A/N's: I'm feeling pretty good today, so I though I'd put up another chapter for you guys.

Chapter 3

Dee felt relieved when the evening was finally over and the Calloways had dropped her back at the White Manor. Feeling weary, she kicked off her shoes and eagerly unzipped her silk dress. In seconds she'd completely stripped and stood under a pelting shower, eyes closed, face turned up to the pounding spray.

Yawning, Dee toweled herself dry, slipped on a pair of eggshell crepe pajamas, sat down on the edge of the turned-down bed and stretched. She'd left the drapes open. Only transparent sheers of filmy white covered the tall plate glass. The big, cool suite was suffused with soft light from the tall downtown skyscrapers and Dee, alone in the bed, let her gaze slide slowly around the room. The scent of roses wafted to her, one more reminder of that other fateful night she'd spent here. Then, too, there'd been roses, dozens of roses, all sent by Dwayne Johnson.

Roses and champagne and Dwayne. Tears slowly slipping down her cheeks, Dee again let time turn back. She was nineteen years old and she was in this very room.

It had been her last night in Denver. She was to depart the next morning for Los Angeles and the new position at one of the top radio stations there. Dwayne had taken her out to dinner on that last evening, a night of dry August heat and bright moonlight. She'd worn a cool cotton sundress, narrow straps tied in a bow at the back of her neck. Her almost waist-length hair had been pulled into a casual shiny twist and pinned atop her head.

Dwayne, boyishly handsome in a white knit shirt and faded jeans, had honored her wish to dine on sausage pizza at a little Italian place up in the foothills, but long before midnight, knowing she had to catch an early flight, he agreed they should call it a night. Holding hands and growing increasingly silent, they exited from the creaking elevator on the fifth floor of the White and went to room 56.

When she reached out to flip on the lights, Dwayne's hand stopped her. He slowly pulled her fingers to his chest and said simply, "Dee." Then gently, sculpted lips settled on hers, warm and undemanding. Dwayne again whispered, "Dee, oh, my Dee."

Dee sighed as his kiss became more demanding, filling her with warmth, just as it always did. Her arms went up around his neck. She loved kissing Dwayne. His kisses set her afire; they had from the first. More than once their hunger for each other had made kissing, no matter how wonderful, seem inadequate. Still, Dwayne, though his eyes had looked tortured and his body had trembled with his need, had many time thrust her away from him, stopping short of what they both wanted. Needed.

Not tonight.

Now he was kissing her with unbridled passion and she met his hunger with her own. When their heated lips separated for breath, Dwayne urged Dee toward the bed. She willing took a seat on its edge and watched as he pulled off his shirt.

He took a seat beside her, a long arm going around her shoulders. "Sweetheart," he said huskily, his hand moving up to the swell of her breasts, "it's our last night. Kiss me like it's the last night, honey."

"Dwayne," she murmured and put her palms to his smoothly shaven cheeks. Her soft, moist mouth came up to his. She nibbled at the corner of his mouth, just the way he'd taught her to do. He groaned and pulled her to him.

At last Dwayne's mouth left hers, trailing fiery kisses across her flushed cheek and finally coming to rest on her ear. "Dee, I want to feel you against me. Just for minute, sweetheart, just for a while," he said.

Before she could answer, his mouth took hers again, his tongue thrusting between her parted lips to mate with hers. Deft fingers untied the bow at her nape and gently, caring hands peeled down the white cotton barrier from between them as his lips left hers.

Unhampered by clothes, Dee's full, high breasts rose and fell with her rapid, nervous breaths, and her bottom lip trembled as she lowered her eyes. "Dwayne," she began.

"Sweetheart," he soothed. "You're so beautiful. Don't be embarrassed with me, Dee. Look at me, darling."

Dee wasn't quite certain how or when his practiced, persuasive hands managed to divest her of her lacy underwear. Now, a warm male hand was moving up her trembling thigh, a deep, drugging voice murmuring close to her face, "I have to touch you, Dee. I have to, honey. I won't hurt you, I'd never hurt you."

Moments later they were both naked upon the bed that Dwayne had turned down. With half-emptied glasses of champagne beside them on the beside table, soft music coming from the radio and the scent of roses sweetening the air, the completed the act of love-making upon sheets of ice-blue. Dee knew as Dwayne lowered his sleek, bare body onto hers that the brief pain of his penetration would pale beside the pain of leaving him.

And she was right.

******

At ten o'clock the next morning, Dee, dressed in a tailored suit of beige poplin with a wide multicolored belt, walked through the doors of radio station X104, high atop the Petroleum Club building in downtown Denver. A young woman with hair of auburn and big green eyes looked up, smiled and said, "You have to be Dee Thompson!" The woman jumped up from her chair. "I'm Sherry Jones and I've heard so much about you, Ms. Thompson. Why, it's like having a movie star in the station."

Shaking her head, Dee laughed good-naturedly. "Sherry, I'm flattered, but I'm hardly a star. Is Mr. Calloway busy?"

"Follow me, Ms. Thompson." Sherry was smiling happily.

"Morning, Dee." Mark rose to greet her. When they were alone, he said, "Have a seat and let's go over a few things."

"Mark," Dee said, taking the leather chair across from her old boss, "will you level with me?"

"Why, Dee, haven't I always?" He looked puzzled.

"I'm concerned about Dwayne Johnson." She looked directly into Mark's soft brown eyes.

His broad shoulders slumped. "Dee, what can I tell you? We both know that-"

"Dwayne doesn't want me here. Is that it?"

Mark sighed. "Dee, Dwayne is a pro. When you're on the air together, he'll be just like he was before."

"You didn't answer my question, Mark."

"I'm the general manager of X104. I have to decide what is best for this station."

Dee smiled sadly. "You just answered my question."

Mark smiled with her. "I guess I did. Honey, you and Dwayne will just have to work out any personality problems. I care about one thing-audience."

"Why, Marky, you're as sentimental as every," Dee kidded.