He brought her free hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. The old-fashioned gesture nearly drove her to her knees. She had to consciously remind her body to keep breathing.

“We are,” he said as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, “a fabulous-looking couple. Everyone will be jealous. It’s our duty to walk through the crowd, spreading our attractiveness among them. They will expect it. They might even throw money.” He gave her a wink.

His outrageousness made her laugh and his easy smile calmed some of her nervousness. “How noble of you,” she told him. “I’m terribly impressed by your concern for the little people.”

He leaned toward her. “Seriously, I expect you to protect me. I hate parties like this. Everyone wants to impress me with their exotic travels. Some even bring pictures. I never know what to say. I don’t do the celebrity thing very well.”

His confession both surprised and pleased her. “I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.”

They began to circulate through the room. Chloe had been prepared to introduce Arizona to the local dignitaries, but he already seemed to know them. He greeted the mayor and most of the city council by name.

“How do you do that?” she asked when they’d excused themselves to go sample the food. “How do you know who everyone is?”

Arizona collected an empty plate for each of them and led her to the buffet line. “I met the mayor and her husband at the airport. There was a city council meeting yesterday and I attended.”

Chloe glanced at the food spread out before them. There was nothing more exotic than some enchiladas, but Cassie had probably been right to let Joel take her out to dinner. He would have fussed over the fact that there wasn’t a steak in sight.

“I have a terrible time remembering people’s names,” she said as she took some salad. “I keep a detailed card file so I don’t mess up at press conferences.”

“I’m lucky,” he admitted. “It’s easy for me to remember names and faces. I only have to meet someone once and I know them. It works. People like to be remembered.”

Especially by someone like him, she thought. It wouldn’t matter if he was at a dinner at the White House, or in some small village. He would always be the center of attention. Even now, she knew people were watching him, trying to figure out an excuse to talk to him.

The adoration should have made him unbearable, but Arizona handled it with grace and humor. She suspected that was true for most of his life. Was there anything he didn’t do well?

“How’s the story coming?” he asked as they settled into two chairs to eat. “Are you going to dig up the skeletons in my closet?”

“Do you have any?”

“No, but wouldn’t it be fun if I did? Maybe I’m Elvis.” He curled his upper lip and tried to look sexy.

She laughed.

He pretended to be wounded. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. If there weren’t so many people around, I would sing for you.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Dr. Smith?” A beautifully dressed middle-aged woman stopped in front of him. Chloe recognized her as the chairperson of the cultural council. It had joined forces with the university to sponsor Arizona’s visit and lecture series. “It’s nearly eight o’clock. The university president is about to introduce you and we’d like you to say a few words.”

“No problem.” He stood up and set his plate on a tray, then winked at Chloe. “You’ll be able to tell which one is me up there,” he said, pointing to the small stage at the far end of the room. “I’ll be the one stuttering.”

She smiled. “I’ll wave.”

“Great.” He winked. “Don’t go giving all your dances away. I want one.”

“No problem,” she said lightly, while every cell in her body screamed that he could not only have all her dances, he could have her, too. Anytime, anywhere.

So much for acting professional.

As Arizona was led to the podium, the crowd moved in that direction as well. Chloe found herself swept along. She caught bits of conversation around her. Everyone was talking about him. The men wanted to be him and the women wanted to make love with him. She couldn’t blame either group. He was just that kind of man—a force of nature.

She supposed her physical reaction was something to be expected. It wasn’t a crush, exactly, but really close. Still, she could control it. At least enough to get her job done. Tonight they would dance together, and she would probably lose her head a little, but in the morning everything would be back to normal. At least that was her fantasy.

The university president greeted the crowd. Chloe tried to listen, but her gaze kept slipping to Arizona. He was tall and powerful as he stood in front of everyone. There was an ease about him. He was the kind of man you could talk to and instinctively trust.

It took her a few minutes to realize that she was the center of some attention and speculation. She heard her name mentioned and when she turned in that direction, the woman who had been speaking blushed and looked away.

Chloe sucked in a breath. People had noticed Arizona with her. Of course. How could they not? He’d been at her side since she’d arrived. They were talking about them. She could feel it.

Arizona started to speak. He thanked the crowd for attending and soon had them laughing at one of his stories. Chloe watched him with a combination of trepidation and pride. He was going to come back to her when he was done up there. He’d as much as told her and she believed him. He might have a woman in every city around the world, but for tonight, he would be with her.

He did return, and as he did, the band started playing. He swept her into his arms without asking. She didn’t mind. Where else was there to be?

They moved together easily, like an old married couple dancing to a familiar song. There were others on the floor, but she felt as if they were alone. Still, when they circled around, she caught interested stares and heard murmurs of speculation. One woman glared at her in obvious outrage. She wasn’t sure if she should be irritated by the other woman’s anger or flattered.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

She wore pumps with two-inch heels. Even so she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. “That I’ve never been out with the most popular boy in school before. Some of the cheerleaders are a little cranky.”

“I don’t believe you didn’t date the football captain.”

She liked the feel of him next to her. His body was strong and warm. It was also exactly as she remembered it from her dream, but she didn’t want to think about that.

“You should,” she told him. “I wasn’t very popular in high school. I was too tall and too skinny. These things—” she glanced down at her modest br**sts “—didn’t bother making an appearance until nearly eleventh grade. I didn’t think I was ever going to get breasts. Big eyes, big lips, too much hair. I’ve sort of grown into my looks. But it’s a recent thing.”

