Megan followed Graeme Hamilton, Hollywood's hottest bachelor, through the shadowed service corridors of the hotel, keeping out of sight.

Was he meeting a woman? Rumor said he was having an affair.Her assignment for American Man magazine was to capture the liaison on film.

The celebrity fan convention in Las Vegas was the perfect setting for her to pursue her task, disguised as an eager fan, camera in hand.

He stopped at an elevator and Megan had a moment of panic when it seemed he would escape her. As he stepped inside, she ran to catch him.

She made it into the elevator just before the doors closed. Turning, her eyes widened in shock. The guy was gorgeous, but he wasn't Graeme.

With a jolt, the elevator stalled. Megan gasped as she was thrown forward and into the big, strong arms of her new sexy companion.

Megan recovered her bag, camera inside, a hair before it hit the ground.

Strong hands settled on her waist, muscular thighs molded to hers. "I like the way you say hello," her hot new elevator fantasy said in a sexy deep voice that so fit the man. "Names Cash. What's yours?"

"Megan," she said, forcing herself to pull away from him. "Sorry about that."

"I'm not," Cash said. The elevator jerked back into action. "Too bad," he said, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Being stranded might have been fun."

Oh yeah, Megan thought. Fun she wasn't about to let get away.

Cash stared down into the sweetest pair of big hazel eyes and smiled. It wasn't every day he had a gorgeous woman throw herself in his arms.

"So tell me about yourself, Megan," he said as he reluctantly released his hold on the slender curves of her sweet body. "Are you a fan?"

"A what?" she said with a flustered look.

Cash laughed at himself. Soon his ego would be as big as the stars he stunt doubled for.

Suddenly, an odd look on her face, she nodded and stepped closer, tracing one finger down his chest.

"Actually, yes. I'm very much a fan."

Guess his ego wasn't the only big thing in the elevator. Always up for a good time, he curved his hands over her hips and pulled her close.

Maybe this was her lucky day after all, Megan thought. He had to be connected to Graeme, and that was doubly lucky for her.

"Want to take this back to my room, where it's more private?" she asked on a purr, using every bit of charm at her disposal.

"Sure," Cash agreed, his lips so close that they brushed hers lightly as he spoke.

The slight touch melted her at the knees. "Great." She smiled, glancing at the security camera in the corner. "You may be comfortable on camera, but I'm better behind one."

The elevator stopped, but he didn't move toward to door with her. The air between them was suddenly chilled.

"You coming?" she asked.

Thirty seconds earlier, he would have said yes he was coming, but not before she did. Instead, he grated, "You're with the press?"

"Am I - Oh, the camera. No. As I said, I'm here as a fan." She held the elevator door open, eyes daring him. "You still interested?"

Cash wanted to believe her, but he was sick of people using him to get to Graeme. "That depends...which one of us do you really want?"

"You're the one I followed onto the elevator."

Before he could call her on the non-answer, she leaned in and laid a sizzling kiss on him.

When they finally came up for air, his suspicions had dropped several priority notches. "Let's go. I'm your man." For tonight, anyway.

Scant seconds later they were inside her room. She turned, dropped her bag onto the floor and pushed him up against the wall.

The warm, lush weight of her body against his was a complete turn-on. She pushed her hands under his shirt and stroked his bare skin.

Cash groaned, buried his hands in her silky hair and slanted his mouth hard across hers. She tasted like sweet, warm honey.

Her fingers explored his flesh and she purred softly in approval. "You're so hard. Everywhere. What exactly is it that you do?"

He wanted to tell her he'd do any damned thing she desired. Instead, he said, "I act as a stunt double for Graeme. In more ways than one."

"The man who knows how to do everything better," she purred, running her hand over warm taut skin, barely concealing a moan.

Megan pushed to her toes, her mouth finding his,hungry for another taste of him, his spicy male scent dragging her further under his spell.

