Jax glanced anxiously at his watch, phone to his ear, as he paced in the bedroom of his suite at the Plaza. "I don't care what you have to do, Addie. Just reschedule that meeting with Kliner and Company!" He paused as his long-time assistant, Addie Walsh, chewed him up one side and down the other for once again giving her absolutely no warning before postponing yet another important meeting. He smiled at her tirade, holding the phone slightly away from his ear, as her voice reached a fevered pitch in the midst of her harangue. "Now, Addie, I know that you can smooth talk these guys into rescheduling at a later date. Tell them an emergency came up, and that it was of the utmost importance."

He laughed as his curious assistant continued to needle him for more information. "Well, Addie, if you must know, I'm going to be spending the rest of the day doing some legwork for what could turn out to be a very intriguing and fulfilling merger." He smiled as she asked if he had sent her the specs on it yet. "No, you don't have any information on this particular prospective merger, and I think it's best that I do most of the groundwork on this one. I have a rather personal interest in it succeeding," he grinned as he tossed the double-entendres out right and left, knowing that Addie was completely oblivious to any of this.

"No, my father has no idea about this prospective merger, but if things go well, he will be among the first to learn of it," he grinned, knowing that Addie's interest would be piqued further now. "Addie… Addie, please! I'm on a tight schedule now. I have an important lunch meeting elsewhere in the city, and I have several things to handle before I go to it, so, please, just handle the execs at Kliner… And, before you hang up, can you give me the number of that private investigation firm we used a few months back to do some background checks here in the New York area…"

He waited as Addie pulled up the information on her computer. "Peterman and Associates… And the number is…?" He listened as she rattled off the agency's number and he closed his eyes, mentally locking it into storage in his brain. "Thanks, Addie! As always, you've been a true lifesaver!" He hung up the phone quickly before Addie could scold him again for pulling out of the Kliner meeting at the last minute.

He knew he was probably crazy for blowing off an important meeting like this to chase after a woman, no less, but for some reason Jax couldn't get her out of his mind. He had tried unsuccessfully to forget Brenda Wilding, but her face and her body were burned inexorably into his brain and maybe even into his soul. There was more to his fascination with this woman than just the obvious physical attraction. She was unquestionably beautiful - the kind of woman who could make even a blind man take notice when she walked into a room - but there was something more that had drawn him to her. Certainly her blatant rebuff of his flirtations had challenged him, but there was something beyond the challenge of this woman that intrigued him. He felt connected to her for some reason that he couldn't explain, and he needed to know why he felt this way.

He glanced back at his watch again: 10:45. It was getting late, and he still had lots to do before he caught a cab to take him to the Village and his new "job." Jax picked up the phone again and punched in the number for Peterman and Associates that Addie had just given him. He waited as the receptionist paged Tom Peterman for him. He needed to know more about the mysterious Ms. Wilding, and he knew that this man and this agency could handle the assignment easily. And, as he had told Addie, he planned to handle a lot of the legwork himself, and with a little luck, a lot of charm, and a couple of good deli sandwiches, he hoped that by the end of this afternoon, he'd know a whole lot more about the beautiful Ms. Wilding and why she intrigued him so much.

Brenda stared at the proofs of Jack Thomas. She had told him she'd destroy the film, and she had had every intention of doing so, but once she'd returned to her place she'd felt compelled to develop the film instead. Now she stood staring at the black-and-white shots, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu as she looked at them.

There was something eerily familiar about the way he ran and the way he smiled at her and the way he looked at her. It was like he could see clear into her soul - like he held the other half of heart. She had felt like that with only one other man before, and that had ended badly years ago. She had given herself freely to him, and then he had just disappeared, and she had fallen completely apart. She had finally been able to put him behind her, she'd thought. She'd neatly tucked away the memories of him and that time in the far recesses of her mind, but now, for some reason, looking at these pictures brought all those long-buried memories back to haunt her.

She laid the contact sheets down on the table and walked to the bookshelves on the far wall of the living room area of her combination apartment/studio. She stood on tiptoe to pull down a book on European castles that was hidden among the dozens of travel books she had amassed over the past few years. She stared at the book for a few moments, briefly debating whether to put it back on the shelf or to open it. Finally, she clutched it to her chest and settled back onto the overstuffed couch. Opening the book carefully, she closed her eyes and reverently pulled out an 8x10 black-and-white photograph that she had hidden inside years ago.

