Mad About You

wish, Master.

    * * *

    Jasmine walked briskly toward her car, more rattled now than she had been this morning. No one had asked her out since she'd started seeing Trey McDonald, and she liked the idea that everyone seemed to think she was off-limits—spoken for by one of the most powerful men in the state. No one had presumed to compete with his charm, his looks, his influence, his money... except Ladden Sanderson, a quiet, rough-around-the-edges man who, for the most part, made his living with his big hands and strong back.
    What seemed even more incredible than his forwardness was her impulse to take him up on his offer. He had looked so appealing, standing there all scrubbed and brushed, his big body filling his clothes in the most sexy way. At the hopeful look in his dark eyes, she'd nearly buckled. The thrill she'd experienced at his invitation went beyond flattery. But she wasn't about to risk her current relationship over a strong physical attraction to a man who, although very nice, didn't share her lifelong goals, her circle of friends, or her ambition to rise as far as possible above the poverty she'd grown up in, in a shack on the outskirts of Glenhayden.
    Jasmine squashed the unpleasant memories, then halted abruptly and looked around. "My car," she muttered. "I know I parked it right here." She craned her neck, looking up and down the street, pacing back and forth in front of the empty spot where she was sure she had left it. Panic bloomed in her chest—could it have been stolen?
    "Are you looking for a white carriage?" a strange looking man wearing a turban yelled from across the street. He spoke with a rich accent and appeared to be selling watches from a card table.
    Jasmine nodded. "Did you see my car?"
    "A big machine with a hook on the back pulled it away," he said matter-of-factly.
    "Towed? Oh, no." Jasmine glanced at the expired parking meter—she was sure it had time on it when she’d parked. She reached into her purse for her cell phone, then bit back a moan when she saw the dark power light. It was six-thirty—most shops were already closed for the evening, but she should be able to find a phone in a bar or restaurant. Morosely, she realized the press would have a field day when they discovered the governor's girlfriend's car had been towed because she hadn't fed a fifty-cent parking meter.
    She shouted at the watch man, "Can you tell me where I can find the nearest phone?"
    The man screwed up his face in thought, then pointed in the direction she’d just come from. "That would be a place called Tabby's."

Chapter Four

    JASMINE STEPPED GINGERLY into Tabby's, warming immediately to the cozy atmosphere. Buffed to a high sheen, the wood floor dipped and rolled from the passage of many feet over the years. An enormous pecan-colored bar lined the wall to her right, fronted by red upholstered stools. Aproned waitresses wound their way between tables surrounded by low, comfortable looking chairs, most of which were occupied in the height of the dinner hour. The din of conversation and laughter almost drowned out the background piano music. It was a nice, family place, Jasmine decided, seeing as many children as adults enjoying the spaghetti and meatloaf.
    The hostess greeted her just as she recognized Ladden standing at the bar, holding a beer in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. With a jolt, she realized this must be his family's restaurant. She acknowledged a small thrill at seeing him again, even though seeing him in such a casual setting was a bit of a shock. How odd that she'd never really thought about Ladden's life outside of his shop. He was studying the paper with a creased brow, but when he glanced up and saw her, his dark eyes widened.
    She raised her hand in a wave as he straightened and moved toward her. "Hi," she offered when he was within earshot.
    "Hi," he said, his face wreathed in smiles. "I'm glad you changed your mind."
    She twisted the bag that contained the copper lamp. Her palms felt suddenly damp. "Well, I didn't exactly. My car was towed and my cell is dead. Someone told me I could find a phone here."
    One by one, his smiles dissolved. "Oh."
    "This looks like a great place," she said hurriedly.
    He shifted from foot to foot, then inclined his head. "Thanks—I'll tell my cousins the governor's interior designer said so."
    She knew he meant to pay her a compliment, but it didn't quite feel like one. And she wasn't sure why.
    "Glad to see you changed your