Cash pulled back, hands framing her face.His body was hot, hard but he needed to know he wasn't Graeme's seconds with this woman. "If you're here for Graeme--" Cash started.

Megan reached for his belt. She had never been this hot this fast for any man in her life.

"Graeme who?" she challenged. "I'm here for you Cash. A real man. The man I'd like to undress right about now. Unless you object?"

Megan reveled in the delighted lust on Cash's face. This definitely hadn't been her intention when she'd chased him into the elevator. But she was a woman who appreciated a nice surprise, especially when it came in the form of a gorgeous man wanting to get naked with her.

Seeing no objection on his gorgeous face, she unhooked his belt, then with a grin, traced a finger over the hard length behind his zipper.

His growl sent a thrill of desire through her.

Their hands raced over each other, clothes flying, mouths sliding together in a wild dance.

"Now, Cash," she said, emphasizing his name with a wicked smile, "Why don't you show me what kind of stunts you can do?"

Cash loved that Megan knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go for it, but he was a guy who liked being in control. He set the pace.

He flipped her against the wall, her wrists pinned up over her head as he covered a full breast with the other hand, teasing a hard nipple. He took her mouth deeply, how he intended to take her. Slow, hard, deep.

Hopefully, more than once. He knew already that he'd want more.

She was wild, biting his lip and pressing against him. When she pushed up, wrapping her legs around him, it pushed his control to the edge.

Forget slow and screw control, he thought. He found her slick, soft core with one easy thrust, his mind blanking at the perfection of it.

Shit! He froze. No condom. And he didn't know this chick.

"What's wrong, Cash?" she asked.

Shit, shit, shit! He let his wanton woman slide down the wall until her feet hit the floor.

Raking his fingers over his scalp, he cursed under his breath. "No protection," he muttered. "What kind of a dumbass would I be if I got you pregnant? No offense, but I don't know anything about you."

"I'm on the pill and I donate blood every eight weeks. They test for the works. If I had anything nasty they'd cross me off the donor list."

"I love taking risks," he growled softly, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her to the bed, "but not with this. Trust me, okay?"

Laying her on the bed, he skated his lips over her breasts, even as he retrieved a foil packet from his pocket and covered himself.

Megan gasped as he came over her, filling her completely again and again. She moaned and drew him deeper, seeking his mouth, urging him on.

He caught her small frantic cries and as her body tightened around him, he exploded in a white-hot rush of pleasure.

He collapsed, spent. "Mmm, perfect," she murmured.

Cash agreed. He rolled away. He liked taking risks, but with Megan he suspected he might be in real danger.

On the other hand, Cash was so good at riding danger, because he knew how to evaluate risks.He dressed as she did and then pulled her close.

"You came for the picture," Cash said. "Let's go get it. Then you can watch me work and I'll buy you dinner when we wrap."

Megan hesitated. The picture Cash offered her could make her career and destroy her chance to get to know Cash, a man she really liked, all in one shot.

Suddenly feeling more naked than she had when Cash had slid over her body, Megan sat on the chair and pulled her camera case to her chest. Her career was everything to her. The only thing that she'd ever had much hope for. Unlike her relationship, which generally sucked. Did she risk her shot with the hottest guy she'd ever come with?

Megan eyed Cash, her body heating again as her eyes skimmed that sexy bod. Dammit, she wanted it all.

And, she calculated as she slid from the chair and gave Cash a smile, maybe... just maybe, she could have it all.

"Sure," she agreed as she tiptoed her fingers up Cash's chest. "Let's go downstairs and meet Graeme. I'd love to talk to him."

Cash followed her out of the hotel room, telling himself he wasn't the tiniest bit jealous about her eagerness to meet Graeme. As they rode the elevator down to the lobby, Megan wound her arms around his neck and kissed him, and any lingering doubts he had vanished. She deepened the kiss, and Cash was scarcely aware when they slid to a stop. The only thing he focused on was the woman in his arms.

