How could she possibly keep her panties on around him?

He pulled his senselessly expensive car into one of the slots in a six-car garage of one of the most stunning houses she'd ever set eyes on, and she whispered to herself, "You've got to be kidding me."

Julie had grown up with money. Lots of money. Yet she'd never seen anything quite as impressive as Ty's estate, smack-dab on the water in the Seacliff district of San Francisco. Over the past few decades, houses here were selling for $15 to $20 million, only to be torn down for sprawling McMansions to be built in their place. The glass-and-steel structures often looked out of place in the once architecturally rich neighborhood.

Surprisingly, Ty's house looked to be original— albeit updated—1920's architecture. Julie would much rather have had their first planning meeting at her office, with her staff nearby to protect her from his charm. A crowded restaurant would have been even better. Anything other than Ty's personal kingdom. But he'd insisted.

"Now that I'm your top client, don't you need to get to know me?" he'd said. She'd been so upset with his easy maneuvering of her and the situation that her reply had been cutting. "I suppose I do need to see everything that's wrong before I can begin to start making changes. What better place than your house? I'm sure it's a treasure trove of surprises." Again, pain flashed in his eyes too quickly for him to shutter it. How was he managing to make her feel like the bad guy? He'd been the one who'd hurt her. Not the other way around. She sat behind the wheel of her car a moment too long and he opened the door for her and held his hand out. She didn't want his help, even if it was a surprisingly gentlemanly thing to be doing.

"Maybe I won't have to teach you absolutely everything about proper behavior," she said as she placed her hand in his in place of a thank-you.

As she stood in his driveway, she felt like she'd lost her entire foundation. She'd never wanted to be this close to Ty again or have him look at her like that—like he wanted her to kiss him, just like he had when they were eighteen and she'd been so delighted by his attention.

And now here they were and it was as if the past ten years had never happened. Because she was still consumed with the same pathetic lust and desperation.

She quickly pulled her hand back and he put his up in a gesture of surrender.

" I know this is a pretty rough surprise, having to work with me. If you'd rather not take me on, Julie, just say the word. I'm sure the team can find someone else to clean up my act." She stared at him, hearing the challenge beneath his words.

"Oh no, I'm definitely up to the test," she said, suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be the one in control here, not him. Still, as she walked up his beautifully paved driveway, knowing his eyes were trained on the sway of her hips, the curve of her calves in her heels, she gave quiet thanks for the angel that helped her choose one of her sexiest business outfits to wear this morning. Just think if she'd been PMSing and had put on that frumpy brown-pant suit that she'd been meaning to give away for the past few months. God, that would have been embarrassing. His front door was open and she wondered if he had trained his servants to open the door, put the champagne on ice, and turn down his silk sheets the moment they saw him coming home with a woman.

Julie knew she didn't measure up to the hot babes he normally dated, but some twisted part of her actually hoped that his staff would think that she could get Ty, rather than just be a paid business associate.

Nonetheless, she couldn't fail to be impressed by his house and property. The foyer alone had one of the most beautiful views in all of San Francisco. The Golden Gate Bridge glittered red in the sunlight to her right, the surf and the Farallon Islands directly in front of the house. He'd certainly come a long way. And even though their past was messy she admired all he'd achieved. From life in a trailer park to all this. While she worked for what she had, she'd never had to struggle for money or respect. Not like he had.

A large yacht motored past his house just as she felt him move behind her. Suddenly she was eighteen again, standing at the rail of the marina in Sau-salito, knowing the boy she adored was close enough to touch.

"It's beautiful," she said.

"More beautiful than I ever imagined," was his slightly gruff reply near her left ear. She didn't think he was talking about the view from his house. Julie could feel his breath on her skin, his heat at her back. She wanted nothing more than to turn to him, to give herself up to the incredible pleasure of his touch.

Just when she didn't think she could hold out another second from doing the second stupidest thing in her entire life, shouts rang out from the large room off of the foyer. Taking it as her cue to get away from Ty, she dashed into the impressive kitchen. Just beyond the enormous granite-topped island, she saw three large men in various states of disrepair dancing on colorful plastic floor mats in the family room.

"Dude," one of them said without looking over his shoulder at Julie and Ty, "I just totally trumped Alex. I toldyou guys I was a Dance Dance Revolution king!"

Ty grinned and leaned against a sink. "Now that's something to be proud of, my friend." Ignoring the silly part of her that wanted to kick off her shoes and dance to the music pumping out of Ty's enormous flatscreen TV, she coolly said, "I'd love to meet your friends."

"Guys, this is Julie."

All three men—if you could call shirtless guys who hadn't shaved in well over twenty-four hours playing a kid's video game men—spun around to meet Ty's groupie of the hour. The Dance King's eyes lit up and he whistled as he looked her up and down and then back up to her br**sts. "Well, hello there, pretty lady," he finally said as he managed to tear his gaze away from her chest and make eye contact.

She gave him her primmest smile in return. "It's so nice to meet you." Ty's incredible estate was nothing more than a glorified frat house. They wouldn't get any work done in this kind of environment. Besides, didn't he care that his friends were eating his food, messing up his house, and playing with his toys, but didn't respect him enough to keep the front door shut or throw away their pizza boxes when they were through?

Without bothering to confer with Ty—after all, he was her client and her word was law from here on out—she walked over to the couch and began picking up shirts and socks and shoes between her thumb and forefinger.

"And who does this belong to?" and "Is this yours?" mingled with the electronic beats playing on the enormous TV.

As the three very confused men dutifully dressed themselves, she found the remote control under a discarded sweatshirt and hit the Power button.