The moment the man with intense gray eyes walked into the country-western bar, Leah Morris sensed she was going to do something foolish.

Since arriving in Austin, Texas, two days earlier for job interviews, she felt like a different person from the shy teacher who'd spent most of her life in a small Tennessee town. She felt like the sort of woman who wasn't afraid to talk to a stranger or even offer to buy him a drink.

Not that she planned to do it. The man's confident air warned that he probably had either more ladies than he could handle or one special lady. Even so, when he scanned the noisy room, the pucker between his eyebrows made her long to soothe away his worries.

Leah twirled a strand of black hair around her finger and smiled. With an almost physical jolt, she noticed the man gazing in her direction.

His expression warmed as he studied her with new interest. His reaction gave Leah butterflies.

She tried to make an objective assessment. The fellow appeared to be in his mid-thirties, a few years older than she was. His dark-blond hair had probably once been thicker, and his intelligent, slightly creased face might have been boyish in his twenties. Now he was a man she wished she knew a whole lot better.

Embarrassed by her reaction, Leah sipped her margarita and pretended an interest in the bluegrass band sawing merrily away across the room. The whisper of a sophisticated male scent alerted her when the man approached.

He stopped close by. "Mind if I join you?" To counter the loud music, he leaned over and spoke in her ear.

Leah's skin prickled. "Please do."

She'd applied for teaching positions in Austin and Seattle because she wanted more out of life than Downhome, Tennessee, had to offer. This was her first real adventure, and she intended to enjoy it.

"I'm Will." The man extended his hand.

"Leah." When they shook, she felt the restrained strength in his arm. "Do you come here often?"

"To the Wayward Drummer? Not as often as I'd like. Great, isn't it?" Swinging into the seat, he ordered a scotch and soda.

"How about you?"

"I'm new in town. A friend told me about it." The music rose to a crescendo, cutting off further comments.

Her companion rested his elbows behind him on the bar. No ring on his left hand, she observed, although that didn't prove anything.

The song ended. After the applause died, the bandleader announced the group was taking a short break. "Good," Leah said. "I mean, I was enjoying it, but I'd rather talk."

"So would I," the man replied. "But first I have a request."

"Oh?" Intrigued, she waited.

"Let's not pigeonhole each other." His gaze penetrated her defenses. "I don't care where you work or what your astrological sign is. I'd rather find out who you are as a person."

"Agreed!" Leah was glad to avoid being pegged as a small- town schoolteacher. "Now I have a question."

"Shoot." Although the bartender had set down his drink, Will ignored it and kept his eyes on Leah.

"Are you married?" A cheater wouldn't necessarily tell the truth, but she had to make the effort.

"Used to be. Not anymore." As if finally noticing the scotch, he picked up the glass and tossed down a quick swallow before adding, "That question says a lot about you."

"It does?" She hoped she didn't sound naive.

Will slanted her a teasing glance. "It tells me you're interested in me, which I like. And it goes straight to the point."

Leah waited a beat. He didn't continue, so she said, "How come you're not asking whether I'm married?"

He laughed, which made him look ten years younger. "Because it never occurred to me. You don't strike me as the kind of woman who plays around. Are you?"

"Of course not!"

When his hand cupped hers on the bar, Leah could scarcely swallow. She didn't understand why she was reacting so powerfully, except for the fact that she hadn't dated anyone seriously in the ten years since college. Or maybe because the guy had more mystery about him than anyone she'd ever met.

"Tell me your fantasy," he said in a low voice. "What kind of guy you want. The boy next door to settle down with?"

Being asked to put her longing into words was scary. "No. Someone exciting. Different. Someone who sets me free."

His mouth twisted. "That's a tall order."

"Think you can fill it?" She couldn't believe she'd said that. The challenge seemed to amuse him. "Until I walked in here and saw your beautiful smile, I'd have had my doubts." Will gave an easy shrug. "I can be anything you want. It's your call."

Leah bit her lip. She hadn't told him the rest of the fantasy.

It involved a lingering seduction by a stranger. But she suspected he'd guessed that.

This flirtation was crazy — dangerous and irresponsible. She knew nothing about Will, not even his last name. On the other hand, he knew nothing about her, either. Like how boring and conventional most people considered her.

"I'll bet you could," she mused.

"Could what?"

She peered around to make sure no one else overheard.

"Could be anything a woman wanted," she finished.

When his eyes widened, she imagined for an instant that she saw right inside him. She'd touched him in a way he hadn't expected, awakening something he hadn't felt in years.

Leah trusted her instincts. She had a knack for reading people. "What are we going to do about this?" Will asked. "You mean tonight?" But of course it had to be tonight. Leah was leaving tomorrow for a job interview in Seattle. While she would return if she got one of the jobs she'd applied for, there was no guarantee of that. And no guarantee that he'd be around if she did.

"Wait." He held up one hand. "I'm not trying to pressure you. Hey, we're both enjoying ourselves. Maybe it's enough that we're having this conversation. I don't mean to ruin it."

He'd noted her hesitation, Leah thought. She wasn't the only one good at reading people.

Another couple sat down two stools away, making her self- conscious about speaking up, and then the band filtered back from its break. Will appeared content to sit wordlessly as the musicians launched into another set.

She ought to be glad he respected her, Leah supposed. Instead, she struggled with disappointment and, at the same time, an aching awareness of him beside her. She drank in details: the muscles of his wrist beneath a thick silver watchband, a trace of roughness on his jaw that he'd missed while shaving.