The elevator doors swished open to a lobby full of reporters. "Look, it's Graeme!" someone shouted, and cameras began snapping.

With a curse, Cash swiftly closed the doors. "Damn. By tomorrow, that picture will be on the cover of every tabloid rag in the country."

Megan froze. She'd failed. Instead of taking the picture, she'd be in it. She'd let herself be distracted and it had backfired, bigtime.

Cash looked at her, pushing hair back from her face. "Hey, are you okay? I'm sorry that happened. It comes with the job, unfortunately."

He was being so sweet. How could she admit her dismay that when her boss saw that picture, her career was over? He might be used to this, his face in the news, but her chances at any kind of future in the biz had just gone up in smoke.

Misinterpreting, Cash pulled her close, lust tempered by comfort. She didn't deserve his gentleness, but she couldn't resist it, either.

"Maybe it won't be published," she said hopefully. "Maybe they'll realize it wasn't Graeme. I mean, up close you don't really look alike."

"Maybe," Cash said, but he sounded skeptical. "They've mixed us up before, though. It's usually not a big deal."

Not for him, Megan thought. "Well," she finally said, "let's hope they figure out the mistake and pull the photos before they go to print."

Cash sounded puzzled. "Why the panic? Most women would kill for the chance to be seen kissing Graeme. Even if it was just an illusion."

Megan pulled away. If he only knew...she was the illusion, not him. The kicker was, she'd never felt as real-as alive-as she had with Cash.

Feeling sick to the stomach, Megan knew in her heart she couldn't let this go any further. She had to tell Cash the truth, why she was here.

Cash led Megan toward a secluded bar where she assumed Graeme waited. Desperation rose inside her and she dug her heels into the ground.

Cash frowned and turned to see the panicked look on Megan's face. He laughed. "Don't tell me your nervous about meeting Graeme?"

Her heart thundered into action, joining her stomach in protest. Megan burst into explanation before she could chicken out.

"I'm a reporter. Two years of freelance work trying to get a good job and then my mom lost her job and cash. I'm sorry. I came here for a picture of Graeme.

Cash had fallen from buildings, been thrown from burning cars and even kicked in the head by a horse. So why did Megan's words hurt so much?

"You used me?" he asked tonelessly as he stepped away. He knew she had but he needed to actually hear her confirm the betrayal to his face.

Did a fast fall off an emotional cliff equal betrayal? Or was he just a romantic sap for thinking what they'd had was special? Obviously!

"No," Megan said, her tone both desperate and worried. "It wasn't like that. I just, well, things got carried away. But I didn't use you."

Despite the look on her face, Cash couldn't forgive her.

He turned to leave. "Graeme just walked in." he said. "Get your picture. I'm done."

Cash hit the door before he stopped, his words to Megan coming back to him about taking risks. So why was he walking away so easily?

He hardly knew Megan, or why she did what she did. Didn't he owe her a second chance if he wanted this to be more than a one night stand?

Looking back, he saw her wipe her hand across her cheek and pack up her camera, heading for the door, even though Graeme was right there. The man she'd supposedly come here for, Graeme, was talking intently to some sexy woman in a slave outfit, and Megan was walking away?

Why?

Every jump a stunt man made was a leap of faith. He never knew if he would land safely. He headed back toward Megan, hoping for the best.

He caught her before she left. "What, no picture?" he asked. She turned, her face reflecting surprise and...were those tears in her eyes?

"I don't want the picture," she said. "I'm quitting the magazine, because if it means lying and losing you, then it's just not worth it."

Cash stroked her cheek. "I get why you lied, Megan, I do. But I have to know...was any of it real? Because it sure as hell was real to me."

Her breath hitched. "Me too. More real than you'll ever know. Can we start again?" She paused. "I'm Megan, an unemployed photographer." Cash laughed softly and drew her closer.

"I'm Cash," he murmured, lowering his head, "and I'd like to know you better." And he kissed her.