The Rebel's Return. BEVERLY BARTON

very idea that Mission Creek’s rebel without a cause plagued her thoughts day and night. For goodness sakes, she didn’t even like him. But she did feel something for him. Those strange, unnerving feelings scared the heck out of her. During the past six months, whenever she saw him, her heart beat a little faster and a her stomach quivered. And heaven help her, she had daydreamed about him kissing her. Her reaction to Dylan was different from anything she’d ever felt. Even when Jimmy Don Newman French-kissed her, she didn’t get weak in the knees.

      Maddie closed her eyes as memories of that Saturday at the country club six weeks ago flashed through her mind like a movie.

      Jimmy Don had picked her up in his red Corvette at ten-thirty for their tennis date. They had played doubles with friends, then eaten lunch at the country club’s Yellow Rose Café before Jimmy Don and several of his buddies left the girls alone to go play billiards. Bored with the idle chitchat and endless discussion of next year’s Debutante Ball, Maddie wandered around on her own and finally went outside. Looking back at what happened that day, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure she hadn’t deliberately gone looking for Dylan. But if she had, it had been an unconscious action.

      “Hey there, Red.” Dylan surveyed her from head to toe. “Looking good today, honey. But then you always look good. Mighty good.”

      She pretended to ignore him.

      “Get tired of Jimmy Don?” he asked.

      “No, I did not get tired of—Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”

      “What would you like to do to me?”

      Maddie gasped, understanding the none-too-subtle innuendo.

      Dylan laughed. “How about going for a ride with me? It’s a beautiful sunny fall day.”

      “Aren’t you working?” She told herself to go back into the country club, to get as far away from Dylan as possible, but she didn’t heed her own warning.

      “I get a lunch break,” he replied.

      “Oh. Well, it doesn’t matter because I wouldn’t be caught dead in that old truck of yours.”

      “See that silver Porsche over there?” He pointed to the sleek sports car in the private parking area at the club. “How would you like to take a ride with me in that?”

      “But that’s not your car.”

      “It belongs to a friend. He won’t mind if I borrow it.”

      Maddie’s moment of indecision obviously prompted Dylan to assume she wouldn’t reject his request. By the time she managed to form her thoughts into words, he had raced over to the car, jumped in and started the engine.

      Oh, no. Now what? She was not going anywhere with him. Not even in a Porsche. Her mother would be appalled if she ever found out that her daughter had even talked to Dylan Bridges, let alone taken a ride with him.

      Dylan eased the car around to the front of the club, flung open the passenger door and grinned at Maddie. “Come on, Red. Live dangerously for once in your life. You know you’re dying to come with me.”

      “I can’t.”

      “Yes, you can.”

      “No, Dylan, really, I can’t. I wish you’d stop pestering me. You get me all confused and I don’t like it.”

      With that confession, Dylan hopped out of the Porsche, grabbed Maddie’s hands and dragged her toward the car. She skidded across the sidewalk, her efforts doing little to halt Dylan’s determination. She realized that she really did want to go with him, so her protest was only halfhearted. When they reached the car’s passenger side, Maddie jerked her hands back, but Dylan held tight.

      “Come on, honey. Don’t chicken out on me now.”

      “I—I…Oh, all right. But—”

      Dylan swept her off her feet. She cried out in surprise, barely able to believe that he’d lifted her up into his arms. He deposited her in the bucket seat, then bolted around the hood and got behind the wheel. As he sped down the circular drive, the wind whipped Maddie’s long hair into her face.

      I’ve lost my mind, she thought. A niggling sense of uncertainty fluttered inside her. What was she doing here, flying down the highway with Dylan in a borrowed car?

      About fifteen minutes later, Dylan turned off on a bumpy dirt road. After pulling under a tree several yards from the highway, he killed the motor, then threw his arm across the back of Maddie’s seat as he leaned toward her. Before she realized his intention, he kissed her. A quick brush of his lips over hers. She gasped.

      “What’s the matter, honey? You’ve been kissed before, haven’t you?”

      “Of course, I’ve been kissed,” she told him. “And much better than that.”

      Without warning, Dylan grabbed her, lifted her up and over the console and into his lap. She was jammed between the steering wheel and Dylan’s lean body. When she felt his erection pressing against her bottom, she panicked and tried to pull free. He manacled her wrists and held both in one hand while he lowered his head and kissed her again. But this time, he took her mouth hungrily, shocking her with the fury of his possession. She trembled. She felt hot. She ached between her thighs. Oh, mercy, this can’t be happening.

      Maddie knew that she had to stop him now, before he went any further, before she wouldn’t have the power to resist. But he kept ravaging her mouth, his tongue seeking entrance. She wriggled and squirmed, but he seemed to enjoy it and moaned into her mouth. She immediately stopped moving. Finally, he lifted his head so that they could both breathe again.

      “I didn’t tell you that you could kiss me!”

      He grinned. A cocky, self-assured smile that created a flurry of butterflies in her belly. “But you wanted me to kiss you, didn’t you? You’ve been wondering what it would be like, the same way I’ve been wondering.”

      “No, that’s not true, I haven’t…”

      She looked into his eyes, an earthy moss green, and recognized a kindred passion unlike anything she’d ever experienced with Jimmy Don or any other boy. Was it possible that he could see the same overwhelming emotion in her eyes?

      They stared at each other for an endless moment. Maddie tugged on her bound hands, and he loosened his hold. She lifted her arms up and around his neck, then moved against him, her breasts pressing against his hard chest. When she leaned forward, he watched her, waiting for her to make the next move. She kissed him. Softly. Sweetly. But suddenly that wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted a lot more.

      Taking charge, Dylan deepened the kiss.

      Just as he undid the top two buttons on her blouse and kissed the swell of her breasts spilling over the top of her bra, she heard the sirens. But she disregarded them. By the time she had Dylan’s shirt undone and her fingers were caressing his chest, she realized the sirens came from two police cars that were turning off the highway onto the dirt road.

      “Damn,” Dylan muttered under his breath.

      Within minutes two uniformed policemen had parked and were approaching the Porsche.

      “What’s going on?” she asked Dylan.

      “Both of you get out of the car, nice and slow,” one of the officers said.

      “Dylan?” She stared at him.

      “Do what they say, Maddie.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “The guy I borrowed this car from must have called the police.”

      “You stole this car?”

      “I borrowed it, dammit.”

      “You stole it!” Maddie flung open the door and got out. Glaring at Dylan, she shouted, “I hate you, Dylan Bridges. Do you hear me? I hate you and I never want to see