She took a deep breath and then slowly opened her eyes, gazing at it first professionally, appraising the composition and the content of the photograph, then finally allowing herself to once again appreciate the beauty of the man pictured. It was a nude, but tastefully done. He was resting on his haunches, his right side to the camera, his back rounded forward, his face bent down and hidden completely by his arms that wrapped around his chest. The play of the light and the shadows served to accentuate the rippling muscles in his arms and his back and his thighs, and it underscored the power that his body possessed. This was just one of many photographs she had taken of him in the weeks they had been together, but it was the only one that she had kept.

Perhaps she had saved it because it exemplified who he had been to her. The power that exuded from this picture depicted the power that he had held over her heart, and the shadows illustrated that he had never really shown himself fully to her while they were together. She grazed her fingers slowly across the matte finish of the photo, forcing herself to remember that time - to remember this man, Jarrod Davis, or JD as she had called him - the one man she had ever loved and the one man who had nearly destroyed her.

It had been only four years before, but it was literally another lifetime ago now. She had been barely twenty-one, just out of college, and on her own in Europe for the first time. It had been just a few months after her father's death, and she and her sister, Julia, had had yet another fight about her trust fund, so Brenda had packed a small bag with a few essential items of clothing, her passport, her beloved camera, the remaining money in her rapidly dwindling bank account, and her naivete, and left her sister's London flat and headed for the Cote D'Azure of Monaco.

It had been early May when she'd arrived in Monaco, and she'd immediately fallen in love with the beauty of the area. She spent every waking moment exploring the area, snapping pictures of everything she saw, hoping one day to have enough pictures for her own photographic essay of the area for some gallery or maybe use the pictures for a book that she could have published. She also took pictures for tourists while she was there in order to have enough money to eat and to keep the small, one bedroom flat she had rented by the week. It was nothing fancy, but it was clean, and it had a breathtaking view of the azure waters of the Mediterranean. Taking pictures for tourists was how she had met JD…

She had been on the beach that day, taking pictures, when she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. He was just coming out if the water, and the late morning sun made the water running off his tanned and toned, scantily clad body glisten like a thousand sparkling gems. On a beach that was filled with the rich and the beautiful, he still caught the appreciative stare of every female there and the envious glare of every male there, but she had been the only one who had caught his eye.

She had tried not to stare as he walked toward her, but she couldn't help herself. He was magnificent and he was heading straight toward her! She had tried to appear as nonchalant as possible, but it was difficult because her heart was pounding out of control in her chest and her legs seemed to have turned to mush at his approach. She had to remind herself to breathe as he finally reached her and flashed her that breath-taking smile of his - that smile that was his and only his - until she had seen Jack Thomas give her nearly the identical smile this morning.

Brenda shook her head, trying to clear the image of Jack Thomas out of her head. She needed to remember JD now and what he had done to her. She had to remember in order to be strong again. She couldn't allow herself ever to feel what JD had made her feel so long ago, and what Jack Thomas had made her feel just this morning. She needed to relive the pain that JD had inflicted in order to resist any romantic urges she might have toward Mr. Thomas. She closed her eyes and leaned back into the folds of the huge couch, allowing the memories to draw her once again back to that beautiful Mediterranean beach on that warm spring morning…

"Hello, beautiful," he said, flashing her that remarkable smile of his. His voice seemed to have a slight East Coast accent to it. Brenda was surprised that he was an American; for some reason, she had assumed that he was French. "It seems to me that someone as beautiful as you should be the one being photographed, and not the other way around." He gave her bikini-clad body an appreciative head-to-toe appraisal, and Brenda felt a chill of delight go down her spine as she realized that of all the women on the beach, he had come to her.

"Thank you," she finally breathed, "but this is how I make my living - taking pictures for people."

"And it sounds like you're a fellow American, am I right?" She nodded. "Well, then, my dear compatriot, could I hire you to take some pictures for me?" he asked, running a large hand through his thick, dark hair and sending little droplets of water flying in all directions. His sapphire blue eyes sparkled as he looked at her, waiting for her reply, knowing instinctively that she wouldn't deny him his request.

She unconsciously licked her lips as she once again nodded mutely.

He smiled that dazzling smile again. "Good! Well, my name is Jarrod Davis, and you are…?"

"Umm… Brenda… My name is Brenda Barrett," she finally got out, extending her hand out to him. "And what would you like me to photograph for you?"

