As he gazed at the woman wearing the short blue pinstripe skirt ahead of him, Chase McDaniel's throat constricted and his silk tie suddenly felt tight. She leaned over farther, continuing to study the back end of her car.

He had a perfect view of well-shaped legs that led upward toward…

The bead of sweat that formed on Chase's forehead had nothing to do with the late May heat wave. It might be ninety-two degrees, but the vision in front of him was what was getting him all hot and bothered in the company parking lot this Friday morning.

She straightened, and he noticed how her crisp white shirt clung to her breasts, outlining the white cami she wore beneath. She'd shed the suit coat, and her sunglasses were perched atop her head to keep her short black hair back.

She was hot. Both literally and physically. He'd never seen a woman quite like her, Chase decided. She had a commanding yet sexy presence. His libido heightened, and he worked to control his physical reaction.

Her car was in a visitor space, and as he approached he could see what vexed her—a flat tire.

It was 10:00 a.m., and the official start of the Memorial Day weekend was hours away. Here in Chenille, Iowa, the day promised to be a scorcher. But the unseasonably warm weather was ideal for heating lake water and making the weekend perfect for outdoor activities.

Chase's grandfather was already at the family summer home in Minnesota, and that's where Chase was heading next, once he stopped and did his good deed for the day. "Hi," he said, pausing a few feet from her.

She turned, and he inhaled. She had the greenest eyes he'd ever seen.

"Hi," she replied. Her frustration with the situation