She wished she dared ask the questions they'd skipped. What kind of work he did. How his marriage had ended.

When he shifted on the seat, his tight shoulders revealed tension. All along, without realizing it, she'd been detecting signs of restless energy and coiled need.

A need she realized she could release.

He turned sharply, his gaze boring into hers. A silent query disturbed the air as clearly as if he'd put it into words.

Was she as ready as he was?

Yes, she thought, her lips parting. Oh, yes.

On the far side of the room, a fiddler attacked his instrument with passion. Leah only half heard the notes wailing to the rafters. Her heart rate sped up and fire danced across her skin as Will stroked her hair. When he removed his hand, she felt a physical sense of loss.

She set down her glass, and he did the same. As they got up, he tossed some bills onto the counter and took her arm.

They made their way into a steamy July night. "I'm parked around back," she said. "You, too?"

He nodded. As they reached the lot, out of sight of other patrons, he caught Leah's arm.

She touched his shoulder and her face tilted upward. As he drank in the sight of her, his thumb traced her cheek and hairline. Then his mouth found hers.

Leah reveled in his eager kiss, in the caress trailing down her waist, in his spicy lime scent. When he cupped her bottom and brought her against his hardness, she thought she might melt.

Will lifted his head. "Are you sure about this?"

Leah rested her head on his shoulder. He was the perfect height, perhaps five inches taller, so she fit against him as if they'd been sculpted from the same block of marble. "Yes."

"I'll follow you," he said.

She gave him the name of her motel in case he got lost. Alone in her rental car, navigating the glittering downtown streets, Leah knew she could still change her mind. Still do the sensible thing. Still back off from taking a ridiculous risk in all sorts of ways that didn't bear thinking about. And there were moral issues that she'd been raised to respect.

Just this once, why not take a chance?

She had no idea where her actions might lead, she acknowledged as she checked the rearview mirror and saw his headlights a car length behind. The funny part was that she didn't expect to get a lot out of the experience. What she wanted to do, most of all, was give.

She doubted Will had come into the Wayward Drummer to pick up a woman. Instead, she had the impression he'd been fighting his desire for her. This man was complicated.

She doubted she'd get a chance to figure him out. They might never meet again.

At thirty-two, Leah had stopped agonizing about finding Mr. Right. Since she wanted children, she planned to adopt a youngster who might otherwise languish in a series of foster homes or in an orphanage overseas. After she got settled in a new job, of course.

The decision not to worry about whether she ever married had freed her to take chances. Like inviting Will back to her room. Like coming to Austin in the first place.

Leah had chosen the Texas state capital for a lot of reasons: its large university, its bustling economy and a country-music industry that reminded her of Nashville, where she'd attended college. She'd also come because her cousin Josie had been urging her to visit.

Unfortunately, Josie had demonstrated the irresponsibility common to Leah's father's side of the family. She hadn't mentioned that her boyfriend had recently moved into her one-bedroom apartment, bringing along a large, shaggy dog. There wasn't even room for Leah to hang up her clothes, which in any case would be covered with dog hairs before she got to an interview. So she'd rented a room.

She'd arranged for two job interviews: at a public and a private school. After having dinner with her cousin last night, Leah had squeezed in a visit to the State Capitol and the LBJ Library and Museum and bought a large poster to show her students this fall. Unless a new job came through faster than expected, she'd still be teaching at her familiar classroom in Downhome.

Tonight, she'd decided to check out a bar her best friend had recommended — a tip from someone Karen had met recently. What a lucky break, Leah thought.

The rearview mirror showed Will in place behind her as she caught an east-west artery toward the airport area. Leah recalled a conversation she'd had a few months earlier with Jenni Vine, who'd recently moved to Downhome from L.A. In dire need of doctors, the town had advertised widely and Jenni, a family practitioner, had been the first hired. She'd also become a friend.

Jenni had offered to prescribe contraception before Leah left on her trip, but she'd declined. After drifting apart from her college boyfriend ten years ago, she'd been celibate, and certainly hadn't expected to go to bed with anyone soon.

Contraception. What was she going to do about that? she wondered. She'd have to use something.

As she neared the motel, Leah watched in vain for a pharmacy. Still debating what to do, she turned into the lot and parked outside her room.

Will eased his dark, late-model sedan into a space some distance away. Leah wondered whether he'd chosen it so she wouldn't see decals that might indicate where he worked. Since they'd agreed not to pigeonhole each other, he had a right to his privacy.

She enjoyed the way he strolled toward her with quiet confidence, neither arrogant nor uncertain. "Problem?" he asked when he saw her expression.

"I'm not on the Pill." That ought to be blunt enough. "I didn't see a drugstore."

"It's taken care of." Catching her hand, he added, "Not that I do this sort of thing often. I just believe in being prepared."

Leah refused to worry about why he considered it necessary to be prepared. She hadn't taken him for a hermit, had she?

When she opened the door, she noticed at once how impersonal the room looked. The only signs that it belonged to her were her book on the nightstand and the robe tossed over a chair. It even smelled impersonal.

Will closed the door and, standing behind her, slipped his hands around Leah's waist. Feeling his body press into her back as he stroked upward through her blouse, she relaxed, trusting him. When he cupped her breasts, she gasped with pleasure.

Their contact felt so intimate. And powerfully stimulating as his thumbs aroused her nipples and his mouth soothed the sensitive curve of her neck. Then Leah turned, and Will kissed her on the mouth.