He took her extended hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently, "Well, Ms. Barrett, I am just recently arrived in this beautiful area, and I neglected to pack my camera. So I would like for you to show me the principality through the lens of your camera - both the people and the countryside… If you're amenable, that is," he added, once again giving her that blinding smile of his.

Brenda felt a warmth flow through her that she had never felt before in her young life, and she suddenly wondered if this was how it felt to fall in love at first sight. More likely lust, she told herself, as she gazed at this impossibly perfect man in front of her, who wanted her to spend the day with him. "You've hired yourself a photographer and a tour guide for the day, Mr. Davis," Brenda smiled back at him, excited at the prospect of spending time with this man.

Jarrod shook his head. "Ah, ah, ah… I guess I'll need to set some ground rules here, if we're to have a good relationship," he began, his smiling eyes betraying the seriousness of his tone.

Brenda suddenly sobered, wondering what his rules would be. "Yes, of course," she stuttered.

"Well, then," he continued, his tone still deadly serious, "the first rule of this relationship is that you must never call me Mr. Davis. I may be several years older than you are, but calling me Mr. Davis makes me feel like I'm old and gray and ready for retirement, so I'd prefer it if you'd call me JD instead, and I'll call you BB. How's that?" He waited for her response, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Okay, I can handle that - JD," she smiled shyly at him. "And what are the rest of the rules?" she asked, as he continued to gaze intently into her eyes, mesmerizing her.

"The rest? Hmm… Well, there really is only one other rule, but it is the most important rule, and it must never be broken," he said enigmatically, his eyes sparkling with mischief and his face suppressing the smile that threatened to break at the soberness that once again clouded Brenda's face.

"Yes?" Brenda waited for this all-important rule of conduct for them, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be that he was married or engaged and that she was not even to entertain lustful thoughts about him, because if that were the case, she might as well chuck this job now. No matter how much she needed the money, she'd never be able to work with this man - even for just one day - without wanting him with every fiber of her being.

"The most important rule…" he began, his face crinkling into an open smile, "is that our time together must always be fun!" With that he grabbed the sheer gauze sarong that Brenda had tied loosely around her hips and took off running backwards down the beach. "Come and get me, BB! Our day of fun and beautiful sights has just begun!"

She was momentarily shocked by his actions, but then she grabbed her bag and her camera and took off after him, giggling. She knew this would be a day she would not soon forget, but she had no idea then how indelibly this day and the days that would follow would burn themselves into her soul.

She caught up with JD just down the beach and then they returned to their respective rooms to change into more suitable attire for their day of fun. He had a rented a car, and they spent the rest of that day traveling all over the small country. He had no itinerary planned, preferring instead to allow Brenda to choose where they went and what they saw. Brenda shot ten rolls of film that day for him, two of those of the palace itself.

Brenda had mentioned to JD that she had always loved palaces and castles when she was a child, and had always dreamed of living in one with her prince. As she grew older, she had changed her dream to merely wanting to visit and photograph every castle or palace in Europe, so he had encouraged her to shoot the Palace of Monaco from every conceivable angle and with every lens that she had brought with her. She had thought him crazy, but he told her that it was his money and that was what he wanted, so she had laughingly obliged. In fact, she had laughed at most of his requests for shots because so many of them were insane, but she had willingly gone along with all of his requests that day, including his offer for dinner at her favorite seaside bistro that evening.

It was nearly 11 p.m. by the time that they finished the last of their Chardonnay at the little bistro and he walked her back to her flat. "This has been an incredible day," she said softly, as she unlocked the door, wishing that this day of exploration and fun would never end. "I feel like this day has been a gift, and that I'm the one who should pay you." He laughed softly but said nothing, so she continued, "I'll get the film developed tomorrow, and then you can just pay for those pictures you like and not for everything, just in case they aren't as spectacular as you had hoped for."

He smiled that bewitching smile once again. "How can they not be spectacular? You took them, and you are nothing short of spectacular." Brenda blushed at his compliment and then shivered involuntarily at the sensual look that crossed his face as he gazed at her. "Are you cold?" he asked, rubbing his hands slowly up and down her arms, knowing full well that he, and not the evening air, was the cause of her trembling.

The feel of his hands gliding over her arms made her body nearly go limp from the excitement it was generating within her. She closed her eyes briefly and swayed slightly, her breathing quickening as his hands moved from her arms to behind her back to draw her closer to him. She opened her eyes as he settled his body firmly against hers and then gently pressed his lips over hers, his tongue eagerly begging entrance to her mouth. She opened willingly for him, and the kiss quickly intensified. He picked her up and moved them both inside, kicking the door shut behind them.

