A/N's: The waiting is over! Dwayne has finally come into the story...lol ;)

Chapter Four

He was tall and muscular and graceful. His hair was a shiny black. His face looked a little leaner, harder, and more handsome than ever. At thirty-one years old, Dwayne Johnson was the peak of his rugged masculine appeal. Dee stared at him in awe. And in fear. His icy, handsome face told her he was sorry she'd returned, and Dee had the uneasy feeling he planned to make her sorry, too.

Coolly assessing her, Dwayne finally nodded and said evenly, "Ms. Thompson.

"Mr. Johnson," Dee returned flatly.

Mark, shaking his head, said, "I'll leave you two be. I've got work to do." Neither Dee nor Dwayne responded.

A deafening silence filled the corner office with Mark's departure. Like wary jungle cats, the two continued to size each other up, standing across from one another. Hands sliding deep into his pockets, Dwayne let his gaze leisurely glide over the small chestnut haired beauty looking at him.

She was dressed more severely than when he'd last seen her. The suit only hinted at the curves he knew were underneath. A muscle flexed in his jaw as his gaze slid over high breasts, her narrow waist, her rounded hips. She was a sophisticated, twenty-four-year-old woman. And, God, help him, she was more desirable than ever.

Slowly turning his back to Dee, he appeared to be peering out the window. In fact, his dark eyes were closed. "Dee, have a chair," he said at last, and turned around.

The intensity had left the chocolate brown eyes, but the coldness had not. "There's a few things we'll need to discuss."

He sat down, lounging back in his swivel chair. Dee cleared her throat needlessly and said, "It's great to be back in Denver, Dwayney B...Dwayne."

"Is it?" He lifted a dark eyebrow and his mouth quirked into a hint of a derisive smile. "I'd think old Denver would be a bit tame for a lady who spent the last five years in L.A."

"I'm a rather tame lady, or don't you remember?" Her level gaze met his.

Wide shoulders lifted slightly. "Ah, that's true, but then that was five years ago. I'm sure you've learned a lot, both professionally and personally." His eyes challenged her to deny it.

"Dwayne, I would certainly hope I've progressed professionally. If not, then I'm in the wrong line of work and I don't believe that. It was you who first told me I had potential, and that I should learn and polish and strive to get better each day, each year. That's exactly what I've done for the past five years."

"All finished?" he asked. Her reply was a narrowing of her eyes. Dwayne shook his head. "Good, now maybe we can get to the business at hand." Rising gracefully, he slowly circled his desk. Dee tensed as he neared her. He stepped directly in front of her chair and half sat, half leaned on his desk. "Where shall we begin?" he mused.

"Why don't you give me your little speech about you being the program director of this station and as such you do all the-"

"Damn you, Dee." He leaned menacingly close. "Mark Calloway may have hired you back, but I'm your boss, do you understand me?" Those brown eyes were flashing fire. "I will indeed give you my speech and I'd advise you to listen. I'm not quite as easygoing as I once was and I can't be pushed around, not even by coffee-haired beauties with big gold eyes and bigger egos."

"Dwayne," Dee interrupted, "will you just wait a-"

"No, Dee, I won't. We both know why you're here. Your career took a downturn, you lost your Los Angeles radio deal and you've come back down to the minor leagues for a while." Slowly, Dwayne leaned forward. He put a hand on either arm of Dee's chair, trapping her. "How long do you plan to stay this time, Miss Thompson? Three months? Six? Till you get a decent off from some radio station in Chicago? Atlanta? Miami?"

Dee looked directly into his eyes. Anger rising rapidly, she lifted her small chin and smiled up at him. "Why, Dwayne-" she leaned closer "-I've no intention of doing anything so foolish." She laughed and shook her head dismissively. "New York, Dwayne. The Big Apple. That would be the proper showcase for my talents, don't you think? That's where I belong."

Dwayne's eyes flickered for one brief instant. His hands left her chair and he stretched to his full, imposing height.

"Baby," he drawled, "that probably is where you belong. One thing is certain, you sure as hell don't belong here."

"All the same, Dwayne, I am her. I'm you partner once again on the morning show and I'll be in the control room at six o'clock tomorrow. Now, if you'd like to run through a practice set, or discuss our first show, I'll sit down and we'll go about this like two intelligent professionals. If not, I'll be going."

Dwayne nodded. "Let's play it by ear in the morning. Might make the show fresher."

"Good enough," Dee agreed, turned and walked to the door. Pausing, she turned to look back at him. "Dwayne?"

"Yes?"

"I see you still have your chinning bar." She smiled. "Do you still chin yourself when something's bothering you?"

Dwayne's face colored and he ignored her question. His voice soft, he said, "See you in the morning, Dee."

When Dee left Dwayne's office and stepped into the corridor, a smiling attractive woman materialized from a office next door. She smiled warmly at Dee.

"Miss Thompson, I'm Janelle Davis, Dwayne secretary. If you'll just come with me, I'll show you to your office."

"Thank you, Janelle." Dee followed the tall, slim woman to a small office all the way down the hall from Dwayne's.

She'd no sooner sat down than her phone rang.

"Dee, it's Mark," came the booming voice. "Hon, I just wanted to let you know that Benny O'Neil, our best salesman, just came in with the keys to the car he got for you over at the Porsche dealership." Dee smiled. The car was part of the deal she'd made in her new contract with X104. "Dee, honey," Mark continued, "a Porsche is all right, isn't it?"

"Mark, I think I'll be able to make do." She laughed. "I'm thrilled to death, who wouldn't be?"

"Good, Dee. Anyway, it's downstairs in the parking lot. I've got the keys when you're ready to leave."

"As a matter of fact," Dee said, "I need to start hunting for an apartment, so if it's all right with you, I think I'll spend the rest of the day looking at a few places."

"Do that, Dee."

"Mark, does Dwayne still live over at the French Quarter Tower by Washington Park?"

"Sure does. Why don't you ask him if they anything available?"

"Hmm," she said, "I will. See you in five minutes for those keys." Dee hung up the phone and left her office, thinking she'd hunt for a place to live as far from the French Quarter Tower as possible.