The contents of the manila folder provided one contact, Peking's only attorney, a woman by the name of Caroline Winslow, and Ty was standing out in front of her office bright and early the next morning. The only problem was that the office was locked securely with a closed sign on the door. He checked his watch. Just after nine. What time did a lawyer's offices open anyway? He settled back against the brick wall beside the louvered door and decided to wait.

As the town woke up, he became the center of attention. Passers-by craned their necks to get a better look at him, and women peeked at him out of the corner of their eyes as they scurried past. Ty smiled and winked at one blonde, and she blushed to the roots of her hair and picked up her pace. His grin broadened.

He'd never been a stupid man. The blonde's eyes had scurried past his belt buckle, concentrating on the bulge between his thighs instead of his face, which was precisely why he'd winked at her. Nothing like being caught in the act, and if he had more time to loaf in Peking, Georgia, he just might show the woman exactly what was tucked beneath the tailored slacks he wore.

Instead, he had to remain focused, keep his attention on his job, and hope like hell this attorney showed up before so many pairs of female eyes peeking at his covered package gave him a hard-on.

Carrie left her house at a little after ten, her steps determined. Having been waylaid by her mother yesterday en route to the spa, she'd never made it to her relaxing session of mud and steam. Today, however, was a new day, and she was going to have that mud bath even if she had to drag her mother along with her and listen to her babble while the mud sank into her pores.

Dressed casually in white pedal pushers and a striped black and white sleeveless sweater, Carrie prayed she didn't run into any member of her family. A long explanation would ensue as to why she wasn't opening the office for the second day in a row. Well, she was determined to forget about them, even if for just one day. She hadn't taken a vacation in four years, and she deserved one. In fact, she was long overdue for one.

Sliding behind the wheel of her Mitsubishi 3000GT, she gunned the engine, dropped the gear into reverse, and backed out of the driveway of her one-story ranch house, eager to be on her way. She could almost feel the tension ebbing away from her muscles. For once, the world be damned.

An hour later, Ty was tired of waiting, not to mention irritable and hungry. The continental breakfast the hotel had offered hadn't been what he was accustomed to eating to support his muscular frame. Spotting the overhead sign that directed him toward a small diner, he hastened his steps toward the restaurant.

The bell jangled, and all conversation ceased. Diners swiveled on stools and in their chairs to get a better look at this visitor to their town. Men and women alike craned their necks to see his face and then female eyes covertly slid over him from head to toe.

Ty watched the patrons trade glances, and he didn't need an interpreter to read between the lines. The women would be only too glad to warm his bed, but the men clearly didn't want him there. It didn't matter that they didn't know him. They saw him or the color of his skin, rather.

The son of a Jamaican father and Caucasian mother, Ty had grown comfortable in his skin, but other people, especially those in small towns, well, they seemed to have a problem with it. Of course, he'd never particularly given a shit what other people thought, which was exactly why he didn't break stride as he walked forward.

The woman behind the counter removed her apron and approached him with quick, bird-like steps. "Hello. I'm Sharon. Come on in and have a seat. Forgive us all for staring. It's just that we don't get many visitors around here nowadays."

Yeah, that was the reason. Ty moved toward the counter and seated himself upon a red upholstered stool. To his left sat a large man with horn-rimmed glasses and thinning brown hair; to his right, a grandmotherly woman with silver hair scraped back into an unflattering bun and bright blue eyes that didn't bother to hide her interest. He nodded at both and faced forward. "Coffee, please."

Sharon beamed at him. "Certainly. Would you care for some breakfast?" She scrubbed a spot on the counter directly in front of him with a worn dish rag.

"Sounds good, and I'd also like some information, if you can give it to me."

Every ear in the diner strained for the question.

"I'll help if I can." The woman paused in the process of filling a large, white mug with freshly brewed coffee. "Shoot."

"I'm trying to find Caroline Winslow."

"Well, obviously, you don't know her if you're calling her Caroline. She goes by Carrie. She's our town's lawyer." Sharon slid the cup of liquid caffeine toward him, her smile broadening. "I wish I could help you, but I noticed she didn't open up shop this morning. She must be taking the day off."

"That's unusual for Carrie," offered a voice from the back.

"Maybe she was just tuckered and needed a rest," came a female voice from the opposite end, a bit defensively, Ty noted.

He swung his gaze toward the sound of that voice. "Ma'am, would you know where to find her? I have something very important to discuss with her."

The woman moved forward, slender, perky, with a pretty face and an easy smile. "Well, the way I heard it, she was going to try out the new spa that just opened up a couple of weeks ago."

A tall, lean man wearing coveralls and a grimy John Deere cap groaned. "Aw, Beth, now why'd you go and give him information like that? You don't even know him."

"Well, he looks respectable enough," Beth responded, keeping her eyes glued to Ty's face.

Ty nodded his appreciation. "Thank you." He tipped his head and tossed back the hot coffee without batting an eye. He stood up, tossed a five dollar bill onto the counter, and flashed Sharon a smile that was both powerful and enticing. "I appreciate your help, Ma'am."

She flushed and waved a hand in front of her face. "Aren't you going to have that breakfast?"

"I'll be back. I have to take care of business first." He gave her a wink that only heightened the color in her cheeks. "Thanks again."

Sharon's hand fluttered at the neck of the white blouse trimmed with eyelet lace. "Oh, please. I didn't do much of anything. You just come back when you can stay longer." She was still watching the glass door long after he'd walked out of sight. "My, my, my. Wasn't he a fine-looking specimen?"

A snort of disapproval greeted this question. "Doesn't look like he'd fit in here."

"For a man like that, we'd make him fit." Sharon returned to her duties, whistling.

"Still don't think you should have told him where Carrie is. He could be up to no good," the man in the cap continued to admonish Beth.

Beth smiled knowingly. "Oh, I just bet he is, and Carrie needs a little no good in her life if you ask me."