He easily found the bedroom in the tiny apartment and laid her down on the bed. Positioning himself over her, he paused suddenly. "Tell me now if you want me to stop," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion. Brenda's answer was to pull him down to her, and he moaned softly as he felt the soft curves of her young body molding so perfectly against the firmness of his.

Those were the last words either of them uttered that night. The rest of the night their bodies spoke their feelings and passions far more eloquently than either could have expressed in words. Brenda was hardly a novice sexually, having lost her virginity at the tender age of fifteen, but being with JD that night made her realize that, although she may have had sex many times before, she had never been made love to before that night or before that man.

He was a tender lover, exploring her body leisurely and deliberately, making every part of her body come alive. She had never before known pleasure like he showed her that night and in the days and nights that followed. And he was patient with her, teaching her the fine art of giving and receiving sensual pleasures. He was very proud of his body, and he taught her not to be ashamed of hers or the pleasures it could give her when paired with the right man. And after that night she knew he was the right man for her.

They made love for hours that night, finally falling asleep exhausted in each other's arms just before dawn's first light. But when Brenda awoke much later that morning, she was alone. She searched the flat for a note from him - something that would indicate that last night had meant as much to him as it had to her, but there was nothing. There was little trace that he'd ever been there in the first place or that he would ever return, and her broken heart seemed to be the only evidence that the night had been more than just a dream.

But then she saw the money… She looked at the wad of bills that he had left for her on the bedside table by the rolls of film that she had shot yesterday for him, and she began to cry as she thought about how she had allowed herself to be used by him. He had bought her services. He had hired her under the guise of being a photographer, but all he really had wanted was to get her into bed - and she had willingly accommodated him. She was nothing more than a common whore!

She ran to the bathroom and showered with a vengeance, nearly scrubbing herself raw in her effort to rid herself of his scent, his touch, his mark, but he had already emblazoned himself in her soul, and no amount of soap and water could ever erase him from there. He had stolen her self-respect, but he had also stolen her heart, and she wondered how she could go on?

She stood in the shower for nearly an hour, crying uncontrollably as the water that washed over her gradually changed from hot to tepid. Reluctantly, she turned off the water and wrapped a towel around herself, making her way back to her bedroom, intent on tearing the sheets off the bed and getting rid of them, but he was there, waiting for her.

She pulled the towel tighter around herself and fought back another round of tears. "What's the matter, did you think you didn't get your money's worth yet?" She picked up the money he'd left and threw it at him. "Here's your money!" she spat at him. "Take it and get out of here! I'm not for sale!" she screamed, her body shaking with shame and anger.

"Please," he said quietly, moving toward her.

"Stay away from me!" she growled through gritted teeth. "I may be new at this kind of thing, but I do know that when the 'session' is over, the 'client' doesn't get to come back for seconds!" He continued to slowly move toward her, and she backed away, trying to keep him from touching her because she knew that if he touched her, she'd lose herself to him again. She backed against the wall of the tiny bedroom, and he stopped just inches from her, close enough that she could feel his body heat.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his deep blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you like this."

"And what had you meant to happen?" she asked angrily. "Because I know now that what you wanted from me all along was to get me into bed, and that your hiring me as your tour guide and your photographer was just your version of extended foreplay. Isn't that right?! And the professional services that you paid for with that -- " She pointed to the francs that were scattered all over the floor. "- were the ones I provided you at the end of the evening with my body and not the ones I provided during the day with my camera!" She slumped to the floor, her body wracked with fresh sobs as the realization of what she had done hit her once again. Her father had been right all along - she was a slut!

JD knelt down beside her and reached out to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but she swatted his hand away and curled herself protectively into a ball. She reminded him of a frightened little girl, and his heart broke, knowing that he and he alone had done this to her. He needed to explain everything to her - he had to make her understand why he had done this and why he had left as he had - and, most importantly, why he'd returned now.

"You're half-right," he began, his normally deep and commanding voice now more of a quiet plea, "I originally planned yesterday as an elaborate way to get you into my bed…" He paused as he focused on Brenda's heart-broken face. She had stopped sobbing, but he knew what he had just said stabbed deep into her heart.

