that had her laughing.

"Count me out. I love penis."

"Considering that you haven't been near one in oh, ages, I'm surprised to hear that."

Now, she handed her friend the full glass of Chardonnay.

"I'm working," Maxie protested.

"You're walking and by the time you reach the store, the alcohol would be out of your system. Besides, we both need the intake."

Settling back and sending a flirtatious smile towards the completely dazzled waiter, she flicked him away.

The two women turned heads when they walked into the restaurant.

Maxie wearing one of her own designs, a snug fitting gold and purple wool that skimmed her knees and gold and amethyst earrings and matching chain around her neck.

Her wealth of dark brown hair tipped with blonde was caught at the nape of her neck into an elegant chignon.

Yvette with curves showing, the long ankle length jacket opened to reveal her skimpy outfit.

"Like I was saying--" Yvette skimmed her gaze over the outrageous necklace and earrings her friend was wearing and wondered if she could pull it off. "You need sex."

"That's your answer to everything," Maxie pointed out as she dipped into her California salad with relish.

"It usually is therapeutic." She lifted her glass to her lips and let her eyes scan the lunch time crowd. A smile curved her violently red painted lips, golden brown eyes sparkling.

"What about him?"

"Who?" Turning her head to the left, Maxie took in the suavely dressed financier who was staring at them blatantly even though he was with someone.

"Not on your life," she laughed.

"It's just sex darling and rumor has it that he's great in the sack."

"I don't care if he's Hercules in bed. No."

Her friend gave her a speculative look.

"Know what your problem is?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"You want love and romance."

Maxie toyed with the stem of her glass.

"What's wrong with that?"

"It did not work out when you were eighteen. You have to be practical." Yvette continued. "Choose the setting from the get-go. Be practical and sensible. Take the initiative and tell yourself that this is just sex and nothing more."

Maxie shrugged, swirling the last remnants of her wine in her glass before placing it back on the table.

"Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, but I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting a little commitment to go with the sex."

Yvette arched a perfectly sculpted brow, her golden-brown eyes narrowing playfully.

"Old-fashioned? Darling, you're practically ancient in this lunch crowd if that's your stance."

Maxie smirked, leaning back and crossing her legs elegantly beneath the table, her tone playful yet measured.

"It's not ancient. It's selective. I prefer quality over quantity, unlike some people I could name."

Yvette chuckled, her laughter rich and melodious.

"Touché. But don't come crying to me when you're still waiting for Prince Charming to show up with a glass slipper while everyone else is having fun with their frogs."

Maxie shook her head, spearing another bite of her salad as her gaze drifted across the room.

Her thoughts momentarily flickered to the financier Yvette had pointed out earlier, but she dismissed the idea quickly.

He may have been charming in appearance, but charm alone wasn't enough anymore.

She knew exactly what she wanted -- and that she wouldn't settle for less.

"Frogs don't interest me," she said firmly, redirecting her focus back to Yvette. "And you know what? Neither do princes. I'm looking for something real, and I won't apologize for that."

Yvette raised her glass in a mock toast, grinning.

"To Maxie, the hopeless romantic among us. May your fairy tale come true -- before you turn fifty, preferably."

Maxie laughed, raising her own glass, the melody of their shared humor drawing the attention of a few nearby tables.

"Cheers to that," she replied, her voice light, though the determination in her eyes hinted at an unyielding resolve.