She could see tender young plants and the carefully packed mulch around them. She imagined he'd done the digging there himself. Some sort of trailing flowering vine, she supposed, that would, in time, grow and tumble color over the fence.
A patient man, Byron De Witt, she mused. One who would enjoy watching those vines grow and bloom and tangle year after year.
And she knew he would experience a quiet satisfaction when the first bud blossomed. Then he would tend it. The man enjoyed tending things.
Puppies yapped, the sea murmured, and the wind trailed lightly through the fluttering cypress leaves. As the sky deepened from blue to indigo splashed with scarlet, she felt a quick flutter around her heart. There were, she supposed, perfect spots in the world. It seemed Byron had found one of them and claimed it.
And so did he look perfect, she realized, with the wind in his hair, puppies at his feet. That long, mouthwatering, muscular build was tucked snug and sexy into denim and cotton. Her reaction to it, to him, completely unprecedented, was to grab hold and tear in with fingers and teeth. She wanted to taste and take. She wanted to be taken.
She wanted.
With legs less than steady, she descended the short flight of steps to the yard. The puppies dashed up to her, yipping and leaping. Even as she crouched to welcome them, she kept her eyes on Byron.
"What did you plant along the fence?"
"Wisteria. It'll take a little while to establish." He looked over to the fence line. "But it'll be worth the wait. There was always some growing on a trellis outside my bedroom back in Georgia. It's a scent that stays with you."
"You've already done a terrific job with the place. It's gorgeous out here. Must take a lot of time to add all these touches."
"When you find what you're looking for, you take care of it." He crossed to her. "We can take a walk down to the beach after dinner if you like." He stroked a hand over her hair, much as he had done to the dogs' fur. Then he stepped back. "Catch this." He snapped his fingers twice. "Sit."
Butts wiggling frantically, both dogs sat. He had them offer their paws, and after some confusion, lie down. Though their bodies quivered with suppressed excitement.
"Very impressive," Kate commented. "Does everyone do what you tell them?"
"It's just a matter of asking often enough in the right way." He pulled two dog biscuits out of his back pocket. "And bribery usually works." The dogs took the treats and raced away to feast. "I've got a nice red Bordeaux breathing. Why don't I get it, and you can tell me about this interesting day of yours?"
She lifted a hand, laid it on his chest. Felt the heat, the rhythm. "There's something I think I want to say to you."
"All right. Let's go inside." He thought it was best to get into the brightly lit kitchen, away from the sumptuous sunset and seductive night air.
But she kept her hand on his chest and stepped closer. It must have been their color, Byron thought, that made her eyes glow so erotically through the twilight shadows.
"I was going to avoid men like you, on a personal level," she began. "It was to be a kind of principle, a rule of thumb. I'm very fond of rules and principles."
He arched a brow. "And generalities?"
"Yes, and generalities, because they usually have some basis in fact, or they wouldn't have gotten to be generalities. I'd decided after a couple of unfortunate experiences that when something, or someone, looked too good, it was probably bad for me. You may be bad for me, Byron."
"Have you been working on this theory long?"
"Actually I have, but it may need some further adjustments. In any case, I didn't like you when I first met you."
"Now there's a surprise."
She smiled and disconcerted him by moving closer. "I didn't like you because I started wanting you the first minute. That was uncomfortable for me. You see, I prefer wanting things that are tangible and that can be acquired through time, planning, and effort. I don't like being uncomfortable, or wanting someone I don't understand, who is in all probability bad for me, and who doesn't fit my requirements."
"You have requirements too?" He didn't care for the sensation of being annoyed and aroused at the same time.
"Absolutely. One of the main requirements is a lack of demand. I don't think you're an undemanding man,