Her tires crunched in the gravel as she pulled up to the house and turned off the ignition. Abruptly, the exterior lights went out followed by the interior ones. She hesitated. She must have caught him just as he was going to bed. Still, he wasn't asleep yet.

Snatching the videotape up from the seat before she lost her nerve, she opened the car door and stepped out. An owl hooted in the distance, an eerie sound that made her even more uneasy. As she walked cautiously toward the front porch, she wished it weren't so dark.

Resting her hand on the railing, she gingerly climbed the four stone steps. In the thick darkness the chirp of the crickets sounded ominous instead of friendly, like creaking hinges in a haunted house. She couldn't find a doorbell, only a heavy iron knocker. She lifted it, then flinched as it hit with a dull thud.

Seconds ticked by, but no one answered. Growing increasingly nervous, she rapped again, then wished she hadn't because she knew she had made a terrible mistake. This was embarrassing. There was no way she could explain her presence. What had she been thinking of? She was going to slip away and-

She gasped as a hand clamped over her mouth. Before she could react, a powerful arm grabbed her around the waist from behind. All the blood drained from her head and her legs buckled as she found herself pinioned.

A menacing voice whispered in her ear. "I'm taking you into the woods."

She was paralyzed with fear. She tried to scream but she couldn't make a sound. It was just like the night when she was eighteen. Her feet left the ground, and he carried her down the steps as if she weighed nothing. Blackness and panic suffocated her. He dragged her toward the trees with his mouth pressed against her ear.

"Fight me," he whispered. "Fight hard, even though you know it won't do you any good."

The sound of that familiar accent penetrated her panic, and she realized it was Dan holding her captive! Her mind reeled. It was happening again! She had been attracted to him, flirted with him, and now he was going to rape her! Her paralysis unlocked. She couldn't let this happen to her a second time.

She began a desperate struggle for her freedom, kicking and trying to jab him with her elbows, but he was strong, so much stronger than she, with iron-hard muscles that had been shaped by years of physical conditioning. He hauled her into the woods as if she weighed no more than a child. She tried to scream, but the pressure of his hand on her mouth was merciless.

"That's good. You're putting up a good fight, sweetheart. You're making me work for it."

She bucked in his arms and tried to scream beneath his palm, but he held her fast. She could dimly make out a round wooden structure ahead, and as he dragged her closer, she saw that it was a gazebo.

"I'm going to give it to you good," he whispered. "Just the way you like it. Give you that hurt you want so bad." He hauled her up the steps through an arched opening in the ivy-covered latticed walls. He wasn't even breathing hard.

"You're going to be helpless. I can do anything to you I want and you won't be able to stop me."

He dragged her into the darkness, and terror clawed at her the same way it had in that hot, dark pool shed so long ago. Keeping one hand clamped over her mouth, he shoved the other under her skirt and reached for the waistband of her panties.

"First I'm gonna rip these off."

The awful sounds coming from deep in her throat were garbled from the pressure of his palm. She hadn't wanted this. Please, God, don't let this happen to her again. Once again, she heard that horrible whisper at her ear.

"Maybe I should start here instead. Is that what you want me to do?"

He released her mouth and grabbed the bodice of her dress in his fist. With one hard jerk, he ripped.

Two things happened simultaneously. A violent scream erupted from her lips. And the hand cupping her breast froze.

"Val?"

He groped her breast. His entire body stiffened. And then he jumped away from her as if she were radioactive.

She began to sob. The amber glow from a yellow bug light mounted on a post suddenly flooded the interior of the small gazebo, illuminating outdoor furniture, a sisal rug, and the fact that he was staring at her in horror.

"Phoebe! Jesus… Jesus, Phoebe, I'm sorry, I-I didn't know it was you. I-Val was supposed to…"

Her teeth were chattering and her whole body had begun to shake. Where he had ripped her dress, the bodice gaped, revealing one of her breasts. She clawed at the material, while she backed away, tears running down her cheeks.

"Phoebe…" He rushed toward her.

She leapt back, frantically clutching her torn dress. "Don't touch me!" she sobbed.

He froze and backed away, holding up his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you. I can explain. It's all a mistake. I didn't know it was you. I-I thought you were my ex-wife. She was meeting me here."

"Is that supposed to make it better?" Her teeth wouldn't stop chattering, and her chest spasmed as she tried to swallow her sobs.

