A/N's: Hmmm, those threats really do work...lol

Chapter 5

The next morning, Dee arrived at the studios of X104 half an hour early. Dressed in an attractive cowl-necked cotton dress of gold and blue stripes, a wide blue leather belt and matching shoes, she used her key to let herself into the dim reception area. It was eerily quiet.

She crossed the lobby and headed down the long corridor toward her office. Suddenly the hair stood up on the back of her neck. She could sense someone behind her. She whirled around abruptly and bumped into the hard chest of Dwayne Johnson.

Dee let out a little gasp of surprise. Dwayne's hands were on her upper hands, steadying her. Eyes on the level of his throat, Dee's senses were assailed with the scent of his clean, warm skin. Instinctively, she inhaled deeply, loving his familiar yet strange male essence.

As Dwayne set her away from him, Dee looked up at his face. In his eyes was an enigmatic expression. If fled immediately and a look of impatience replaced it.

"I-I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked.

A mocking grin lifted the corners of his lips. "What do you think?" he said flatly, then turned and walked away.

Dee bit her bottom lip. This was not going to work. An unhappy Dwayne was going to make this first show a disaster. She just knew it. They could no longer work together. She should never have returned.

******

At two minutes before six, Dee left her small office. At the opposite end of the hall, Dwayne did the same. They met at the door to the control room. Wordlessly, Dwayne put a palm to the door and pushed it inward, inclining his dark head.

Dee nodded and stepped past him into the room where bleary-eyes Dan Kitrell was signing off his show. Nodding to the pair, the tired disc jockey said into the microphone, "So that's it for the night people. Be listening again when yours truly, Dan of Darkness, comes back your way." The weary man turned up the volume, letting the last record lead into the 6 o'clock news.

"Hi, folks." He rose, yawned and stretched.

As soon as Dan was gone, Dwayne drew a second chair up beside the one he had just vacated and looked at Dee. "Think you can fill out the federal communications log if I handle everything else?"

Dee slowly circled the control panel, and took the seat directly in front of the console. Swiveling around, she looked up at him and said calmly, "Not only can I handle the FCC log, Dwayne, I can run the board as well. I will cue and spin records, position and play the tapes and run the proper commercials." She smiled sweetly and added, "You just have a seat beside me and charm your listeners."

"Fine," Dwayne said evenly.

Ignoring him, Dee reached out to spin the cassette carousel, familiarizing herself with color-coded dots designating the A, B, and C songs. Turning back to Dwayne, she said crisply, "Where's the playlist, Dwayne?"

"Why, Dee-" his lifted to hers "-this is X104. We don't play the hits here. We make 'em, remember?"

"Yes, I know, but what shall I-"

"It's thirty seconds till time, better pick something." Dwayne leaned forward and pulled the mike into position. Heart hammering, Dee snatched a blue-dotted cassette and shoved it into the recorder just as Dwayne flipped open the key and said in that smooth, sexy voice, "Morning, sleepyheads. It's your old buddy, Dwayne Johnson. The day we've all been waiting for has finally arrived. There's magic in the Mile High City today."

Dwayne's brooding bronze eyes went to Dee as he continued. "I'm sure a lot of you remember the beautiful and talented Dee Thompson, my morning-show partner in the good old days here. Well, she's back and I couldn't be happier. For those who have moved to Denver in the past five years, I'll see if I can't describe Dee for you. She's about five feet three...call it a hundred and two pounds, all in the right places." His eyes were slowly sliding over Dee as he spoke.

"She had the hair of a Greek Goddess, all long and shiny brown. Her eyes are molten gold and so enormous you could lose yourself in them. Her nose is turned up just a bit. Her lips are soft and sweet and- Oh, I can't go on. She's Dee Thompson, she's breathtaking, she's talented, and she's mine. Did I say mine? She's yours, friends, and she's delighted to be back in Denver. Say hello, Dee."

Face flushing, Dee swallowed nervously, leaned closer to the mike and, looking directly into his watchful eyes, said confidently, "Thank you, Dwayne. Hello, Colorado. You'll never know how overjoyed I am to be in my beloved Denver and back on the air with the talented man who taught me all I know."

Dee saw a brief flicker in his eyes and quickly amended, "About broadcasting, that is." Hand trembling, she clutched the mike and concluded, "I'll be seeing all of you old friends real soon, since Dwayne and I plan lots of personal appearances. Keep listening and give us a call now and then to let us know you're there. Now how about a little music?" Dee pushed a button and music filled the control room.

Half an hour later, the phone began ringing off the wall. Raves poured in. Listeners loved the easy banter and great rapport between Dwayne and Dee. Their timing was perfect, as though they'd never been apart. They could practically read one another's minds.

The fire between them still burned. At least in the control room of the radio station.

They took turns answering the busy phones, cuing records, logging the commercials and talking into the mikes. The four-hour show flew past and Dee was shocked when Dwayne said, "Lead 'em into the last song, Dee. It's two minutes till ten."

When the last song came up in volume, she turned to him-happy, relieved, longing for his approval.

"You're good, Dee, very good. Better than ever," he said, shaking his dark head.

Dee instinctively reached out and put a hand of his dark forearm. "I should be," she said softly, leaning toward him. "You taught me all I know."

Feeling the ripple of muscles beneath his shirtsleeve, Dee drew a sharp breath when Dwayne asked casually, "Have you anything planned for this coming Saturday morning?"

They didn't work on Saturdays.

"Why, no, I don't, Dwayne," she said in a whisper.

"Good," he responded. "There's a charity touch-football game at ten between X140 and channel ten television. Be a good idea if you'd agree to play."

Disappointed, Dee stammered, "I...why sure, I'll be glad to do it."

Dwayne walked away. "Come by my office and get a X104 T-shirt. You own a pair of white shorts, I'm sure."

"Yes, but why can't I wear jeans?"

Dwayne paused at the door. "This is show biz, babe. People want to look at you in a tight T-shirt and a pair of shorts that show off your legs."

"Well-" Dee followed him "-maybe I don't want to show off my legs and my...my..."

"Come off it, Dee," Dwayne said coldly. "You rode in a Los Angeles parade in a damned brief bikini that almost showed your..." He slammed out of the door and was gone.

Dee, face pink, gritted her teeth and stormed out to the privacy of her office. She fumed for several minutes before wondering aloud, "How did Dwayne know about a parade I was in four years ago?"