The scent of the flowers climbing the trellis behind her back wafted in the warm air, and occasionally a light breeze cooled and caressed Kat's hot skin. There was nothing like a summer night in St. Louis. Oh sure, there were times the humidity could make her feel like she was breathing soup, but tonight was actually quite pleasant. It was mid-September and an oppressive heat wave had sent temperatures skyrocketing above one hundred degrees for the last two weeks. When she woke up this morning, the air coming through her open bedroom window felt clean and fresh, not stale and stagnant as it had been. The change was being celebrated all over the city.

She listened to the music blaring from the speakers on the dance floor, a slow hypnotic rhythm calling to the soul. Her eyes were having trouble tracking people in the colored, strobe lights winking on and off, the effect causing people to catch only glimpses of their dance partners and making the atmosphere seductive and anonymous. The dancers tangling on the patio made Kat wonder how it would feel to move so freely, so seductively. Fantasies of a man holding her close and moving to the hypnotic music flitted through her mind. Too bad said man did not exist.

Looking to her right, she spied her best friend Amy with her fiancé and smiled. Seeing their happiness warmed a place in her heart, but it could not fulfill the longing to feel that closeness with another person. Kat didn't see that happening for her very soon, if at all. Allowing someone that close left a person defenseless. Kat had known vulnerability and complacency from a very young age and refused to allow those weaknesses to control her again. She deemed the occasional twinge of loneliness an acceptable aftereffect for securing herself from susceptibility.

Kat saw a couple on the dance floor so wrapped up in each other that she felt as if they had created their own little world. They were an attractive couple. The solidly-built man stood tall behind his dance partner, whose height complemented his. She leaned into the man's chest, with her head resting on his shoulder as he circled her stomach with his arms and leaned down to kiss the nape of her neck and shoulder where perspiration glistened. Although they were barely moving, the dance--a gentle sway back and forth and a grind of the hips--made it easy to envision them standing just like that and slowly making love.

Kat became lost in the fantasy for several minutes until a man's deep, husky voice whispered into her ear "Enjoying the show?"

She turned to examine the owner of the sexy voice. In the darkness all that was visible was a strong face and sensual lips. She coyly smiled at him. "I always enjoy a good performance." A playful smile shaped his lips. Kat couldn't help but stare.

I wonder what they feel like. Are they soft, and does the touch linger or do they command surrender? Do they bring pleasure or spew venomous pain?

Returning her attention to the conversation, she heard him say, "Ahh, so you're a voyeur?"

Kat considered her response before answering. She didn't want to encourage some deranged stalker by answering with a suggestive remark.

"Isn't everyone to a certain extent? How else do you explain the obsession with physical appearance or rubbernecking motorists trying to catch a glimpse of fatalities on the freeway?"

"I never thought about voyeurism in those contexts, but it certainly makes sense. It is the human response to innate curiosity. I'm Jace Hudson." He offered his hand to shake, and when she hesitantly answered, his hand enclosed hers in a warm, strong grip.

"Kat Martin." She felt rough calluses as their hands separated, giving clue to his rugged nature. Whatever this man did, it was not behind a pampered desk. That realization only enhanced Kat's interest.