"I've been watching you for days, almost since the first moment I set foot here," he continued, trying to lay everything out in chronological order, as much to make sense of it for himself as for her. "You first caught my eye on the beach as you moved among the tourists with your camera. You were so beautiful and so innocent looking, and I knew from the first moment that I saw you that I wanted you. I watched as men, young and old, approached you, and I saw each of them turned away in disappointment, so I knew you weren't easy.

"I followed you for a few days and made some discreet inquiries about you. I found out your name and age, and that you were an American who had been living in London before coming here and renting this place a few weeks ago. I found out you like croissants and black coffee for breakfast, and you rarely eat lunch, and that dinner for you is usually soup or a small salad at that little place we went to last night. I also learned that money is tight for you and that you love photography and have been supplementing your income while you've been here by taking pictures for tourists, but that you really want to be a serious artist with your camera."

He paused again as Brenda gasped at his revelation that he had, in effect, been stalking her for days, but she said nothing, merely pulling her knees closer to her chest and wrapping her arms more tightly around them.

"The more I saw you and the more I learned about you, the more I wanted you," he continued, still staring intently at Brenda. "You were a challenge for me, and I have never backed away from a challenge in my life. I'm here in Monte Carlo for the gaming tables, because, even though my day-to-day existence is steeped in potentially dangerous challenges, they still thrill me in my leisure time as well. But you had suddenly become a far more intriguing challenge than the games of chance in the casino, so I devised my own plan to fix the odds in my favor, so to speak, on getting you to succumb to me. I decided to hire you for a day to take pictures for me, while I charmed you enough to get you into my bed that night. I figured that once we had had our moment of passion, you would be out of my system, and I could get on with my vacation and on to other challenges… But I was wrong…"

He shifted slightly, but remained on his haunches, just inches from her. "Last night… last night was something like I've never experienced before in my life - and I don't just mean physically. I've been with a lot of women in my thirty years, and I've had great physical experiences with the majority of them, but none of them compares in the least to what you and I had last night. You and I connected completely - not just our bodies, but our souls as well - and I have never felt that before. And, as thrilling and fulfilling as it was, it frightened me as well, which is why I ran this morning.

"You touched something deep inside me that I've kept closely guarded all of my adult life, and the sudden vulnerability that I felt with you overwhelmed me. I left the money to pay for the pictures you took because I had no intention of returning to look at them. In fact, I returned to my hotel and checked out, intent on leaving Monaco altogether. I was on my way to the airport when I realized that I couldn't run away from you and these feelings I have for you. You scare the hell out of me, Brenda Barrett, but the prospect of never holding you in my arms again and never having my heart connected again with yours is even more frightening."

He paused again as he saw fresh tears well up in Brenda's eyes, but these were not tears of anger and shame; these were tears of joy and relief. Tentatively, he reached out once again to brush them away, but this time she didn't shrink from his touch. "I love you, BB. And, God help me, I feel like I'll die without you," he whispered hoarsely, as tears began to stream down his cheeks as well.

"I love you," she choked out and then launched herself into his waiting arms.

"I want to spend whatever time we have, together," he said enigmatically as he buried his face in her hair. At the time she didn't understand what he meant by that. It was only years later and only upon reflection that she realized that he had been warning her that their time together would be intense but brief, but he wanted to spend every second of it with her, loving her with everything he had.

He picked her up and carried her to the bed, and they slowly and tenderly melded their bodies together once again, as they made sweet love for the rest of the morning. Brenda's heart soared as she realized that he loved her as much as she loved him and that her heart would be safe with him. She had never known such happiness before, and that happiness and her love for him grew with each passing day, until the day he disappeared, six weeks later - leaving her heart-broken, alone, and pregnant…

Brenda shook her head at the memories and swiped her hand across the corners of her eyes to clear the tears that had sprung up. She thought she had cried her last tears over him years ago, when she had shed Brenda Barrett's skin and had become Brenda Wilding, but here she was, reliving it all again as vividly as if it had been just yesterday.

"Great! I am in no mood for company now, of all times!" she mumbled as she threw the door open, without checking to see who it was first. To her complete shock, she found Jack Thomas standing there, dressed casually in a pair of well-worn Levis, a faded blue chambray shirt, and hiking boots, smiling that damnable smile of his and holding a bag from Scribman's Deli, just down the street.

"Hi!" he grinned, handing her the bag as he breezed past her and into her loft. "I was hoping I could get you to change your mind about me over that business lunch you promised me..."