“You’ve done a fine job.”

“Well, thank you, sir. What about you? How does it feel to be the archaeological equivalent of a rock star?”

She thought he might pretend to misunderstand the question, or give her a teasing response. Instead, he looked slightly uncomfortable and asked, “Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah, I do.” Even though she found it hard to concentrate, what with them being so close and all. If she closed her eyes, she found herself mentally drifting back to that night in the cave when they’d made love. If she kept her eyes open, she got lost in his dark gaze and never wanted to surface again. It was a tough choice.

He solved her dilemma by wrapping his arm more tightly around her waist and drawing her closer. His cheek rested against her temple.

“Women have always been available,” he said. “I don’t claim to understand what combination of genes and luck make that true. It started when I was about thirteen and it hasn’t let up yet. When I was younger, in my teens and early twenties, I took advantage of that fact.”

He pulled back enough for her to see his face. His expression was earnest. “I was smart enough to be careful, so no one got pregnant and I hope no one got hurt. But it wasn’t my finest hour. Fortunately, it got old very quickly. I learned it was more fun when I got to know the lady in question and took the time to develop a relationship to her.”

He pulled her against him again. She liked being close. For reasons she couldn’t explain, being with him made her feel safe.

“A wise old woman, and I do mean that, helped me see the light. She was a shaman and had to be close to a hundred years old. Anyway, this wise old woman once told me that every time people make love, they give away a piece of their soul. If one makes love with the same person again and again, eventually they exchange souls and that is what was intended for married couples. But if one makes love with many people, one will find oneself with nothing left to give to the one who matters. Worse, we end up with no soul of our own.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but the theory has merit,” she said.

“I agree. Now. At the time I was all of eighteen, and if I remember correctly, all I could think about was getting her great-granddaughter into bed, so I wasn’t the most appreciative audience.”

The music stopped. They broke apart and applauded. “Let’s go get some fresh air,” Arizona said.

She allowed him to lead her to the open patio at the far end of the room.

The night air was clear and balmy. She reminded herself she was working and should be trying to get a story from him. But she couldn’t think about anything but the man standing next to her. There was something about him—something that called to her. If she was the kind of woman who believed in destiny, she would be willing to admit he was the one for her. But she wasn’t and he wasn’t. Still, he was a very good time.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, leaning against the railing and drawing her against him.

She supposed she could have resisted, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to be next to him, to feel his arms around her again. It was almost like dancing, but they were alone in the shadows and the only music came from inside her head.

His face was so familiar, she thought. It was as if she’d known him forever. Had they really made love or had it just been a dream? Did he own a piece of her soul?

“What are you thinking?” he asked. “Sometimes you look at me and you get the strangest expression on your face. I always wonder if I have spinach in my teeth.”

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. There was no way she could tell him she’d been thinking about that dream. He would want to know the details. He was already intrigued by the story of the Bradley family nightgown and the legend. She didn’t dare think what he would make of her story.

“It has to be something,” he insisted. His expression turned teasing. “I have ways of making you talk.”

“Some spell or curse?”

“Nothing that drastic.”

He tilted his head toward her. Instinctively she raised hers. This was not professional, she reminded herself, then she decided she didn’t care. They’d been heading toward this moment since they met. She wanted to kiss him. She needed to kiss him. She had to know if it was the same as she remembered.

His mouth brushed against hers. They weren’t standing all that close. His hands rested on her waist, hers were on his forearms. For a second—as her body registered the sensations of his heat, the firm softness of his mouth—she couldn’t do anything more than absorb what was happening.

Then she felt it. The absolute electrical jolt that shot through her. It was hotter and brighter than lightning. It was recognition and need and passion and color, as if every part of her being responded to this man. Even more terrifying, it was familiar.

She knew what he was going to do even before he parted his lips. She knew the taste and feel of him. She knew how his hands would slide up her back, how she would step into his embrace, how their bodies would fit together. The knowledge only increased her desire. She wanted him because being with him was so incredibly perfect, she thought as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

Her br**sts swelled, that secret place between her legs dampened. She felt his hardness press against her hip bone. They breathed in sync. She tilted her head one way, he moved the opposite, so they could deepen the contact. Reunited lovers kissing for the first time.

It was better than she remembered, she thought, then wondered how she could remember kissing a man she’d never kissed before. The dream didn’t count. It wasn’t real. Then she stopped thinking because her brain shut down. She could only feel him next to her, holding her, touching her. Their bodies fit perfectly together. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her fingers in his cool, soft hair. His shoulders were broad, as was his chest. Every part of him had been put together with her pleasure and enjoyment in mind…or so it seemed.

Tongues circled and danced and mated. She wanted more from him. She wanted to feel him inside of her; she wanted him to claim her and mark her in the most primitive, primal way of all.

At last, he drew back slightly, breaking the kiss. His breathing was as labored as hers. He rested his forehead against hers and exhaled.

“Pretty amazing,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Even better than I thought, and I thought it would be great.”

“Me, too.”

He tucked a loose curl behind her ear, then brushed his thumb against her cheek. His eyes were bright with passion. She could feel the need radiating from him. Faint tremors rippled through his hands.