He took another step, and once again she backed away. He immediately stopped moving. "You don't understand."

"You bastard! You perverted bastard!"

"Dan!"

Phoebe froze as she heard the sound of a woman's voice.

"Dan! Where are you?"

Relief washed through her as she realized they were no longer alone. Then she saw the expression of entreaty in his eyes and watched as he pressed one finger to his lips, commanding her silence.

"Here!" she shouted. "In here!"

He dipped his head. "Shit."

"Dan?" A slim, attractive woman wearing a simple floral cotton dress stepped into the gazebo. "I heard a-"

She broke off as she saw Phoebe. Her gaze flew to Dan. "What's going on?"

"What we have here," he said unhappily, "is a case of mistaken identity."

The woman took in Phoebe's torn dress and mussed hair. Her eyes widened in consternation. "Oh, God."

As Phoebe's terror began to ease, she realized something was happening here that she didn't understand.

"It was dark," he told the woman, "and I thought she was you."

The woman pressed her fingertips to one temple. "Is she discreet?"

"Discreet, hell! She's scared to death! Can't you see what I've done to her?"

The woman's voice grew so cool and businesslike that Phoebe immediately hated her. "Who is she?"

"Phoebe Somerville," he replied, apparently realizing that Phoebe was in no condition to answer for herself.

"The Stars' owner?"

"One and the same." He turned back to Phoebe and, speaking softly, said, "This is Valerie Calebow, Phoebe. My ex-wife. She's also a member of the United States Congress, but, despite that, you can trust her. Valerie is going to explain to you that I wasn't trying to hurt you, and she's going to tell you exactly what you walked into."

Valerie's forehead puckered in dismay. "Dan, I can hardly-"

"Do it!" he snapped, his expression murderous. "She's not in any state to listen to me right now."

She picked her words carefully, her expression stiff. "Miss Somerville, although Dan I are divorced, we have chosen to continue an intimate relationship. We are both rather adventurous lovers, and-"

"Speak for yourself, Val. I'd have been happy with a double bed and some Johnny Mathis tapes."

"Are you blaming me for what happened?"

"No," he sighed. "It was my fault. You both have light hair, and you're about the same height. It was dark."

"Dan and I had made arrangements to meet here tonight. I had an official function to attend so I was a bit late. Unfortunately, Miss Somerville, he mistook you for me."

Slowly, Phoebe began to comprehend what had happened, but she could only stare at the woman in bewilderment. "Are you telling me that you wanted him to treat you like that?"

Valerie refused to meet her eyes. "I'm afraid I have to go. I'm sorry you received such a fright. I only hope you understand how delicate this matter is. As an elected official, it would be extremely awkward for me if anyone were to find out."

"For chrissake, Val-"

She spun on him. "Shut up, Dan. This could put an end to my career. I want her assurance that she won't tell anyone."

"Who would I tell?" Phoebe said helplessly. "No one would believe me anyway."

"I'm sorry." Valerie gave her an awkward nod and quickly left the gazebo.

Phoebe didn't want to be alone with him. She was immediately conscious of his oppressive physical size, the muscles straining the too-tight sleeves of his knit shirt. Holding the front of her dress together, she began to move toward the vine-draped opening in the gazebo's latticework.

"Please sit down," he said quietly. "I promise I won't come near you, but we have to talk."

"It's all a game to the two of you, isn't it?" she whispered. "That's how you get your kicks."

"Yes."

"It wasn't a game to me."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"How could you do something like that?"

"It's what she likes."

"But why?"

"She's a strong woman. Powerful. Sometimes she gets tired of always being in control."

"She's sick, and so are you!"

"Don't judge, Phoebe. She's not sick, and until tonight, what went on between the two of us had nothing to do with anyone else."

She started to shake again. "You were going to-What if you hadn't stopped?"

"I'd have stopped. The minute I felt your-" He cleared his throat. "Valerie's a little more flat-chested than you."

Her knees weren't going to hold her any longer, and she collapsed into the nearest chair. He came toward her cautiously, as if he were afraid she would start to scream again.

"What were you doing here?"

She took a shaky breath. "Paul showed up at the party not long after you left. I-I brought you the videotape you wanted." She made a helpless gesture as she realized she'd dropped it.